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Waves of Despair: Oyster Cove Series Page 3


  “A couple months. West found out last night. I didn’t know he was going to ask me to marry him.”

  “He surprised us all.” Jamie admits.

  Jamie has been around and known Brice since we were all kids, but they weren’t friends until she came back to town and started dating my brother. For the most part we’ve become close to them, going as far as saying they’re whom we like to spend our free time with. Both women are busy. Jamie runs a Vet clinic, while Brice manages her human patients out of the house. The garage has been converted to a large office where she can see her patients without the distractions of being in the house. During the evenings she spends a lot of time with her parents and sister. They have two dinners a week, and usually I don’t go along. Her father and I butt heads. He thinks a waterman isn’t good enough for his precious doctor daughter. He’s told me several times that he’ll never respect me. That’s the problem with living in a small town and dating an ex FBI agent’s daughter. I’m sure he’s done his homework on me. He knows how many tickets I’ve had, and even mentioned my credit score once after a few beers. Another time he asked if I’d ever been treated for a STD, which I had way back when I first graduated high school. It wasn’t anything that some topical ointment couldn’t cure, but obviously could only be found in my medical records.

  Like I said, he’s never going to like me and I’m okay with it. He doesn’t have to befriend me or approve of me marrying his daughter. We’ll do it without his permission, and in this case that’s exactly how I want it. I didn’t ask for Brice’s hand. I refuse to. Why bother? I already know the answer, even though it won’t deter me. We are grown-ups. It’s not medieval times. Arranged marriages in this day and age are far and few in America.

  “Now all we have to do is keep the pregnancy a secret until her parents can absorb the news of us being engaged.”

  Jamie and Brant both laugh at this assumption. My brother shakes his head. “Good luck with that.”

  A guffaw expels. “Merry Christmas to me.”

  They all know what I’m getting at. This will be the worst Christmas for Brice’s father and I can hardly contain my excitement to have something over him.

  “He’s liable to shoot you,” Brant mentions.

  “He ain’t going to shoot me, but he might shed a tear. That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  “Weston Wallace, behave. I don’t need an altercation on Christmas. I’ll tell my parents and you’ll sit beside me calm and without a shit-eating grin on your face. Got it?”

  I nod. Whether I’m able to smile is irrelevant. The news alone will pucker his butthole and give him hemorrhoids. I can hardly contain my excitement.

  Chapter 3

  Weston

  “You sure you’re feeling better?” I ask, uncertain of how my fiancée can possibly go from puking to eating that quickly.

  “Yes,” Brice pushes me toward the truck. The sleet has turned to rain as the daytime temperature rose above freezing. Brice offers an annoyed gesture, flipping her hand in the air. “Stop acting like you’re not excited to break my dad’s heart.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “I can’t help it. I’d be lying if I said a part of me hasn’t wanted this since the moment we began dating.”

  “You thought I was hard to crack,” she reminds me as we get on our way. I’ve had the truck running so it’s warm inside, but the ice still remains on the side windows. I roll mine down and beat it off so I’m able to see out of my mirror. Brice does the same to her side. Even as she shuffles in a large fake fur trimmed parka, I can smell the scent of her shampoo and conditioner.

  After my brother and Jamie left us, we spent a good amount of time showering, and doing some other things, like opening presents. The parka is a gift from me. She’s always freezing, so I know she’ll get use out of it. I’m good in a thick jacket, because it’s usually hard for me to sit still. Brice is the opposite. She sits all day, and even keeps a heater underneath her desk.

  I got a new razor, which I find comical since she loves to steal mine and use it on her legs. While I can appreciate them being silky and smooth for my benefit, I often keep my complaints at bay, although I have a feeling this one will end up the same place the old one did. She also got me a new controller for my video gaming system and a case for my cell phone. My last present was a book about pregnancy and becoming a father. I plan on reading it cover to cover, because I know nothing about newborns or raising a child.

  I bought her a pair of better sneakers to wear when we ride bikes, ones without laces, because my special lady always seems to get hers stuck in the chain and ends up screaming. I don’t get it. She’s highly intelligent, but sometimes does the silliest things.

  She happens to be wearing a pair of boots that come to her knees and a hat that covers her ears. When she looks in my direction her small framed nose is red. “You can’t possibly be cold.”

  “I’m fine. It’s only my face that’s freezing.” She leans into the blowing heat vent and closes her eyes.

  The driving is slow. I don’t want to chance slipping, and since we’re only going two miles down the road there’s really no rush.

  When we pull up at the house she was raised in I suck in a heavy breath. Peering over at her left hand, the ring shines the same way it did when I put it on her finger. She offers me a quick smile. “You’re nervous.”

  “I’m a little apprehensive.”

  “Afraid he’s going to go off his rocker?”

  “You tell me. You’re the shrink.”

  “I think you’ll be fine if you keep a good distance.” She sighs while staring at the front door. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them today. We could wait, celebrate and have a nice dinner, then tell them this coming week, or after the new year.”

  “Seriously?” As much as I expect her father to lose his mind, I won’t allow Brice to keep our engagement a secret. I worked too damn hard to get her to this point. I’ll be damned if her asshole of a dad is going to prevent us from celebrating.

  “I can’t keep it a secret. It’s the best Christmas present ever. Just let me drink a few beers before we tell the old man. I need to prepare mentally.”

  “The only thing you need to prepare for is my dad’s foot up your ass when he finds out I’m pregnant before the wedding.”

  “Should we book a flight to Vegas and get it over with now?”

  She shoves me. “West, be serious.”

  “We’re not telling them about the baby. I get it.”

  “Promise you won’t let it slip like you did with Brant and Jamie?”

  “Jamie guessed it, I told you that earlier.”

  “Still, you could have lied.”

  “Lied?” I ask. “Why? I don’t care who knows. I’m excited. If we get money from your parents we’re totally using it to furnish the nursery.”

  She shakes her head, gets out of the truck, and stews as she marches to the entrance, leaving me to carry in all the gifts for her family.

  I can almost smell the heat radiating from inside when I open the door. The aroma of food fills the foyer, while voices seem to be coming from the living room. I follow them until I spot Brice and her mother, whose name is Kathy. She’s a heavyset woman with the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Her smile is always friendly, even though I know she doesn’t think I’m right for her daughter. She heads in my direction, and doesn’t seem to care if my hug is half cocked with two hands full of gift bags. “Merry Christmas, Weston.”

  “Same to you,” I offer as Brice grabs the bags. “Where’s Mr. Phillip?”

  “Santa brought Kimber a car for Christmas. They took it for a spin.”

  My brows raise. “Really? Kimber got a car?”

  Brice shrugs like it’s no big deal, while I feel a bit jealous and annoyed. They baby Kimber. She’s twenty four years old, immature, and self centered. She dropped out of college and works retail jobs while living at home still.

  It’s ridiculous to think they’d go out of their way to give
her something expensive when she’s not going to appreciate it.

  “They got me a car when I was her age too.” I don’t know why Brice feels the need to explain. I won’t change my opinion about her sister. I know for a fact that Brice is always coming to her rescue when she’s screwed up, which is often. Even my brothers steer clear of her, on account of not wanting to get on my bad side. I couldn’t care less about that. She’s not worth the quick lay, not with her attitude.

  “It’s a generous gesture for sure. I wish my dad would have been able to give us kids a car. We had to work for it.”

  I catch a disturbed reaction form across her mother’s face. “Would you like something to drink, West?” The fake smile appears again when she speaks. “I made sweet tea.”

  “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.” I was taught to use manners, but I could be an expert on etiquette and they’d still hate me. At first I thought it was because of my appearance. I have tattoos, and my hair was pretty out of control when Brice first brought me around. Then I cleaned up my look. Brice cut my hair, and I started wearing pants that actually fit me, instead of the jeans that hung off my ass. I was respectful and always honest, but they still picked at me. Behind my back they’d beg Brice to open her eyes and see that she was wasting her time on an immature town boy. They said my whole family was bad news, which isn’t even true. My father is a good man. Sure, when mom died he drank himself into a stupor on occasion, but he taught us kids to act right. We weren’t criminals.

  Brice sits next to me on the long couch, while her mother takes the seat across from us. The tree blinks different colored lights in the far corner, while Nutcrackers line up the large front windowsill.

  The sound of a motor pulling into the long gravel driveway captures my immediate attention. I know they’ve returned, and as my hands begin to perspire I become anxious. I’m not necessarily a bad guy who wishes ill towards others, but this man would be the equivalent to my arch enemy in a comic book. He’s the worst possible father-in-law scenario out there. I feel like that movie with the Focker guy, except I’m living it for real. The power he holds over me is frustrating, so being aware that I have something over his head makes this holiday a bit easier to handle.

  Officially, it’s my fourth Christmas with Brice. We celebrated as friends before that, but it was the start of her bringing me home with her. After admitting to her feelings, the gloves came off. I’d met her parents before, but this changed the ballgame. I was no longer the guy their daughter was determined to fix. I became their worst nightmare, and I really don’t get why. I mean, sure I have a past, but everyone in this small, godforsaken town has some kind of past they wish they could take back. Honestly though, I don’t wish I could take it back, because all of those choices led me to Brice. I’m with her because I was a wreck she felt the need to fix.

  It’s not like Brice is perfect. She was a good student, who prided herself in achieving what she set out, but she smoked a lot of weed. She hung out with the drama kids, and who knows what else they indulged their extracurricular activities in. I almost don’t want to ever ask. People think the nerdy type are innocent and they aren’t. They’re just better about not getting caught.

  On the other hand, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Kimber is probably as promiscuous as I was, and for a chick that’s pretty bad. She’s been caught stealing, and they’ve had her come home trashed way more then they will ever admit. Yet, she gets a new car and a pat on the back, while I continue to receive the stink eye and warnings about ruining their daughter’s future.

  All they’ve done is shown me what I want more than anything. What they think isn’t enough for Brice, turns out to be exactly what she wants. We’re happy in our little house. We have plenty of money to take vacations and enjoy a night out if we choose. We’re not strapped with bills because luxuries aren’t important to us. This is coming from a guy who used to blow half his paycheck in the bar on payday. I’ve grown up. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? I guess what keeps me bitter is the fact that no matter how hard I try I’ll never be able to do right by Brice. I’ll always be considered an outsider, even in twenty years from now when I’ve been faithful and supportive. It won’t matter. I can tell every time that man looks at me. So I have a choice. I can either let it eat my conscience alive or annoy the hell out of him. The latter seems a lot more entertaining. If he wants reasons to give me a hard time, he’s about to get a bomb dropped on him.

  Chapter 4

  Weston

  He enters wearing a pair of khaki slacks and an ugly ass sweater I swear was purchased sometime in the eighties. His gray hair is slicked back over his balding scalp, and his large belly almost gives the impression of bursting it’s way out of the jacket he has half zipped. Our eyes meet and I already notice the building animosity between us. Lowering my gaze, I catch Kimber walking into the house behind him. She’s wearing what looks like a new North Face jacket, a fancy pair of the furry boots girls like, and a smile that’s damn near annoying. She holds up a set of keys while taking her hand through the long reddish brown locks that block one side of her face. “Look what I got. Can you even believe it?”

  I raise my brows and sip on the fresh tea I’ve been handed. Brice stands and hugs both of them before peering out the window at the new vehicle. A red convertible. Of course they’d get her the car she’s talked about for months. So predictable. If anyone is undeserving, it’s this chick. She’s such a menace.

  It takes the old man a matter of seconds to spot something shining on his other daughter’s left hand. He takes her by the wrist, causing me to prepare to react accordingly if he thinks he can harm her in any way. “Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

  She pulls out of his hold and flashes it around for everyone to see. I know it’s nothing shabby that he can mock. I financed the sucker, and for the next five years I’ll be making hefty payments.

  “Can you believe it?” She starts. “Last night West asked me to marry him. It was beautiful. He took me to the lighthouse just as the snow was starting to fall.”

  “The lighthouse?” Her father questions. “The park is closed after hours.”

  “A friend of mine is a Natural Resource officer. He gave me the key to the lighthouse so I was able to pop the question in the very spot we shared our first official date.” I stand and head over to where Brice is, wrapping my arms around her waist as I continue. “It’s our special place, right, babe?”

  She nods as I kiss the side of her face and glance over at her father, who may or may not be wondering how fast he can grab one of his firearms to end my life. “It was time. We’re not getting any younger.”

  Brice’s mom must sense the mind-war us two guys are currently concentrated on. She claps her hands together to get our attention. “This calls for a celebration.” I can tell she has mixed feelings. She wants her child to be happy, but at the same time doesn’t want to piss off her controlling husband. “I’ll get us the eggnog.”

  Brice spins around and offers me a quick kiss. When she pulls away she notices I’m in a staring match with her father. She gives me a look of disapproval, and leads me back over to the sofa. A tray of eggnog is being carried from the kitchen. Kimber is the first to take a glass, before sitting next to Brice and grabbing her hand to stare at the ring. “It’s huge. I bet that set you back a few dollars, West.”

  I nod. She’s so damn greedy. She’d probably reject a future proposal if the ring wasn’t to her standards. Whoever gets stuck with that hot mess is doomed for a lifetime of regret.

  “Your sister is worth it.” I elbow Brice lightly on the side to catch her attention. We’re both given a glass of the nog, before her parents offer their glasses to the air. We always toast to something, but I never imagined it would be us. She takes her arm and wraps it into Brice’s fathers, and all I’m thinking is that she’s doing it to prevent him from attacking me.

  “To Brice and West,” Kimber begins.

  One voice d
oesn’t repeat it, but instead of making eye contact with him again, I focus on Brice raising the alcoholic beverage to her lips. She doesn’t drink, but pretends and sits the glass down on the coffee table in front of us. I drink half, even though I hate the stuff, and put mine beside hers.

  “Does it taste bad?” Her mother asks.

  “No. Just not in the mood for it today,” Brice replies.

  “But it’s always been your favorite,” Kimber reminds everyone. “Who needs a reason to drink anyway? If you’re not going to finish it, I will.”

  “She’s probably knocked up. That’s why they want to get married,” her father mumbles.

  The moment his focus hits me I think he knows the truth. I turn my eyes to Brice, who is already beginning to panic. She’s fidgets, which is something she only does when she’s nervous.

  “I’m not pregnant,” she lies quickly.

  I take her hand and squeeze it. “I got the ring months ago. I’ve been planning this since last year, sir. I love your daughter, and I want to make an honest woman out of her.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Common courtesy obviously isn’t your strong suit. I’m assuming you had no regard for asking my permission.”

  “Listen,” I begin, because I know this is never going to get better if I don’t make the effort. “It’s Christmas. I’ve been a part of your daughter’s life for years now. We live together, and I know it bothers you guys that we aren’t married. I want this for us. Brice wants it. We’re happy, and it would be real nice if for once we could put the past behind us. If we were just starting out I would have come to you,” I lie. “We’re basically already married as it is.”

  “We are who we are because of our past, Weston. You clearly were never taught respect.”

  I shake my head, clenching my jaw to prevent a violent rush of words I know I shouldn’t say. “I’m not the punk kid you still see me as. I’m a grown man with responsibilities and commitments. I take good care of your daughter. I treat her right, and have the utmost respect for her as a person. You might not think I’m worthy of her, but she does, and that’s got to be good enough. Say what you want about me, but don’t ever question my actions when it comes to your daughter. With or without your permission, we’re going married. ”