Page 38 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

Pressing her lips together, she stayed silent.

They might not discuss Rebecca Miller often, but Jamison’s morbid curiosity had gotten the better of her on more than one occasion.

Countless documentaries were out there, all circulating with variations of the truth.

They usually centered their reporting around Tobias, but a few covered Rebecca’s background and what the media liked to call The Women of Haven House.

The tales spun by the public always made Haven House sound like a low-key brothel. It was one of the main reasons people flocked to Toby. They thought he never stood a chance and couldn’t help but become a monster. They believed he only needed a little love to fix him.

“Ben and I made peace a long time ago,” Rowan said. “He understands how his role in the whole thing hurt so many, and he understands it quite well. I can’t begin to imagine his guilt over it.”

“That’s why you took the job at Fairweather Holdings?”

“Nah, I took it because you guys had shitty security, and I was pissed at my own family for my own reasons. None of which I’ll be elaborating on,” Rowan replied. “And I happen to get along with Samuel, which not many people can claim to do.”

The whole being pissed at his family part was intriguing, but she didn’t want to pry. Not with him, at least. She would corner Annabeth later to see what she knew, or maybe Liam. He would know. Her man knew everything .

“But my point is,” Rowan continued, “I want time with Annabeth to remind her that even if my family is a little extreme, it shouldn’t matter. Not when it comes to her.”

“Why not when it comes to her?”

“Because eventually, she’s going to be my family.”

He said the statement with such conviction that goosebumps tickled down her arms, making Jamison grin. “What are you getting at, Rowan?”

“You’re not an idiot,” he sighed. “You know what I’m getting at.”

Jamison giggled, unable to hold it in. “We should do a double wedding.”

“Hell, no.”

“Why?”

“Because my woman deserves her own day.” Rowan's voice sharpened. “Annabeth gets the whole wedding experience and is not about to share it with another bride. I want her to have it all. The dress. The tiara. The attention. Everyone serving her like she’s royalty.”

Jamison could already see it. Annabeth would definitely want a tiara and all the extravagance of a formal wedding.

There would need to be caterers and flowers—lots of flowers—in the right shade to compliment whatever theme she wanted.

They might do it on the lawn or something unique.

Annabeth adored the conservatory, so maybe they could make it work there.

“You do realize that just a few weeks ago, you were having sex with her through a camera. And now you want to drag her down the aisle wearing a tiara?”

Rowan relaxed at the thought. “I’m aware, but I don’t care. If she wants a tiara, she gets a tiara.”

“Who gets a tiara?”

Dressed in a dark blue T-shirt and jeans that had seen better days, Liam popped his head through the door.

One sleeve of his shirt was rolled up, exposing a white bandage on his muscled bicep.

His hair was askew like he’d run a hand through it a million times.

The entire look had her doing a double take.

“Are you okay?”

He gave her a thin smile. “I’m good. What are you two talking about? ”

Patting the seat next to her, Jamison crooked a finger. “Rowan’s saying he wants to marry Annabeth in a tiara.”

Liam smirked as he crossed the room and dropped beside her, tugging her legs across his lap like it was second nature. “Are we doing a double ceremony? Because if so, we need to order a tiara by, like, yesterday.”

“He hasn’t even asked her yet,” Jamison whispered. “He’s just planning the tiara logistics.”

Liam kissed her quickly. “Annabeth would rock a tiara. So would you. Want one?”

“Nah, I wear an invisible one twenty-four-seven.” She poked his chest. “And this whole conversation started because Rowan wants twenty minutes of alone time with Annabeth. Twenty. Not even a full half hour.”

“Twenty minutes?” Liam raised a brow, all faux-serious. “We can make it happen, but you better return the favor. And no security camera footage, please. I don’t need Ben seeing anything.”

Rowan looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

Jamison didn’t care. She was back where she belonged. Her legs in Liam’s lap. His hand on her knee. The storm of everything else fading into the background.

“Yeah,” Rowan grumbled. “That was what I was getting at. And I’m done talking about this.”

“I’m not,” Liam said, his hand drifting higher. “When are we doing this? Better yet, when do Jamison and I get to collect our twenty minutes?”

“He originally wanted to take her on the boat,” Jamison said. “But not, like, on the water, right?”

“We were going to have dinner under the stars,” Rowan said. “But someone had to go and get himself shot.”

“You have my sincerest apologies,” Liam replied sarcastically. “I’ll never let it happen again.”

“You better not,” Jamison mumbled.

Liam’s hand reached her thigh and squeezed. Not enough to tickle, but just to comfort. He could handle her tears and her pain, yet when it came to her being scared, it drove him insane. Being the protector was ingrained in him .

“Have you talked to Simone?” Liam asked Rowan. “You know how this works. She and Abe need to be in the loop before you drop this on Annabeth.”

Rowan waved a vague hand at the room. “I’ve been a bit busy.”

“That’s such an old-school take,” Jamison huffed. “Annabeth can make her own decisions.”

This time, Liam squeezed her thigh hard enough to make her squeak. “I talked to your dad.”

“No, you didn’t. That proposal was spontaneous.”

He just smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of contradicting you.”

“So, what? You talked to him before proposing?”

“Something like that.”

“Explain, William.”

With Rowan occupied, he leaned in. “I talked to your dad. And Samuel. But first, I went to Simone. I’m not an idiot.”

“They would’ve told me.”

“For once, this family’s inability to communicate like normal people worked to my advantage. No one told you. Not your dad, your brothers, Simone, the twins, and definitely not your sister. Evie was the most excited out of everyone.” He bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a smile. “And Tammy—”

“Not my Tammy.”

“Oh yeah. Tammy helped. Hillary did, too. The two of them got together and made a global spreadsheet of proposal locations.”

Jamison stared. “And you picked Paris.”

“I picked us.”

She pressed her lips to his, cradling the back of his head with one hand. “I love you.”

There it was. The hint of sadness in his eyes. It struck her like a knife because she knew exactly what was going on in his head. If she loved him, how could she have left? How could she have thrown them away and hidden what happened?

Pathetically enough, she didn’t have an answer. She hated herself and what she had done. Liam was the better man—the best man—for the forgiveness he’d shown, but she wasn’t so sure she deserved it.

“When you two are finished making out, I’ve got something you need to see,” Rowan said, his war on the keyboard over. “Looks like we’re barking up the right tree after all.”