Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill Series Book 2) Read online

  Falling for Fallon

  Copyright © 2019 S.J. Sylvis

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This work is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published: S.J. Sylvis 2019

  [email protected]

  Cover Design: S.J. Sylvis

  Editing: Jenn Lockwood Editing

  Falling for Fallon

  by S.J. Sylvis

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Note

  Keep in touch!

  Chapter One

  Fallon

  Lilac, lavender, mauve, fuchsia, maroon, and the list went on for the most tedious conversation I had ever had the pleasure of hearing…all concerning floral arrangements.

  Floral arrangements for my upcoming wedding.

  Floral arrangements for my upcoming wedding that didn’t even have a set date because, technically, I wasn’t engaged.

  Wasn’t that a thing? Having a real fiancé before you could actually get married? I was pretty sure that was a thing.

  But apparently not in my family. Not for Fallon, who just couldn’t seem to pick the “right” guy. Not after bringing Alex home from our prestigious private school. Alex with the shitty Honda Accord for a way of transportation (the horror!). And then Jax, the guy with the gauged ears. Oh, and let’s not forget about my ex, Jake, who was the star athlete of our mighty D1 college baseball team. No, not Jake… he got into the university on a scholarship, meaning he had no “real” business being tied to our family. Instead, after being made painfully aware that I couldn’t decipher between trash and class, I was hauled off like a mail-ordered bride from Korea to marry someone worthy…someone who was in our circle. I wasn’t even Korean. I had honey-colored hair, a skinny button nose, piercing aqua-colored wide eyes, and slightly pink-tinted cheeks that had become layered with small freckles after spending spring break in the Caribbean.

  There wasn’t even the slightest bit of Korean that ran through my veins. Nope.

  Mallory stared into my eyes like a doe-eyed freak. “Oooh, what about baby blue? They’d go perfect with your eyes, Fallon.”

  “What kind of flower is baby blue?” I asked, batting my eyelashes rapidly while placing my hand underneath my chin—the chin that was placed right below my you’re-a-freaking-airhead smile.

  I, of course, knew which flower was baby blue—or at least in the blue hemisphere. I knew a lot about flowers and different hues due to my “fruitless” interest in interior design. In fact, I’d even taken one or two design courses during college. “Flowers are a great start to making a room feel fresh and welcoming.” That, my friends, came straight from Professor Brady’s mouth. I doubted that Bimbo One (aka Mallory, my older brother Samuel’s wife) knew what kind of flower was blue. I wasn’t even sure she knew her colors.

  “Hmm…” Mallory lifted her French-manicured finger and tapped her full, Botoxed lips. “I don’t know… are there any blue flowers? We can get fake ones, I suppose.”

  My mother shrieked. “Absolutely not! Fallon will not have fake flowers at her wedding, Mallory! Goodness! Were you raised in a barn?”

  The devil inside of me stirred. “Maybe I should get married in a barn.” Seeing as I’m kind of being sold like cattle.

  My mother’s sharp blue eyes drove into me. Her disturbed expression satisfied me more than it should have. “I’m kidding, Mother. Buuuttt maybe I should get engaged first, before we start making these plans.”

  A gentle sigh escaped her lips while she flipped through the hundreds of bridal magazines splayed out on the glass table in the middle of the dining area. I could see my bare toes wiggling through the crystal, warning me to keep my mouth shut so I didn’t further upset her. I’d already seen her slip one of her happy pills that morning, after my father had skipped off to work. He was extra adoring to her right before he’d whooshed out the door, looking exceptionally snazzy in his navy Canali suit. My father feigning sweetness to my mother wasn’t a rare sight, but it wasn’t a good one either. It probably just meant that he was in the doghouse for who knows what reason.

  My mother patted my arm, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s only a matter of time, Fallon. Derek has already asked your father for permission.” She smiled widely, showing off her expensive, yet worthless, veneers. “Like your father would say no!” She laughed, as did Mallory and Katie, my other sister-in-law.

  See, the thing about Derek was, he wasn’t marrying me because he loved me. That wasn’t how things worked in either of our families. Actually, that wasn’t how things worked with the majority of families we associated ourselves with. There were certain surnames that we were to be tied to: those with money and who were considered high-class. There was the working class, the middle class, the upper class, and then us. My family, and Derek’s, had excessive amounts of money, and if you asked my opinion, the only thing that did was turn people ugly.

  I had my chance to find someone worthy of me, according to my parents, but I failed. I had brought home so many boyfriends in the past that it was exhausting. And sadly, I didn’t even love any of them. It was a close call with Jax. He had that whole bad-boy thing going for him with his piercings and smug smile, but my father almost had an aneurysm when Jax had told him he wasn’t going to college. My father’s face turned to stone. I almost flicked a pea toward him at the dinner table just to see how far it’d travel after it bounced off.

  Side note: I didn’t end up throwing the pea.

  But my father did throw Jax out of our house and forbid me to ever date “someone like him” again.

  After that, I truly did try to find someone of worth in college. I wanted the best of both worlds. I wanted to please my parents so badly, but I wanted to please me, too. I wanted things that girls in my world didn’t usually want. I wasn’t the type of girl to become dazzled by sparkly diamonds or Prada purses. I wasn’t the type of girl who looked forward to wearing fancy ball gowns while attending galas or her husband’s fundraising events that she’d spent weeks planning.

  I wanted to spend my time doing what I loved.

  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.

  I walked past the bar stools pulled up to the end of my kitchen counter and went into my bedroom. I flopped down on my bed, my fluffy down comforter almost swallowing up my tiny, 5’3” frame completely. I almost wished my bed was like a vacuum that would suck me inside and hide me from everyone and everything. I wanted to hide from all my worries, all my doubts, and—most of all—I wanted to hide from all the looming thoughts of being the world’s worst daughter.

  Why was I such a people pleaser? I hated making people feel bad. I hated looking at my parents’ faces when they were disappointed in me. It made me feel terrible, and I’d simmer on it for days. I’ll still never get over the look on their faces when I told them I was going to college for interior design. My brother, Samuel, laughed at the dinner table and mumbled, “What? Are you going to redesign
your house every other day when you get bored? That’s all a design degree will be good for.” Then he cackled so hard he cried. My mother looked like she saw a ghost, especially after I said that I, Fallon Addington, wanted to work for a living. My father’s entire body shot back against his chair. He was completely confused with my choice. I argued and then countered, “Fine. I just won’t go to college, considering you two don’t want me to use my brain anyway.”

  Unfortunately, I lost the battle. It was either I stay at home and live in the guesthouse, where they would probably pimp me out to their friends’ sons (much like they did with Derek), or I could go to college for something “worth going for” and get away for four years.

  I obviously chose the latter.

  I still took some interior design classes, though, and sketched when I had time. I even created a sort of portfolio of my sketches, although I knew I’d probably never get the chance to use it. Who had time to work when you were married to some hotshot like Derek who would expect you to plan his work parties and attend events with him?

  Like I’d said before, I had known Derek for a long, long time. He came over with his family during holiday parties and went to the same events I was dragged to because our father’s worked at the same insurance firm. He never really paid me much attention until our parents had set us up on a date. I had sometimes caught him gazing at me, but then he’d turn his head and start talking to some overly beautiful blonde that no doubt worked in his office. He was the type of man that took what he wanted and didn’t care who got hurt in the process. I would know; I had observed him many, many times. He used his good looks to charm people—not just women, either. That’s exactly why he was good at his job. That was why he’d become so successful at such a young age.

  It made me wonder why he was settling for me, though. He always had girls constantly hanging off his arm, sneaking them through whatever event’s large back doors, only to come back minutes later, her looking disheveled and him looking cool as a cucumber. It also made me wonder why, in all the time we’d been together in the last few months, he had only ever kissed me.