Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2) Read online

  It’s easy for me to relate to Jared missing his father.

  Losing Mom when I was only ten rocked my entire world, and everything I ever knew was changed in an instant. While I was old enough at the time to understand what death was, I wasn’t mature enough to realize how losing someone so important in your life would alter every part of your future.

  My father became a different person after Mom died. He threw himself into his work to try and deflect the loneliness that he felt from losing his best friend. He once told me that staying idle for too long gives him far too much time to dwell on what he’s lost. I think that’s why he prefers to stay so busy, occupying his brain with a million tasks so he doesn’t have to deal with the pain. Dad became a shell of the man I remember from before Mom died.

  Dad took us to see a counselor for a short period when things became too much for him to deal with on his own. He thought it would be a good way for us to heal as a family. The one piece of advice that we got from those sessions that really seemed to resonate with Dad was that we have to find ways to move on—that the only way to truly heal is to keep on living even though our grief sometimes seems like it’s more than we can bear and that our loved ones wouldn’t want us to go into a dark place emotionally because they’ve passed on.

  “If you want to stay, Jared, I’ll drive London back to campus with me.” Wes’s voice drags me out of my thoughts.

  Jared pushes back from the table, causing the wood chair to squeak against the linoleum flooring before he stands. “No. I’ll take her, but call me if you hear anything.”

  Wes nods. “Will do, brother.”

  Jared reaches down and extends his hand to me. “Ready?”

  I take his hand and stand beside him.

  Wes’s eyes flick down to Jared’s and my joined hands, and his lips twist as he fixes his gaze on my left hand. His eyebrows pull inward, and the expression on his face makes it seem like he’s upset before his eyes jerk up to meet mine. He gives me a small smile. “Nice ring.”

  I raise my brow. I had completely forgotten about my ring, but when I look to Jared, he’s staring at his brother through narrowed eyes.

  Feeling a little uneasy, I find myself unsure of how to respond. “Um, thanks.”

  Jared doesn’t say a word and doesn’t elaborate any more on the topic.

  Wes’s shoulders sag a bit when it becomes clear that he’s not getting any further explanation. “See you around, London.”

  “Bye,” I reply as Jared pulls me through the kitchen toward the front door, not giving me time to say much else.

  “Mom, we’re leaving!” Jared calls up the stairs.

  Julie walks to the top of the landing of the split-level stairs and frowns. “I’m sorry your dad didn’t get to hear about the game. I’ll tell him all about it for you when he calls.”

  “Let me know what he says after he finds out we ran all over Ole Miss last night. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

  She smiles. “I will. You two have a safe ride back to school, and I’ll call you tomorrow while I’m at work at the shop, Jared, and let you know what Dad said.”

  NOW

  LONDON

  Sitting down for dinner in this house hasn’t felt the same in the last few years. It’s not that I don’t like Dad’s new wife, or that I’m not appreciative of how happy she makes him, but it doesn’t feel like home to me anymore. Sylvia is nice and has always treated me very well, but it’s a definite fact that she’s the most important woman in Dad’s life now.

  From the moment she moved in, she started changing things around in the house to suit her tastes. For instance, Mom always kept the silverware in the drawer next to the sink because she liked to hand wash the dishes since she didn’t trust that the dishwasher got them clean enough, whereas Sylvia feels the silverware should go on the other side of the dishwasher because that’s why she has the appliance—to make life easy. It’s almost as if Dad went out and found the polar opposite of Mom.

  I so want to tell Sylvia that life isn’t easy—that it’s hard—and she doesn’t have to pretend it is around me. I’ve been through so much, so I can personally attest to the fact that, even when things seem easy, at any moment they can blow up in your face and prove once again just how shitty life can be and how we’re meant to struggle on this earth. It’s better to not try and pretend things are any other way.

  “London, honey, will you pass the peas?” Sylvia asks from across the table with a smile on her face.

  I do as she asks and still find myself deep in thought about Mom. I wish she was here. It would be nice to be able to talk to her about things going on in my life.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Dad’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I continue to push the pile of peas around on my plate with my fork, just as I did when I was a kid.

  I glance up and make eye contact with him. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  Dad nods, while his hazel eyes linger on me. “About Wes?”

  “No. Not about him.” My voice comes out in a hushed tone.

  It’s hard for me to talk about Wes. Every time I think about him, it reminds me of how awful I’ve been to him lately. I’ve done my best to ignore him, but he keeps sending candy from his mother’s shop. It’s like he wants to keep himself at the forefront of my mind. Wes wants things to work out between us so badly, but deep down I know I won’t ever get past the fact that he’s the brother of the man I once loved with every piece of my heart.

  I should never have gotten involved with Wes, but it was so easy to allow myself to believe the charade that I could get over Jared by being with Wes. Being with Wes was comfortable—easy—because I had known him just as long as I had known Jared.

  “I spoke to Julie the other day. I know you and Wes were only married a few months, but he’s taking the split hard,” Dad tells me.

  I sit there silently. I’m not sure what he expects me to say. I understand that I’m the cause of Wes’s pain, but I also know there’s no simple way to fix what I’ve put him through. It’s not like he was blind to the situation when he got involved with me. He knew I was broken. He knew I was already having a hard time getting over Jared and moving on. He knew there was a great possibility that us being together would never work, yet he was willing to try anyway.

  That was a mistake.

  We both knew how hard it would be to be together, but at the time the chance of finding happiness—and, God, did I want that—outweighed the probable dark future that lay ahead of us once we started down that path.

  “When have you spoken to him last?” I close my eyes and take a deep breath and will myself not to cry as Dad keeps questioning me about Wes.

  I feel bad enough already. Dad trying to pry and point out the obvious isn’t helping. Wes wants more than I’m able to give him.

  “London?” I open my eyes at the sound of Dad’s voice.

  “I haven’t spoken to him in over a month. I think it’s best if we keep our distance for a while.”

  Dad’s gaze flicks over to Sylvia, and her typical bright smile turns into a frown. It only takes a moment, but I can tell the expression they share between them means they’re worried about something.

  Then, as if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door. I glance over at Dad, who doesn’t look a bit concerned and pops another bite of steak into his mouth. When I look to Sylvia, she simply shrugs, causing me to sigh as I pull the napkin off my lap and toss it down on the table.

  “I’ll get it,” I say as I push back from the table.

  As I walk toward the front door, a feeling in the pit of my stomach eats away at me. I don’t like surprises, and I have the feeling that’s exactly what I’m about to step into.

  When I open the door, my heart leaps into my throat, and every word in my vocabulary leaves me as my eyes land on Wes, standing on the porch with a dozen yellow roses in one hand and a box of his mother’s chocolate-covered strawberries in the other. Wes is dressed in a pair of gray slacks, a white button-down
dress shirt, and a tie, so I can tell he’s rushed over from his office to make it here.

  A sheepish smile ghosts across his face. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Your dad invited me for dinner.”

  I should’ve expected something like this from Dad. Whenever there is an issue going on in my life, he always tries to fix it. I guess my broken marriage is his newest challenge.

  I lick my lips and step back, allowing him room to come inside, hating that my father is trying to play Mr. Fix-It with my love life, but I can’t fault him for wanting to help. “It’s fine. Come on in.”

  His tall frame eases into the doorway, and he hands me the roses. “I know these candies are your favorite. Mom whipped them up for me before I came over.”

  I take the flowers and the small box with a small smile of gratitude. “They’re lovely. Your mom makes the best desserts in town.”

  Wes smiles. “She didn’t name it Best Candies for nothing.”

  I allow a little laugh to slip through, and he winks.

  It’s nice that he’s trying to lighten up the tenseness of this situation, but it’s difficult to deny the tension that’s still between us. The best thing I can do is be gracious and make it through this dinner without things getting weird.

  “Come on in, Wes!” Dad calls from the other room, not really giving me the option to disinvite him. “We’ve got a place set up for you.”

  Wes and I walk around the corner to find Sylvia setting another place across from Dad at the small wooden table.

  She glances up at me and bites her bottom lip with an expression that I can only describe as her saying sorry. I wave her off from behind Wes so that he can’t see me and then take my seat again. This setup has Dad written all over it.

  “This looks amazing, Mrs. Uphill,” Wes compliments Sylvia.

  She smiles and passes him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Thank you, and remember, it’s just Sylvia, please. I insist.”

  He nods and takes the bowl before piling a healthy portion onto his plate, making himself quite comfortable.

  We all begin eating silently. I mean, I’m not sure what I’m even supposed to say in this situation. The whole idea of splitting up our marriage was to get some space between us. Wes should have known I wouldn’t be cool with him just popping over like this. You would think he would know me better, and would know that he should have at least warned me first. A simple phone call would’ve sufficed.

  Dad clears his throat. “How’s work going, Wes? Last I heard you were getting some big promotion.”

  Wes wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, yes, sir. The firm assigned me to be the head engineer on a project for the downtown Knoxville area.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Sylvia says, her voice full of admiration. “To be so young and to already have so much responsibility—they must know how intelligent you are.”

  “Thank you,” Wes replies, and there’s a hint of red in his cheeks.

  He always gets a little embarrassed when he’s thrust into the limelight, which is the exact opposite of his brother, who reveled in it.

  Gah! I mentally scold myself for yet again comparing Wes to Jared. It’s a bad habit I’ve yet to figure out how to break.

  Dad grins. “That’s great news, Wes. Means you’ve got a real bright future in front of you, which is good news, considering when you and London start a family you’ll be financially stable.”

  “Dad!” I instantly retort, trying my best to head him off before he continues down the path of fixing Wes and me into his ideal of a perfect little family.

  “What?” Dad asks defensively. “Aren’t I allowed to discuss all the good things that your future might hold?”

  “No,” I say instantly.

  He lifts one eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “Wes and I aren’t together anymore. That’s why. You know that. I don’t know why you’re going on like we are.”

  The second the words leave my mouth, my eyes dash over to Wes. Pain flickers across his face, and once again I’m reminded of how shitty a human being I am for continuing to hurt him. I can’t take this—sitting in this room one second longer—dragging out a relationship that I know is over. I can’t sit here and worry that I’m going to say the wrong thing at any moment and hurt Wes all over again. He doesn’t deserve that.

  I shove away from the table and throw my napkin down. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  I turn toward the front door and race through it. I know I’m being a coward—that I should be braver and face up to Wes about how I’ve treated him—but I just can’t. I know that’s wrong of me, but I don’t know what else to do.

  The night air hits me as soon as I’m outside, and a chill rushes up my spineless back.

  “London, wait up!” Wes calls from behind me, but I keep trudging forward until I make it to my car, which is parked along the curb out in front of my father’s house.

  I hit the key fob and the lights flash, letting me know I’ve unlocked it.

  “London, please,” Wes begs, but I don’t stop.

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Wes. I can’t have this conversation with you right now.”

  He steps beside me and places his hand on the car door, not allowing me to open it. “Won’t you just talk to me? What happened back there?”

  Tears instantly streak down my face, and there’s no way I can hold them back. “I’m no good for you, Wes. You deserve better than me. Don’t you see that? Why do you keep trying to hold on to this relationship? It’s never going to work.”

  He shakes his head. “No. London, I deserve you. I always have. If Jared hadn’t been in the way—”

  “Stop!” I command. “Don’t bring him up.”

  “I have to,” he says. “He’s the reason we’re having problems. Hell, he’s not even around anymore and I still can’t escape living in my little brother’s shadow.”

  “You’re not living in his shadow.”

  He shakes his head. “But I am. I always wanted you. I’ve always been the right brother for you, but you, just like everyone else, got wrapped up in Jared’s charms and couldn’t see how much I’ve always loved you. You never paid any attention to me until he was gone. I was background noise until he decided to walk out on all of you.”

  “We’ve always been friends, Wes. Always. But you knew that I loved your brother. You know how much he meant to me.”

  Wes throws his hands into the air. “God, I can’t believe you still love him after all this time. When are you going to face it, London? He’s gone. He left you—me—hell, even his own mother. He never gave two shits about any of us. I figured that out the minute he left us behind to start a new life. We were all hurting, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself.” Wes’s eyes stare into mine. “It’s time you realize you’re waiting on a ghost—a memory of the person you thought he was. He’s moved on, and I wish you could too, and when you do, I want it to be with me. Please, London, I love you. I always have. Think about what we could have if you let him go.”

  My mouth grows dry as I absorb every word he says. He’s right—I know he is—and everything he said is the truth, but how can I make him understand that Jared was my soul mate, and there’s no easy way to fill the hole made when your other half is ripped away without any explanation?

  “Wes . . .” I chew on the inside of my lower lip as I search for the right words to say. “I just need more time, and I know that’s unfair to ask of you, but that’s what I need. I can’t be with you and not think of him.”

  He sighs deeply while a frown pulls at the corners of his mouth. “If time and space are what you need, then I’ll give that to you. I know you’ve been through a lot. I’ve been with you through it all, so I understand. When you’re ready to talk about things and where we stand, call me, and we’ll figure all this out.”

  His words are saying that he’s all right with the situation, but I know this is killing him. It’s written all over his face.

  “Thank you,” is all I
can manage to say.

  Wes has always been the thoughtful and understanding Kraft boy. He was the one who worked in his mother’s shop for hours on end because she needed the extra help. He was the one who volunteered at the animal shelter to nurture the sick and abandoned pets that people no longer wanted. He’s also the brother who held what was left of his family together when tragedy struck. Like my dad, Wes is a fixer, and I guess when he saw how broken I was five years ago, he made it his mission to put me back together.

  We stand there in silence. No words need to be said for us each to know the other is hurting. I wish I could end his pain, but there’s no easy way to stop loving somebody.

  “I’ve got to go,” I tell him as I place my hand on the handle of the car door.

  He nods and takes a step back, allowing me space to open the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay.” It’s the last thing I tell him before I jump in my car and speed away, wondering if there’s even a way to fix something as broken as my smashed-up heart.

  THEN

  JARED

  My fingers glide over the strings as I play the chorus of “Simple Man” on my Gibson. I love this old guitar. It was a high school graduation present from Dad, and I remember the note he wrote and wove through the strings when he gave it to me: Now you have your own. Don’t bother asking if you can take mine to college in the fall.

  I still laugh every time I think about that. There’s no way of counting how many hours I logged on his guitar, but I know it’s enough that I can play just about any song after hearing it one time. For my sixteenth birthday, Dad bought me some lessons, and he was proud when the instructor told him that I had a natural ear for music. Of course, though, Dad made it well known that playing the guitar was merely a hobby for me and not a career path that I could even consider.

  Baseball was my destiny. Even as a junior in high school I captured the eye of college scouts. Dad was right. Baseball is my future. I’m good at it, and it looks as though I have an amazing career in front of me.