Trade It All

  Propose?

  He waited for the panic to come, but it didn’t.

  He pictured coming home to Willa. Waking with her in his arms. A flash forward in time would have them visiting his parents with their children in tow.

  There were many things he didn’t know, many questions he couldn’t answer, but how he felt about Willa was no longer one of them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Willa wiped her hands on a towel and sat back to study her creation. At Emily’s suggestion, she’d spent every night that week working on a piece for Emily’s museum. It was a welcome distraction from what was otherwise turning out to be another miserable week.

  I knew it would hurt when it ended, but I didn’t expect it to end so soon. Or so abruptly.

  Or for him to lie.

  Although Willa had started off thinking she would paint something, she’d turned to working with clay as a way to vent some of her frustration. Last week she’d worried that Lance was actually dealing with a crisis at work, but now she knew the truth.

  Sex doesn’t mean the same thing to men that it does to women. We had a good time together, but that’s it. I just wish he’d had the balls to tell me he only wanted one night.

  My heart would be just as broken, but at least I wouldn’t have run to my cell phone every time it rang like some idiot. I wouldn’t have opened my heart so freely to him.

  Or maybe I would have.

  It’s always been all or nothing with Lance.

  When will I learn?

  What wasn’t helping her forget him was the damn bouquet of flowers she still received from him daily. They always came with a note she refused to read. She didn’t want another apology from him. I want to stick those flowers up his ass.

  He only pretends to care about me until I fall for it. Then BAM—every time.

  As her mood darkened, Willa forced herself to go back to working on the clay sculpture. Maybe the flowers need to keep coming so I’ll remember what an ass he is.

  He doesn’t define me.

  She sat back and studied the piece she was working on. She’d chosen her relationship with her sister as the subject. Two identical figurines stood on either side of a double-sided full-length mirror, holding hands by reaching around it. Their reflection was a painting of their soul rather than their actual stance. On Lexi’s side, Willa had portrayed her sister as a warrior in her reflection with one hand placed defiantly on her hip, but she’d softened the image by making her eyes thoughtful, as if she had secrets that gave her great depth.

  It was her depiction of herself in the mirror that Willa had struggled with. Her first attempt had been to show herself as trapped and afraid, but Willa realized that was no longer who she was. The feelings of abandonment that stemmed from when she was younger were still present, but they no longer ruled her.

  So who am I?

  Not a warrior.

  Not a victim.

  Willa worked the image in the mirror until she captured what she hoped represented herself. The lines of her face were soft, but her chin was set at a proud angle. Down her chest, she made a scar that hinted at a near-deadly wound that had healed over. The woman in the mirror wasn’t ashamed of her scar.

  I’m that woman. Not perfect, but beautiful nonetheless. Scarred, but proud.

  She dropped her hands from the sculpture again. And I’m a survivor. I don’t need Lance to be okay. He hurt me, but he didn’t break me. She went back to her image of herself in the mirror and tweaked the expression in the woman’s eyes. I’m in love with a man who doesn’t love me, but there is beauty in that. My ability to love and forgive is my strength, not my weakness.

  Her cell phone rang. Since her hands were covered with clay, she didn’t answer it, but she checked the caller ID.

  Lance.

  A text came in a moment later. Call me.

  Willa shook her head and walked away from the phone. Her emotions were flying in all directions as she went back to working on her piece.

  Call me?

  Really?

  If he wants me to so much as look at him again, he’ll have to do a hell of a lot better than that.

  Back in his office, Lance stood and stretched after answering the last of his morning emails. He checked his phone for a response from Willa but found none. She still wasn’t taking his calls, acknowledging his flowers, or answering his texts. Lance wasn’t worried, though. He had a plan.

  He walked over to his office window and looked at the skyline as his thoughts flew back to his parents’ house the night before. He’d walked in with his mother on his arm and been greeted by almost every member of his immediate family. Asher, Ian, and Grant had stood beside Dale like a small army preparing for battle. Kenzi stood beside Dax, part of the group but off to one side.

  Dale looked back and forth between his wife and his youngest son. “Is everything all right?”

  Sophie had nodded and said, “Why don’t we all go into the living room and sit while we talk?”

  She led the way and soon they were all gathered around where she and Lance were seated. “Lance why don’t you tell them what you discovered?”

  Asher was the first to speak. “Dad said you’re in trouble. What’s going on, Lance?”

  “If it’s financial, I could look over your books and come up with a plan,” Grant said.

  Ever the problem solver, Ian said, “If it’s illegal, don’t say anything to anyone. Except us. Knowing exactly what you did will help us choose the best lawyer.”

  Dax stood near the door, arms folded across his chest. Present, but silent.

  Dale followed Lance’s gaze and said, “Whatever issues you two boys have, it doesn’t matter. We all need to support each other.”

  It was what his father had always said, but they were just words. The unstated expectation that they should deal with things on their own had made that sentiment unnecessary.

  With a nod, Dax confirmed his support, which was interesting since he didn’t have any idea why he’d been called there. His presence was a testament to his loyalty to the Barringtons.

  And to me.

  “Thanks for coming, Dax.” He looked around at his brothers. “Thank you all for coming, but I’m not in any kind of trouble.”

  “Bull,” Asher said harshly. “Something’s wrong. You look like shit.”

  Giving Lance another once-over, Ian asked, “Are you on drugs?”

  Their mother shook her head in reprimand. “Really, Ian? Must you always think the worst? Let him speak.”

  Lance shook his head. “Of course I’m not on drugs.”

  “Are you sick?” Grant asked looking genuinely concerned that he might be.

  “No.”

  “Is guilt keeping you up at night?” Dax asked gruffly. All eyes turned to toward Dax and he shrugged. “Willa’s not having a good week either. You know why, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lance said abruptly. It wasn’t easy to hear that Willa was unhappy and he was the cause, but he was about to change that. He liked Dax even more for the way he came to Willa’s defense.

  He’s loyal to her, too.

  You chose well, Kenzi.

  “This is about Willa?” Ian asked incredulously. “I thought the two of you were dating now.”

  “We are. We were. I messed up,” Lance answered.

  “I can’t believe you called us here for this,” Asher said to Dale.

  Dale gave Asher an authoritative look that always put him back a step. “Sit down, Asher. In fact, why don’t we all? Lance obviously wants our help.”

  Grant rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you expect us to do, Dad. This is between him and Willa.”

  “Sit,” Dale said.

  The Barrington men sat down in the couches and chairs around where Sophie and Lance sat. Kenzi encouraged Dax to sit with them.

  Asher nodded at the open love seat beside him, “Get your ass over here, Dax. You wanted to be one of us. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.”
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br />   Once everyone was seated, Sophie said, “Lance has had an epiphany.”

  Lance stood up and began to pace. The entire scene was over the top, but he thought back to the night Dax had asked the family to help him plan his proposal to Kenzi. Lance had learned early that Barringtons handled their own problems, but maybe, just maybe, that was changing. He wanted his family to feel as invested in Willa’s acceptance as they had in Kenzi’s. “I’m in love with Willa.”

  Asher’s phone rang. “It’s Emily,” he said to no one in particular before answering it. “He’s fine. Everyone is fine. Lance has temporarily lost his mind, though. The emergency was he wanted to tell us that he loves Willa.” Asher listened to whatever his wife was saying, then responded. “I know you knew that. We all knew it. The only one surprised seems to be Lance.” He listened again, then pressed a button on his phone and held it up. “Okay, you’re on video chat now.”

  Emily waved from the screen of the phone. “Lance, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there. The doctor told me to try to get more rest. You must be over-the-moon happy.”

  Not yet. “Technically, she’s still not speaking to me. That’s why I’m here. I messed things up with her the first time. I’m very close to losing her a second time. I needed some advice so I came to see Dad, but Mom is also a good sounding board.”

  Dale crossed to stand behind his wife. He bent down and kissed her cheek. She raised a hand to hold his. “When it comes to love, you spoke to the expert.”

  Sophie smiled and squeezed her husband’s hand. “A good marriage takes two. You and I have made our share of mistakes, but I hope we’ve shown our children that love and family can survive anything. I love you more today, Dale, than I did when I agreed to marry you—and I was head-over-heels smitten with you then. More than anything else, that’s what I want for our children. I want them to find someone who stands with them no matter what challenges their bond.”

  Dale’s eyes shone with emotion. “I would do it again, Sophie. Every last moment. The good. The bad. It was all worth it because you were at my side.” He looked around the room. “As I watch our children growing up and starting families of their own, I hope they do a hundred things better than we did, but one thing the same. I hope they always end each day grateful to have each other. Every one of us in this room has done something we regret, but if we work through it, we become stronger because of it.”

  For the second time that night Lance’s perception of his parents was challenged. Yes, their marriage had its flaws, yet its foundation was not only solid but had strengthened over time. That’s what he wanted for himself and Willa.

  From the phone, Emily said, “Am I the only one bawling?”

  Kenzi called out, “I’m right there with you.”

  Grant cleared his throat. “So, what are we doing now?”

  “Hang on a minute.” Lance walked out of the living room into his father’s office and returned with a white board and dry erase marker. In much the same fashion that he’d outline a timetable for work projects—with lines that jutted out to boxes where he listed possible complications along with solutions to each—he charted his relationship with Willa. He kept the details to a minimum referring only to their intimacy as the times they connected.

  He stood back, studied the diagram and said, “As you can see, I need a clear plan of action to break this pattern.”

  Dax said, “That’s quite a chart you have there, Lance.”

  Ian studied the details of it. “Why is Lexi in a box with an asterisk?”

  “That’s when she pretended to be Willa, and I didn’t realize it.”

  “Tell me you didn’t sleep with her sister,” Asher said abruptly.

  Sophie gasped. Dale’s eyes flew to Lance’s but he didn’t say anything.

  Lance erased the asterisk. “One kiss, but it was enough to screw everything up the first time.”

  Dax rubbed a finger and thumb over his eyes before looking up at the chart. “This is how you think? You’re not making this up?”

  Lance shrugged. “I can’t wing it this time. I need to look at this problem from all angles.” He added a mathematical equation that he’d toyed with mid-week. “This is my calculation of the length of time it’ll take her to forgive me for not calling her this week. I based it on how long she was angry the first time, then factored in the similarities and differences between each event. I think we should figure out this portion before I move on to the proposal.”

  Dax looked around at the other men as if gauging the likelihood that one of them would announce he was being pranked. When there was no confirmation, Dax turned his attention back to Lance. “You’re serious about all of this?”

  Kenzi laid her head on his arm. “He loves her. Don’t even pretend it wasn’t confusing for you when you realized you loved me.”

  There was a general chuckle around the room.

  Lance lowered the dry erase board and sat heavily on the arm of one of the couches. “Laugh all you want, but I can’t lose her again. I’ve been in love with her for a long time. I just couldn’t see it.”

  Ian said, “I don’t know how you missed it when it was clearly there in the subcategory of your third bulleted list of reasons you belonged together.”

  Lance glanced down at his diagram, shocked he’d missed that, only to realize that his brother had made it up.

  “Ian,” Dale said, using his son’s name in reprimand.

  Waving his hands in the air, Ian defended himself. “Dad, what do you expect? This is ridiculous.”

  With a shake of his head, Dale said, “Love humbles a man, Ian, especially while you’re working things out the way Lance is. Ask Asher and Dax.”

  “I could have used a diagram when I was trying to figure out if I’d burned Emily’s museum down,” Asher said with self-deprecating humor.

  Emily chimed in. “That was not a fun time for any of us. I thought it might be over between us right up until the moment you proposed.”

  “Falling in love is hell,” Dax confirmed.

  Kenzi raised her head and her eyebrows shot to her hairline.

  He smiled and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. “But then, if you survive the wedding planning, it’s all good.”

  With a playful elbow nudge, Kenzi said, “You wait. You’ll pay for that one.”

  The couple was momentarily lost in each other’s eyes. Lance and everyone else looked away. Lance circled back to his problem. “I screwed up. She was about to tell me she loved me, and I bolted. Then I didn’t call her. Now she’s not answering my calls.”

  “Oh, Lance,” Kenzi said. “No wonder she’s been avoiding me.”

  Emily added, “She’s been working on a sculpture at my museum every night. You should see it. It’s incredible.”

  “Have you thought about hiring her to cover for you when you’re on maternity leave?” Dax asked.

  Sophie tipped her head in question. “She’s not working at your office?”

  Lance found it amusing to watch Dax weigh being honest with pleasing his future mother-in-law. “She’s an artist at heart. She’d be happier in a museum setting.”

  “Good save,” Ian interjected softly.

  Lance turned and erased the board then picked up the marker again. Dax’s suggestion had given him an idea. “Proposing is the next logical step. And the way I see it, there are only a couple of viable places I should ask her. But first I have to get her there. While you’re all here . . .”

  There were a few groans from around the room, but no one moved to leave. He started listing places he knew Willa loved and adding pros and cons next to each. He also added the idea of showing her in some concrete fashion how important she was to him.

  Reminiscent of how his family was when they played Pictionary together, everyone started calling out suggestions. Lance paused before writing down each idea and looked around at those gathered for the single purpose of helping him. My family. This is what my friends imagine I have when I tell them I’m from a large
family. Asher bringing Emily home changed us, woke us up. Maybe things won’t go back to how they were before. Maybe good things really can last. It gave him hope, not only within his family, but within himself.

  And with Willa.

  He knew that one day soon he’d have to discuss what he’d discovered in Aruba, but he wanted Willa at his side when he did. His father wanted them to do things better than he had. Lance wanted to share his life with Willa—the best and the worst of whatever was to come. Together, they could weather any storm.

  Family and love.

  It had taken him a long time, but he finally believed in both, and with his family’s help, he’d convince Willa to do the same.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A few days later after the museum was closed, Willa and Lexi walked into the Harris Tactile Museum. After checking in with a staff member, Willa asked Lexi to don a blindfold. Her sculpture was finished and on display in the main hallway. Willa wanted her sister to experience it first through touch.

  Lexi laughed, put the blindfold on, then held her arm out for her sister to take. “Lead away. When you said you were embracing your artistic side, I had no idea how serious you were. I can’t wait to see—I mean feel what you made. It must be good if Emily is letting you showcase it.”

  Emily’s reaction had been incredible. Yes, she cried, but . . . she was very pregnant. She cried easily. Her words, though, would ring within Willa forever. “Stunning, Willa. It’s breathtaking,” Willa had nearly fallen in shock.

  Willa led her sister by the arm. “I hope you like it as much as she did. Having it included among Emily’s pieces and her mother’s makes my decision to work here that much more exciting. When I’m in this building I feel like I’m an artist.”

  “You are one. You always have been.”

  Willa hugged her sister’s arm. “In my heart, maybe, but I didn’t have the confidence to create anything. Don’t expect the sculpture to feel perfectly formed. It has some rough spots where I struggled to get it right, but it’s a piece of me, and Emily says that’s what makes it beautiful.”