Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

Not what someone else wanted me to love.

“Oh, Fallon. Stop looking so disappointed. Derek is an attractive, powerful man. He’s wealthy, and he’ll take good care of you. You should be begging him to propose.”

Eh. Derek was attractive, sure, and successful with his career at the same insurance firm that my father owned, and I wasn’t completely against the idea of marrying him. But our relationship over the last several months had been so… platonic. I kept hoping for something m

ore with him, and yet, I still felt as if we were awkward puzzle pieces trying desperately to fit together even though we both knew we didn’t.

I had known Derek for most of my life. His family had been to our house for countless occasions, so I knew he was a decent man. But when we’d actually gone on our first date, it was dreadful. He spent the majority of the time on his cell phone, and even though Derek was dangerously attractive with his dark features and coal-colored hair, things between us were slow moving and not at all thrilling.

I always pictured myself marrying someone who made me laugh and smile like a love-stricken fool, but up to that point, Derek had been pretty ordinary. The first time he kissed me, I had waited for that fireworks show—or at least some type of spark—but honestly, there was nothing but a little bit of nerves.

And it’s not like he and I really had the opportunity to try things out again, or dig a little deeper, because the majority of the time we were together, it was for some type of fundraising event or dinner among business colleagues—not to mention he traveled 90% of the time. He said we would have the rest of our lives to get to know each other, and apparently, I was the only one who saw that as strange.

I was about to be engaged to someone whom I didn’t truly know or love, and whom I’d only been physical with a handful of times.

But… I was so sick and tired of fighting my parents and failing at pleasing them. It was honestly exhausting. I was the black sheep of the family. Half of me had accepted the fact that I would never be what they wanted, but then the other half just kept on trying – hence marrying Derek. It was like I had this burning desire inside to please my parents for once in my life.

My old college roommate once told me, after taking a psychology class (she acted as if she and Sigmund Freud were actual relatives), that I was desperate for attention and praise. She’d said it was only natural for me to want to please my parents every chance I got because of the lack of compassion and love I’d had as a young child. Blah, blah, blah.

“Mom, Derek and I haven’t really had the time to get to know each other.” Irritation and resentment were both edging their way up my body, making their home in my heart, but I was quickly trying to shove the feelings down. It didn’t work, though, because I still mumbled under my breath, “I should have just eloped in college.”

Mallory laughed, rolling her eyes in the process. My eyes darted to her, then to Katie, who was biting her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact.

“What’s funny?” I asked, feeling the blood boil below my skin.

“Samuel has told me about your past boyfriends. I agree with your mother; you should be thrilled that Derek wants to wed you.”

Pause.

Were we in the freaking Renaissance? When did we jump from the 21st century back to the Middle Ages? I should be thrilled Derek wants to “wed” me? Are you sure you want to do this, Fallon? Why was I so eager to please my parents again? See, here I go again; one second accepting my fate, and the next, pissed beyond belief that I was being forced into something I wasn’t sure I wanted.

I felt my face firing up. I bet I looked like an Angry Bird whose head was seconds from popping off.

My mother’s voice notched up another octave. “Fallon, you and Derek will have plenty of time to get to know each other. You’ll get to go on a honeymoon and spend a lot of time together. This is just how our lifestyle works. You see how often your father is home. The company is just demanding, sweetie.” She gently squeezed my hand from across the table. “And… I thought you were ready for this. You know that you and Derek are a good match. You both come from the best families, you both have good genes, and you were made for this sort of thing. I raised you to follow in my footsteps, and you’ve done an amazing job with planning the last few events for the company. I’ve taught you well, and Derek can see that. Why else do you think he’s so eager to marry you? He doesn’t want someone else to sweep you up!” I looked at my mother when a giggle fell out of her mouth. I was truly surprised that she was paying me a compliment, like she was actually proud of me or something. But then I saw her expression change from adoring to cold, so I counted down in my head: 3, 2, 1, blast off! “We only let you go off to college so you’d get rid of that wild streak you’ve always had.”

And there it was, my friends. That lovely reminder that I wasn’t what my parents wanted. She was reminding me of just how disappointing it was that I wasn’t an exact replica of her. Sure, I knew how to plan a fundraising event or some stupid party the company wanted to throw—I’ve only been surrounded by it for the last twenty-three years of my life—but that was really where the similarities ended between the two of us.

My mother smiled. “Plus… I always had a hunch that Derek just knew.”

My nostrils flared, and the crepes that I’d had Lupe, our cook, whip me up earlier were threatening to come up and splatter all over the stupid bridal magazines. “Knew what?”

Dimples formed on my mother’s highlighted cheeks. “Knew that he wanted to marry you someday. I’ve watched him watch you from afar. I knew it was only a matter of time before we could somehow push you two closer and that you’d end up together.”

Mallory cooed, “Awww,” and Katie barely managed a smile.

My mother continued. “You know what they say: ‘When you know, you know.’”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and protest, but only because I knew it would override her happy pill, and I didn’t really feel like smelling the smoke of the hidden cigarette I knew she’d light up the second she thought no one was around. “Oh, yeah… when you know, you know.” I repeated, but I was solely talking about something else.

When you know you’re going to lead an extremely mundane life because you have this insane desire to please your parents and stop being the major disappointment in their life…then yeah, when you know, you know.

???

Shortly after I visualized myself picking up the pair of scissors that laid so innocently by the 27th magazine that my mother had flipped through and then ramming the shiny, sharp edges into my eye, I left my parents’ 10,000-square-foot house and walked the thirty yards over to the guesthouse, which was where I lived… that was, until I was “wedded.”

The guesthouse was small and tidy but still expansive with how I’d designed the interior. I’d always had this undeniable love for interior design, and when my parents agreed to let me refurnish the guesthouse and make it how I wanted, I was in heaven. I’d pulled out my old sketchbook and started working right away. I wanted the inside to be inviting, yet refreshing. I embraced the natural light and went with an innovative look. All the walls were painted a light beige, and pairing that with the white-painted exposed beams up above my head, it had really opened up the room and made it feel much bigger than it actually was.

The kitchen was tucked away in the corner, with glass cabinets that held the fine china that my mother insisted I needed. (What twenty-three-year-old needed fine china?) And then off to the left was my small living room with a plush white couch, antique thrift-store chair (don’t tell my mother—she thought it was true vintage), and a small, round coffee table with wrought-iron legs and an oak top.