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Of course!I had this. But if that was the case, why did the sinking feeling dive deeper into my stomach? And why did I have the sneaking suspicion that I was making the biggest mistake of my life?

27: Rock and a Hard Place

That night at dinner, things were more than a little awkward. It was just the four of us—Charles, Marissa, Wes, and me. Charles and Marissa sat on either end of the table, while Wes and I sat on opposite sides of each other. And we barely spoke two words. Turns out, when it wasn’t a dinner party, the Calvernons weren’t very chatty people.

Charles attempted to strike up a conversation from time to time, but Wes and his mother sat like stone, stoic and hardly moving as they ate. Wes wouldn’t even look at me, and Marissa gave me several glaring gazes when she thought I wasn’t watching. Needless to say, it was awkward. I got the sense that everyone was sitting with secrets, afraid that uttering one word would give away their sneaky plots and reveal their schemes.

As soon as I was done eating, I excused myself from the table and got the hell out of there. Because the truth was, I had my own secrets I was afraid of giving away. And I was still a little confused about the emotions that swirled within me whenI thought about Wes and Blondie. His refusal to look at me confirmed my suspicions that he had definitely seen me at The Creamery and knew that I had seen him with Calista. The whole thing left me with a cocktail of conflicting feelings that I just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with. So, I made a beeline for my room, and didn’t come out again until morning.

This time, I set an alarm to make sure I didn’t sleep in. My conversation with Edith the day before reinvigorated my motivation to save my brother, and I had to touch base with Giza to find out what plan they had already devised for Jacob’s rescue. Then, I had to get to work on assembling a team. Although my mind kept thinking about Wes and Calista, I shoved all that as far down as I could, because the reality was, it didn’t matter. As long as Wes stuck with the marriage, he and Blondie could canoodle all they wanted. And the faster I got this mission underway, the faster I could get out of here.

Bright and early, I showered and got dressed. I slipped on a pair of skinny jeans, a mauve t-shirt, and a pair of white sneakers. I messaged the estate staff and asked for something to eat and coffee to be brought to my room. The last thing I wanted was another awkward encounter with the Calvernons.

I waited rather impatiently for my meal, but resisted the urge to open the door and look down the hall. So I paced instead, back and forth, until a knock finally broke the silence.

Oh thank you, lord.

I trotted over and opened the door.

“Breakfast in bed?”

My jaw dropped as my stomach somersaulted, my heart thrumming as my sight landed on hazel eyes. If there was a different backstory going on here, I’d be swooning and ready to drop my panties. Because Wes really was sexy as hell. Chiseled, clean-shaven, sharp features, blond hair neatly secured at the nape of his neck, black t-shirt that hugged every pictorial rippleand washboard ab, dark blue jeans, and strong hands holding a tray with a steaming mug of coffee, something else that smelled heavenly on a plate, and exactly one long stem white rose resting on top of a folded white linen napkin.

I mean,seriously…who wouldn’t find themselves ready to dive under the sheets with a hot guy bringing you breakfast?

But our backstory was different, complicated. And as much as a low simmering heat filled me, along with othersensationsI dared not admit to myself, I was also completely mortified.

“You can close your mouth at any time.”

And now I was doubly mortified, snapping my mouth closed as heat flushed my cheeks. I just didn’t get it. Why did Wes always have this effect on me? He was constantly catching me with my mouth hanging open like a baby bird waiting for its next meal. Not even Chase had this effect on me…and they wereidentical! I mean, what freaking gives? But, then again, no one caught me off guard and kept me guessing more than Wes. Just when I thought I knew what he was thinking or what he was going to do next, he did something completely different and unexpected. And, apparently, the only way I knew how to express shock was by catching flies with my mouth.

“Are you going to invite me in? Or should I just take the muffin back to the kitchen?” The gleam in his eye revealed he was enjoying this interaction way more than he should, and that piece finally snapped me back to my senses.

“Yeah…um, come on in,” I stuttered as I opened the door wider, stepping out of the way.

Wes tipped his head in acknowledgement and walked inside, heading straight for the two wingback chairs by the stained-glass window. I closed the door behind him and joined him as he put the tray down on the small end table next to the chair. I waited, expecting him to leave.

He didn’t.

He sat down in the opposite chair, settling in as he rested one ankle on the knee of his other leg, and watched me.

Oookay. I guess this is happening. I cleared my throat, mustering my courage. I walked to the empty chair and sat down.

Silence.

We just sat there quietly, the clock ticking away the seconds as steam rose softly in small swirls from my mug. Did he really expect me to just eat? This was too weird, too awkward for me. Who goes off with their ex around town, doesn’t say a word all night, and then brings their fiancé breakfast in the morning? It was too early for this kind of drama, and I had a lot to get done today. If he wanted to sit there and be weird, then by all means. But I had bigger things to do with my time. So I grabbed the muffin-thing and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

I looked at him, and for once, I think I caughthimby surprise if the raised brow was any indication. “Out.” I turned away from him, walking to my bed where my mini-tab was still charging. My plan was to eat breakfast and then go to the base. But if Wes was going to be weird, then I could take this squishy-bread-thing on the road. I just needed to message the estate staff for a ride.

“Mara…”

I paused mid-step. Because the way Wes said my name sounded more like a plea than anything else. I breathed in deeply, but I didn’t move, waiting for what came next.

He understood my behavior perfectly. “Can we talk…please?”

He got me. He got me with that last word.Please. Because Wes rarely asked for anything. It was always a demand, an expectation, a command. But right here, right now, Wes was asking. But I had no desire to do this right now, which is why I was trying to avoid the whole awkward breakfast shitshow to begin with. “I’m sorry, Wes, but I’ve got to go,” I said over myshoulder as I started walking to my nightstand again. “We can talk later—”