Chapter 1

1

SUTTON

“ W here are you?” Wes’s concerned voice filled my car.

The ice pelted the windshield. My fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles ached. I’d turned off the radio a while ago, not wanting to be distracted.

The road to my best friend Wes Calloway’s house was slick, but there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

The road was empty because most intelligent people were home with their families on Thanksgiving night or hadn’t ventured out.

But I’d needed to see Wes. To hear him say that my grandmother’s ultimatum was crazy, and I shouldn’t entertain it. I needed his comforting presence tonight more than ever.

Over the years, the Calloways’ home had become a respite for me after the holiday meals with my family.

Dinner with my family tended to send me into a tailspin. Wes and his family grounded me, bringing me back to the present .

I felt safe at the Calloways, and I needed that warmth wrapped around me like a blanket on a night like tonight. I couldn’t go back to my empty house. Not after the bomb Grandma had dropped at dinner.

“Sutton. Are you still with me?” Wes barked over the speakers.

“I’m on my way to you.” My mouth was so dry, but I didn’t dare lift my hand from the wheel to drink from the water bottle sitting in the cup holder.

“It’s freezing rain. The roads are slick.” As a Department of Natural Resources police officer, Wes had access to the same radio updates as his police officer brother Teddy, who was sure to be with him at dinner tonight.

“I know.” I didn’t like the tremor in my voice. I prided myself on being strong.

“You should turn around and go home. It’s not safe.”

Wes was straitlaced, always seeing things in black-and-white. Safe or dangerous. Always my port in the storm.

From the moment we met under the slide on our school’s playground, we’d been friends. He was always there to protect me from a bully or help me when I fell on the playground. And I needed him now.

I flexed my fingers, not letting go of the wheel. “I’m almost there. There’s no point in turning around now.”

“I’ll come get you.” Wes’s voice was hard and didn’t leave any room for argument.

“You shouldn’t be out in this,” I said, realizing how ridiculous I sounded.

“And you should?” Wes’s tone was incredulous.

I kept my eyes glued to the road in front of me while I willed my small car to say on the road. Every time it slid to the side, I pulled it back by sheer will. But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay in contro l

It felt a little like dinner with my family. The tighter I held on, the more out of control I felt.

Wes growled over the line. He was overprotective on a good day. But when someone he loved was in danger, he lost his cool.

“I’m okay,” I said gently, even as the sweat beading on my forehead told me a different story. “It helps to have your voice on the line.”

“If you slide, steer into it, don’t slam on the brakes.”

“Wes. You’ve told me this before.” And it was the mantra that had gotten me through the last few torturous miles.

“It’s different when you’re experiencing it.” The line fell silent, and I wondered if he was running his hand through his hair or gripping the back of his neck. “I’m coming to get you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“How far out are you?” His voice was tight.

“Five minutes without ice?” I tried to joke, but it fell flat.

“I’ll be right there.”

Before I could say anything, the line went dead. My heart surged at the idea that Wes was on his way. I didn’t want to be alone in this, but at the same time, I didn’t want him or one of his brothers to get hurt. They were involved in either law enforcement or firefighting, so they were versed in bad road conditions and rescue efforts.

Wes would be fine. He wouldn’t come out if he didn’t think he could make it.

My car slid again, and I brought my attention back to the road. I just had to go a few more feet, then a few more after that.

Just then lights flashed in the rearview mirror, and a truck driving way too fast came around the corner and swerved around me. Panicked, I jerked the wheel to the right, and my small car flew off the road, going airborne for one long second, then landed with a hard thud.

My head bumped into the steering wheel, my knee into the steering column, before my body flew back against the seat.

When the car stopped moving, I was almost afraid to breathe. I slowly opened my eyes, my entire body felt like it had been shaken up.

The airbags hadn’t deployed. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

All I could think about was how much I needed Wes to be here. I felt coolness on my forehead. I reached up, feeling a cut.

My knee hurt. But I was okay. I was off the side of the road. I hadn’t hit anything else like a tree. It could have been worse.

I just hoped no other vehicles would go by and crash into me.

It couldn’t have been long when lights flashed in my eyes. I hoped it was Wes.

The truck made a U-turn and parked alongside my vehicle, partially blocking the roadway. The passenger side door of the truck opened, and someone ran toward me.

I heard my name being shouted. But I felt a little dizzy and woozy. I wondered if I had a concussion.

The door ripped open, and the cold air made me shiver.

“How is she?” Jameson asked as he seemingly shoved Wes out of the way.

“Can we move her? Can we get her out of here?” Wes asked, his voice trembling.

I’d never heard him be anything other than completely put together and calm. Except for when his mother died .

“Should be able to,” Jameson said evenly. “How’s your head, Sutton?”

The pain was worse now. It felt like someone was using an ice pick on my head, and my neck ached. I touched my forehead. “It hurts.”

“Anything else get hurt when you slid off the road?” Jameson’s voice was soothing.

My hand drifted lower. “My knee.”

“Okay. I’m going to look at you. If everything’s good, I’ll carry you to my truck. Then we’ll take you home and treat you there.”

Home. To the Calloway’s house. The place that made me feel warm and content, accepted and loved. There had never been any pressure or expectation at the Calloway house. I was accepted as is, and it was an amazing feeling.

“What about my car?” I didn’t like the idea of leaving it here.

“We’ll call a tow for it. It will be fine.” Jameson’s fingers lightly probed my forehead, my scalp, then my knee. Then he traveled to other parts of my body, and I felt too exhausted to ask what he was doing.

“I’m going to unbuckle your seatbelt and carry you to my truck.” Every word was said slowly, but I knew Jameson was focused on me and the road, listening for any signs that another vehicle was close by.

I merely nodded, and Jameson released the buckle. Before I could register what was happening, Wes was there. “I’ve got her.”

“Be careful. We don’t know what other injuries she could have.” Jameson’s voice sounded so far away.

I was lifted out of the car and cradled in Wes’s arms. He carried me to the truck, placing me carefully into the back seat before climbing in and shutting the door. The interior of the truck’s cab was warm and cozy, a contrast to the air outside.

Wes buckled me into the middle seat, then pulled me across his lap. He brushed my hair off my forehead. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I am.” Being this close to Wes was like coming home. I felt safe, warm, and protected. Nothing could get to me here. Not my grandmother’s ultimatum, my parents’ shock, or the weather.

“I think you hit your head hard.”

My hand fluttered to my forehead. “I mean, it hurts, so?—”

“I’m only saying that because you’re letting me hold you.” There was amusement in his tone.

I tried to shrug, but the position was awkward for the movement. “You feel too good.” That was the reason why I resisted touching him and only gave him the briefest of kisses on the cheek. When he filled out as a teenager, I was hyper aware of the man Wes was growing into. I was attracted to him despite my brain telling me what a bad idea it was.

When he started talking about girls he liked, I knew I wasn’t even on his radar. He’d put me firmly into the friend zone, and I couldn’t let on that I crushed on him, or I’d lose the relationship we had. And I couldn’t lose him. He had been the rock in my tumultuous life.

The one I went to when my family was too much. I just didn’t let him consume my life. He had girlfriends on and off, and I was very aware that they hated it when I hung around.

I flitted in and out of his life based on his relationship status and pretended that we were just friends. That I didn’t get a tingle of awareness each time his body brushed mine. That I didn’t enjoy laying in his lap right now even though my head ached and my knee throbbed.

Wes Calloway was a friend. He’d never be anything more. But for tonight, I’d enjoy every minute of laying in his lap and soak up the comfort he provided.

One day, Wes would be doing this with his fiancée or even his wife. I needed to protect my heart around him and not let my expectations run wild. Even if I wanted him to tell me he’d always liked me too.

It was a pipe dream. Not my reality. I knew what to expect out of life, and it wasn’t dreams being fulfilled or happy endings. It was hard work and sacrifice.

The front driver’s side door opened and closed. There was a thud as if Jameson had thrown something on the floor of the car. Then he asked over his shoulder, “You got her?”

“Yes,” Wes said as he adjusted me on his lap.

I breathed him in, enjoying the familiar smell of sandalwood, leather, and man.

“Claire shouldn’t drive home tonight,” Wes said quietly as if he didn’t want to disturb me. “Her and Owen can stay at the main house.”

I kept my eyes closed, wanting him to think I was asleep.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jameson said tightly.

When we reached the main house, Jameson opened the door for Wes, and he carried me up the porch steps and into the house.

“I’m going to take her upstairs to one of the bedrooms.” Wes maneuvered me past him and up the steps.

I sensed there were people hovering around, and I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want anyone commenting on my less-than-stellar appearance. I was positive there was dried blood on my face and even a rip in my slacks.

Sutton Rosesmith never went out in public looking like less than the wealthy socialite she was. That had been ingrained in me since birth. Plus, I felt raw after that family meeting. I couldn’t believe that I might lose everything.

I might not have had the best parents, but I adored our family’s estate. I’d grown up exploring the grounds and the rooms, making up stories about the history of each item.

Wes shifted me in his arms, then placed me onto a soft surface. A bed in one of the guest rooms of his dad’s house. I wondered if it used to be his room.

“Let me grab you some water and a warm washcloth.” Wes moved, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’m okay.”

“I want to check you for a concussion and clean up those cuts. You’re going to want some water and pain meds for the headache. Tomorrow, you’re going to have some wicked whiplash.”

I licked my dry lips. “You don’t have to fuss.”

Wes moved quickly so that his hands were braced on either side of my head on the comforter and his body hovered over mine. My breath hitched in response, and every nerve in my body was firing with awareness.

“Let me take care of you. Just this once.” His eyes were filled with worry and tenderness; I couldn’t say no.

“Okay.”

Wes sighed, and I knew he found me aggravating at times. My insistence on being independent and handling everything myself. According to him, I still let my family rule my life.

He’d urged me over the years to break ties with them, but I couldn’t. They were the only family I had. And Wes couldn’t possibly understand, not with a family like his. Not even his mother’s death broke his apart. It only made them stronger .

He moved toward the bathroom presumably for a washcloth the same time Jameson came into the room.

Jameson helped me to sit up, propped against the pillows. Then he ran through some tests with a tiny flashlight to see if I had a concussion.

“She probably has a mild concussion. Are you able to stay with her tonight, waking her up every few hours to make sure she’s okay?”

Wes had returned with the washcloth and cleaned my forehead. “I can do that.”

Yet his jaw was tight, and he seemed on edge.

“You don’t have to—” I was well versed in navigating situations where I wasn’t wanted, and I hated this feeling.

Wes leveled me with his stern look. The one that brooked no arguments. “I said I’d take care of you, and you promised you’d let me.”

Jameson made a sound. Was he laughing at us? I hadn’t found anything about tonight to be amusing. But then again, they didn’t know why I was so distraught. “You’re right.”

“You’ll have some soreness and bruising, and tomorrow, you’ll probably have some pain in your neck and back from the bumping around. Take it easy for a few days, and then you should be fine.”

“Take it easy?” I had so much to do. I needed to figure out how to get around this ultimatum.

Jameson’s lips twitched. “Think you can manage it?”

I opened my mouth to protest, and Wes said. “I’m on it.”

I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him only because my head ached. “You’re not my keeper.”

“For the next few days, I am.” Wes’s voice was grim.

I ignored the flood of feel-good emotions that coursed through my body at his words. No one had ever vowed to take care of me, not even my own parents. Why would they when they had nannies at their disposal?

Jameson backed toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be staying at the cottage with Claire.”

Wes’s gaze swung from me to Jameson. “You two are serious?”

Jameson’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Wes tipped his head to the side. “Where’s Owen sleeping?”

“I was going to suggest he stay at the main house. He wanted to play video games.”

Wes nodded. “We’ll take care of him.”

“Text me if you need me.”

“Absolutely.” Wes’s amused gaze swung back to me, and he winked. Heat flooded my body.

Jameson left the room.

He sat gingerly on the bed, at my hip. “Care to tell me what happened at dinner that had you so upset?”

I sighed. “Grandma is redoing her will.”

Wes barely suppressed an eye-roll. “You know she just likes to keep you in line by threatening you with changing it, right?”

I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “This time she’s using everything in her arsenal.”

“And what would that be?” Wes asked.

I drew in a breath before I said, “I have to get married before she dies, or the estate goes to charity. She claims she’s sick and only has a few months to live.”

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

“She’s been saying that ever since she was diagnosed with heart issues. The will has already been rewritten. She gave me a copy to show to my attorney. ”

I rarely saw Wes angry, but right now he was seething. “What right does she have to order you to get married?”

“She controls everything.” She’s always acted as the puppet master, pulling strings when it suited her. I watched my parents jump on many occasions, trying to please her, hoping it meant more money for them.

I didn’t particularly care about the money. I wanted to preserve the house and the memories inside. The house had been in the Rosesmith family for generations, and I wasn’t about to let the proceeds from its sale be donated to charity. I had plans for how I wanted to use it.

His jaw worked. “What are you going to do?”

“I have to get married.”

“Your grandmother tells you to get married, and you comply. Just like that?” Wes snapped his fingers.

I grimaced. “What other choice do I have? I need the house.”

Wes stood abruptly and paced the room. “She’s playing a game with your life, and I don’t like it.”

“The Rosesmith name can be so much more. I want to keep the house in the family and do something good with it.” Wes had listened to me talk over the years. He knew my dreams inside and out.

Wes’s face softened as he sat by my side on the bed. “You have such a big heart. You’re so much bigger than them.”

“They’re my family.”

Wes sighed. “It doesn’t mean you have to stick around and take the abuse.”

“I want the house.” I’d been saying that to myself over the years every time I was at a dinner I didn’t want to be at or a gala or some other event where my presence was required.

“So what’s the plan? ”

“Mom has some eligible bachelors lined up for me to consider.”

“I bet they’re all trust-fund babies who’ve never worked a job before, hoping for a big pay day by marrying you.” He stood and paced again. “And who wouldn’t? You’re intelligent, beautiful, and kind.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” I didn’t think I’d ever heard him say that before, but I’d bumped my head pretty good.

Wes’s jaw tightened. “You know you are.”

Yeah, but it was different hearing him say it.

Wes stopped at the end of the bed. “We’ll figure this out. Just not tonight. You need to rest.”

Wes pulled his shirt off revealing his toned pecs, defined abs, and the sprinkling of hair that thickened toward the waist band of his jeans.

Over the years, I’d seen him in various stages of dress, but this was the first time he was getting ready to go to bed with me.