An Ideal Present: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 2) by Serenity Woods

Author:Serenity Woods [Woods, Serenity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

After Charlie’s words to him, Dillon gave up any pretense of needing Summer’s pills and demanded Ophelia come home. Then he begged. Then he cried. “We need you,” he said. “I need you.”

She leaned her forehead on the glass and closed her eyes. She supposed she should have been touched, but she was tired—of his over-emotion, his manipulation, and his emotional blackmail. She loved Summer, but she wanted a couple of days to herself—was that such a terrible thing? Two days with Charlie, who was so easy, so calm.

She loved the way he thought before he acted. She adored how he was so difficult to offend. Being with Dillon was like living with a hedgehog, where every little word and gesture stuck to his prickles. Charlie was the complete opposite, as if he was made of polished wood and everything just slid right off.

It was so nice to be with someone who didn’t pick up on every little slip and store it up to turn it into a weapon that could be used against her. Beneath it all, Dillon was a good man, but he exhausted her. He took everything and gave nothing, and she wanted more.

She inhaled deeply. “I’m staying, Dillon. I’m sorry—I know it’s not what you want, but I need this. Please try and be happy for me.”

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I fucking hate it.”

“I know.”

“I want to kill him.”

She swallowed hard. He didn’t mean it—he was hurting, and there was no point in developing it into an argument. She thought of what Charlie would say, how he would keep calm and refuse to bring his emotions into it.

“Go and be with Summer,” she said. “You’re her father, and she needs you to be there for her. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

A long silence ensued. Ophelia watched the rain sliding down the windows, gradually easing. Lightning still flashed, but it was off in the distance. She fingered a sparkly bauble on the Christmas tree, turning it in her fingers.

“Okay,” he said eventually. “Don’t be late. I have an appointment at one.”

“I won’t. I’ll speak to you later. Thank you, Dillon.”

She hung up.

Leaning against the glass, she stayed there for a minute or two, fighting tears, struggling against the weight of the guilt and the fear that she was doing the wrong thing.

Then she thought of Charlie. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, remembering his tender kisses, his softly spoken Italian words, his reverent touch.

Did she feel like this because it was new and shiny like the bauble on the tree? Would it tarnish over time until she felt the same way about him that she felt about Dillon? She couldn’t know, but she was certain that Charlie would never try to manipulate her the same way her ex was. If Charlie was unsure, he would step back and try to evaluate the problem, not charge into it headlong and attempt to batter it down.

She thought of the way he’d gently taken the phone from her and completely disarmed Dillon with his calm, sensible suggestion.

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