A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime: A Lancaster Prep Novel

“NO.” I slide out of the booth and stand, searching the diner for my father, remembering that he’s outside. “No, no, no. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Darling. Sit down.” Her voice is firm, her gaze pleading. “We need to talk this through before he comes back.”

I plop on the edge of the booth seat, gripping the table in front of me with achingly cold fingers. I’m numb. Humiliated.

Infuriated.

“Your father has been too busy to go in search of it. And he’s not going to spend that kind of money on a piece right now, no matter how badly you want it. That piece came from Crew Lancaster. And it makes all the sense in the world, don’t you see? He’s been sending you Chanel lipsticks for a week. All leading up to the grand finale. A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime, indeed. The boy is a genius.”

Oh God. She’s right. I know she is. Why didn’t I see it? Because my father interfered and made his claim so quickly? Did I want to believe he would do that for me so badly that I forgot how it didn’t necessarily make sense? Am I that desperate for my father’s love and approval?

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I croak, swallowing down the nausea that threatens.

She scoots my water glass closer to me and I grab it, gulping down half of it in seconds.

“He knows how upset you are with him, and I’ve been upset with him too, with his treatment of you. His treatment of me. I ignored it for far too long and allowed him to spy on you and treat you like an incapable child rather than the smart young woman you’ve become, but no more. You have a good head on your shoulders. Your father doesn’t need to constantly monitor what you want to do. You can make your own decisions,” Mom says with a finality I’ve never heard before.

“You really think so?” My voice is small, my emotions chaotic.

She nods, reaching out to rest her hand over mine. “You believe your father can do no wrong, but he has his faults. We all do. He’s human, just like the rest of us. I didn’t want to cause a scene here, or in front of you, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. Allowing him to take credit for a gift he didn’t give you is—wrong. I don’t understand why he’s lying, but he is, Wren. And it’s all going to catch up to him.”

My chest hurts at his deceit. He had to know he would get caught. “Do you think he took credit for the gift to make me happy? So I wouldn’t be mad at him anymore?”

“That’s not a good enough reason, but perhaps? He has to know you would find out the truth quickly. Crew will mention it to you—he’ll want the credit he deserves. I’m surprised you haven’t heard from him yet, asking what you thought of your gift.”

I sag against the booth. “I left my phone in my bedroom. Daddy rushed me out of there.”

“I’m sure he did,” she retorts, shaking her head. “Ah, here he comes now. Pretend you don’t know. We can discuss this at home.”

I try to keep my expression neutral, but it’s hard for me to lie, especially when I’m face to face with the person I’m lying to.

My father slides back into the booth, a smile on his face like he’s never done a single wrong thing in his life.

How can he lie to me? I can’t take it.

I can’t.

“Are you okay, Wren?” he asks, frowning. “You seem upset.”

“When did you purchase it?”

“Purchase what?”

Oh, he’s playing dumb. He already looks guilty.

“The piece. A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime. When did you buy it? How did you find it?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, waiting.

“I bought it…recently.”

“From who?”

“The previous owner.”

Duh. “And where do they live? How did you find it?”

He chuckles, though he sounds nervous. “Well, we do have connections in the art world, your mother and me.”

“I had nothing to do with this,” Mom adds, earning a stern look from him.

“Tell me how you found it,” I demand.

“Like I said. I have connections. I did a little digging and made a few calls.” He’s starting to sweat. I see it dotting his hairline.

“Perhaps Veronica assisted you?” Mom asks, her voice dripping with disgust. “I know how helpful she is.”

“Leave her out of this,” he snaps, his cheeks turning red.

Veronica. The new assistant. Maybe there’s more there than I know?

“How much did you pay for it?” I ask him.

“Why are you both ganging up on me? And it’s rude to ask how much the piece was, Wren. It was a gift,” he says, chastising me. He’s out of the booth and on his feet in seconds. “Let’s go.”

“But—”

“We’re leaving,” he interrupts before he turns and exits the diner.

Mom and I share a look. “It’s going to be all right,” she tells me. “We can finish this conversation at home.”

My stomach sinks. I wish I didn’t need to have this conversation at all.

I’m silent the entire walk back to the apartment, as is my father. Even my mother. We’re all quiet, the mood somber.

Completely ruined.

How could he lie to me like that? How? I don’t understand. I don’t know if I ever will. He gets angry at me for my perceived betrayals, and then does the same exact thing and expects us to all accept his lies.

He can’t have it both ways.

We’re approaching our building when I notice someone standing near the entrance. A very familiar someone, clad in a black coat and jeans, that beanie he always wears covering his hair. He turns to face us and my heart soars.

It’s Crew.

Our eyes connect and the thunderous look on his face fills me with worry, though I realize quickly his anger has nothing to do with me.

And everything to do with my father.

“Oh dear,” I hear mother say when she spots Crew.

My father, of course, is completely oblivious.

I break away from my parents and run to Crew, a soft cry falling from my lips when he yanks me into his arms and cradles me close. I press my face to his chest, inhaling his familiar, delicious scent, hating what’s about to happen, but knowing it has to happen just the same.

“Birdy.” He runs his hand over my hair. “We need to talk.”

Slowly, I pull away so I can look into his eyes. “I know.”

“Crew,” my mother calls as they approach. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

I turn, staying in Crew’s embrace and my father is watching us, all the color draining from his face when he sees who I’m standing with.

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Beaumont.” Crew releases his hold on me to go to my mother, shaking her hand.

My father doesn’t say a word, but his grim expression is telling. He has to know he’s been caught.

“Sir.” Crew nods toward him, showing respect, though he probably doesn’t deserve it. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Oh, he’s being way too polite.

“You didn’t buy that piece for me,” I throw at my father, unable to contain myself. “I know you didn’t.”

His expression turns indignant. “Are you calling me a liar?”

I can’t believe he’s still sticking to his story, especially in front of Crew.

“Harvey, please. Give it up. You’ve been caught.” Her tone is weary. She looks tired, and it makes me realize she’s been putting up with him for a long time.

And she might be finally over it.

Crew turns to me, his expression earnest. “I’m the one who bought it for you, Wren. I figured it would all come together, with me sending you the Chanel lipsticks all week? Since that’s what the artist used in the piece.”

“I should’ve known.” I am in complete disbelief that he did this for me. All for me. Yet it also makes complete sense. The lipsticks. The camera. How he let me kiss him and cover his skin with my lip prints, never complaining. Deep down, I always sensed he liked it.

He would do anything for me.

Everything.

“Who the hell do you think you are, buying my daughter such an expensive piece of artwork? She doesn’t even know you, and here you come along, always sending her things. Showing off and trying to buy her with extravagant gifts. It’s pathetic.” My father’s face is beet red. I think this is the maddest I’ve ever seen him.

“I’m pathetic? At least I’m not some dried up old man trying to hold onto his daughter by lying to her when controlling her no longer works,” Crew retorts.

I touch Crew’s arm, hating how cruel he sounded just now, but I guess he’s only speaking the truth.

And sometimes, the truth hurts.

“You’re really going to fall for this boy, Pumpkin? You know what the Lancasters are like. Heartless. Cruel. He will toss you aside when he grows tired of you, just watch,” Daddy says, his gaze pleading. His words are like a punch to the stomach, as if I’m not worthy to keep Crew’s attention. That my father thinks so little of me. And Crew. “I only want the best for you, Wren. I’m trying to protect you from him.”

My heart sinks, the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. That he would say such awful things about Crew when he doesn’t even know him, just…

Hurts.

“Listen to me, Wren. You are the most important thing in my world. I would never purposely try to upset you. You know this.” Daddy takes a step forward, his gaze landing on where Crew’s hand rests on my hip when he pulls me into him, his touch possessive. A claiming, like it always is.

It has more meaning now, though. He’s sending an unspoken message to my father. I don’t belong to him anymore.

“You lied,” I tell my father. “You claimed a gift that you never actually gave me. You tried to take credit for something you had nothing to do with.”

“I was losing you!” The words explode from my father’s lips, shocking me. “You were slipping right out of my fingers and there was nothing I could do about it. I don’t want to lose you to—him.”

“You lied. To. Me.” I shake my head once when he takes a step toward me and he goes still. If he touches me, I don’t know what I might do. Scream? Push him away? Kick him in the shins? “After all this time, you were supposedly worrying about me. Tracking me. Spying on me via my phone. Telling me what I can and cannot do. Claiming you can’t trust me over something I did almost six years ago, when all along, I’m the one who shouldn’t trust you!”

My breaths are coming fast and I’m dizzy, the anger consuming me so strongly I can barely think straight. I know we’re most likely making a scene out in front of our apartment building, but I don’t care. The truth needs to be told.

My father needs to know how I really feel.

“You’re right.”

I gape at him, shocked he would admit his fault so quickly.

“It was wrong, and I’m sorry,” he continues, and at least he’s owning up to his lie.

But it’s a little too late.

I don’t have the strength to tell him that though. I’m too overcome with emotion. Crew holds me close, making me feel safe. He doesn’t cling too tightly, ever. He gives me the freedom I need, and he respects my decisions. My thoughts. My body. All of me.

Every single bit.

“You’re breaking my heart,” my father croaks, tears shining in his eyes. Any other day, seeing him like this would destroy me. But not today. “I’ve always been your hero, Pumpkin. The one you come to when you need help. Don’t ever forget that.”

“You don’t have to be her hero anymore,” Crew says, tugging me even closer to him. “That’s my job now.”

The pain on my father’s face is unmistakable. He actually flinches, his gaze narrowing into slits as he studies us.

“You’ve destroyed my family,” he accuses Crew.

“No, Harvey.” My mother steps forward, her eyes blazing with anger. “You did that all on your own.”

His shoulders sag and he hangs his head.

Just before he turns around and leaves.

The moment the three of us enter the apartment, Mom marches over to the discarded box where we left it, digging through the mess until she’s clutching a tiny white envelope between her fingers, no doubt with a card waiting inside. “For you,” she says, bringing it to me.

I take the envelope from her and glance over at Crew, who’s watching me carefully.

“Open it,” he urges.

With trembling fingers, I tear into the envelope and pull out the card.

An early birthday present for my Birdy. A million kisses in your lifetime, from me to you.

Love,

Crew

I clutch the card to my chest, completely overwhelmed with emotion. The tears flow freely, streaming down my cheeks and I blink hard to clear my blurry vision as I stare at Crew.

“I love it,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

He touches my cheek, his fingers drifting down to trace along my jaw. “You’re welcome.”

Emotion swirls between us, seeming to fill the entire room as we continue staring at each other.

My mother clears her throat, drawing our attention. “Wren. Why don’t you take Crew to your room and show the piece to him.”

I turn to look at her. “That’s okay with you?”

Her smile is small. “Of course. I trust you, darling.”

I go to her, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing tight. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Go,” she whispers, gently pushing me from her arms. “Show him.”

She knows how much this means to me. This moment. This piece.

And Crew.

“I love you,” I whisper to her before I go to Crew and take his hand, leading him down the hall and to my room. He follows me without a word, but the moment I pull him inside and shut the door, he’s on me, pressing my body against the wall, his arms wrapped tight around my waist.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, raining kisses all over my face. “That I had to show up and confront your father like that, but I couldn’t let him take credit for my gift for you.”

“It’s okay.” I revel in the softness of his lips, the sincerity in his voice, and the careful way he’s holding me. “I’m glad you came. I’m just sorry I didn’t figure it all out sooner. My mom had to tell me.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. Really, Birdy. You wanted to believe he would do that for you.” He leans back, studying my face. “Are you all right?”

“It hurts, how little respect my father has for me,” I whisper, my throat raw, my eyes burning.

“I wish I could take away your pain,” he says, and I can’t help it.

I stare at him in disbelief, wondering where the cruel, brooding Crew went. He’s been replaced with this sweet, sexy, thoughtful man who only wants to take care of me, and…

I love it.

I love him.

I do. I’m in love with him.

“I’m just glad you’re here.” I glance over at the piece leaning against my wall, and he does the same. “I love it so much.”

I love him so much, but how do I tell him that?

It’s scary, how strongly I feel about him. Does he feel the same way about me?

“I knew you would.” He kisses my temple and I lean into him.

I should’ve known Crew gave it to me. All the clues were right there, staring me in the face, and I was so blinded by the idea of my father wanting to earn back my trust and forgiveness, I went along with his lie.

But my eyes are open now. Thanks to my mother. I would’ve found out eventually, and I still can’t believe I didn’t see it, but now I know.

Crew was the one who went in search of it and found it, and God knows what he paid for it, but he gave that piece to me because he wanted to see me happy. He said that to me, only yesterday, at the Chanel store.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispers, and I return my gaze to him.

“I still can’t believe you did this.”

He hesitates, frowning. “It’s what you wanted, right?”

A sob escapes me and I cover my mouth, nodding as yet more tears spill.

Crew presses my head against his chest, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart. “Aw Birdy, don’t cry.”

“I’m fine. I’m perfect.” And I’m still crying. This day has been so completely overwhelming. Good. Bad.

Wonderful.

“I don’t like it when you cry.” Crew’s voice is strained. “The piece was supposed to make you happy.”

“You make me happy,” I tell him, pulling away slightly so I can stare at his handsome face. “I can’t believe you would do this for me.”

His voice lowers, his expression gravely serious. “I would do anything for you, Wren. Just to see you smile. Hear you laugh. Remember what I told you?”

I nod, sniffing loudly.

“Instead, you’re crying like I killed your cat.”

“I don’t even have a cat,” I mumble, making him smile.

“Soon you’ll have two pussies,” he says, referring to the painting I bought at the gallery that day, when he followed me. Took me to lunch.

Kissed me in the back seat of his private car.

I laugh. Cough. Sniff. I’m a mess. “You’re right. I will.”

We’re quiet for a moment and I eventually disentangle myself from his arms to grab a tissue, wiping the tears from my face.

“I love the note you wrote me,” I say.

God, that note. Who knew Crew Lancaster could be such a romantic? I didn’t realize he had it in him.

But that’s what he’s been doing. Romancing me for the last couple of weeks. Making me feel special. As if he thinks I’m special. That he cares for me. Maybe he even loves me.

I think he does.

I really, really do.

“I’ve been on the hunt for it since you told me about it,” he admits.

I’m gaping at him. “You hated me then.”

“I did not,” he retorts.

I laugh, all the sadness leaving me at hearing him get all growly and grumpy. “You found it all on your own?”

“Actually, Grant helped me locate the owner.” He smiles. Shakes his head. “He’s such a dick.”

“The previous owner?”

“No, my big brother. He put me through some shit while we were trying to get it. But all I cared about in the end was owning it, and now it’s yours.”

“It’s such an extravagant gift,” I murmur, my gaze returning to the piece, drinking in all of those kisses on the canvas.

“You gave me something you can never give anyone else, and I wanted to do the same for you,” he admits, his voice low.

Oh God. When he says stuff like that, I don’t know what to do, or how to react.

Now I really want to jump him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, smiling at him when he enfolds me back into his arms. “I’ll cherish it forever.”

“Just like I’ll cherish you.” He doesn’t add the word forever, but I think I know what he means.

A realization hits me and I glance up at him. “Weren’t you supposed to go to your uncle’s house today?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I came back when I got your text.”

“What?”

“When you sent me that text and it said your dad got you that piece, there was no way I could spend Christmas Eve with my family while your dad was lying to your face.” His expression is fierce. “I had to tell you the truth. In person.”

Rising up, I press my mouth to his, kissing him with everything I’ve got. His lips part and I tangle my tongue with his, until his hands are roaming and I’m whimpering, shoving him away from me.

“We can’t get carried away,” I say, breathless.

His grin is devastating. “Always my good girl.”

My cheeks go warm. “Stop. We’ll take things too far and you know it. I don’t want to break my mom’s trust.”

He runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a harsh breath. “Let’s go and hang out with her then.”

I frown. “You want to hang out with my mother?”

“Sure. We need to get to know each other. And I get the feeling she approves of me. I mean, look what I got you. Pretty impressive.”

Joy flows through my veins and I laugh.

“You don’t mind if I hang out with you and your mom, right?” He raises a brow.

“I want you to,” I whisper, smiling.

“Tomorrow afternoon, you want to come over to my place? It’ll just be me and my parents and brothers. Charlotte won’t be there, which is too bad. I really want you to meet her.”

The tears threaten yet again. He wants me to be with his family. And he wants to spend time with my mother. Oh God, this is serious. “I want to meet her too.”

Of course, it’s serious. He bought a painting that cost him well over five hundred thousand dollars. Maybe even a million. I know he’s a Lancaster and that is probably like, twenty dollars to him, but still.

What he’s done for me is just…no one has ever made me feel so special.

So loved.

“Thank you again for my gift,” I say again, hating how meaningless my words feel. “I absolutely love it.”

“You’re welcome.” The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before, and I wish I could take a photo so I’d have it forever. “Happy Birthday, Birdy.”