Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

He chuckled a raspy laugh and dragged his hand over his graying facial hair. “I meant hothead, but yes, her.”

I shook my head, my laughter fading. “Carrie didn’t break my heart.”

Silence stretched between us before he spoke again. “But… someone just did.”

“How do you know that?” I questioned, leaning back on my chair.

“Father’s intuition.”

“I’ll be fine. I am fine. I’ve moved on.”

Just then, my brother walked back in the room. “Correction… moving. You’re moving on. You haven’t moved on yet.”

“Who says I haven’t moved on yet?”

He snickered. “Every turned-down girl at Ships in the last month, every excuse you’ve given us that you’re busy and can’t come to poker night, and every sad, lost puppy look on your face. You haven’t moved on from Fallon.”

I winced.

I was doing so good not thinking about her tonight.

“What’s in your hand?”

My brother took my bait in changing the subject. “Well, I thought you’d never ask.”

Just then, Dawson opened his hand, and a little velvet box was lying in his palm. A smile stretched on both my face and my father’s.

“Well… let’s see it, son.”

Dawson was cheesing like a fool. He opened the box and placed it in the center of the table. My eyes flew open. “Jesus, Dawson. That’s huge.”

He snickered. “That’s what she said.”

“That’s what who said?” My father’s eyebrows drew together.

Dawson and I both laughed and ignored him.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

My father and I exchanged looks across the table and shrugged at the same time. What did we know about jewelry and what women liked?

“Her sister said she would, so I’m hoping she’s not messing with me.”

I laughed. “Mia would be the one to mess around with something this serious, but I’m betting that Ivy will like it, bro. She’d like anything you gave her.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be. She loves you, as much as that annoys me to say, because I have no idea how someone could be that into you.”

My father coughed, and I could have sworn his eyes were teary. “I’m happy for you, son.”

I piped up. “I am, too, bro. I can’t fucking wait to throw the bachelor party.”

My father shook his head at me, and Dawson rolled his eyes. “You would be excited about that part.”

I shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? I’m a single man.”

Dawson and my father went on to talk about Dawson’s grand plan to propose, but I kept finding myself drifting to the one thought I avoided at all costs. It was exhausting, keeping up the walls in my head to keep a honey-haired woman away. It was an all-day thing. Even when I was tattooing, getting lost in the dark ink of something I’d sketched, I’d find my brain creeping to Fallon. In fact, I was sketching the other day to keep my mind busy, and when I was finished, I stared down at the cream-colored paper in disbelief. I’d sketched a woman’s face. Her nose was slender but cute, and her eyes were almond-shaped with eyebrows that were arched to perfection. The curve of her lips dipped down just a hair at the top, and the bottom one was slightly fuller than the one above. I sat back when a customer came in, placing my pencil down, and my heart halted when I realized that I hadn’t been blocking out the thought of Fallon at all.