Page 52 of The Malibu Secret

"Hey, dickhead," Roman snaps, "mock all you want, but Lilith read me like an open book with those cards. My wife sees things others don't."

When Silas opens his mouth to protest, Roman's expression shifts. One moment he's our brother—the next, he's that other Roman, the one who once broke a guy's wrist for keying his car. His face hardens like concrete setting, and the temperature around him seems to drop ten degrees. The wedding band on his finger catches the light as his hand tightens into a fist on the table. We all know the unspoken rule: Lilith is sacred ground. Question her beliefs, her choices, her anything—and you'll face that arctic stare that makes even Silas, six-foot-three and built like a linebacker, suddenly find something fascinating to study in his beer glass.

Silas retreats. No surprise there. Nobody wants to tangle with Roman, who's carried the family reputation for throwing fists since we were kids. Even now, with medical degrees and designer suits between us, if you asked any Kensington which brother you least wanted to piss off, Roman's name would come out first every time.

Silas shoots Roman a look. "Tell me you're not about to torpedo things with Willow over Tally."

I clear my throat, fingers tightening around the sake bottle. The bottle feels warm against my palm. If Tally walked through that door right now and said she wanted me—really wanted me—I'd probably trip over myself getting to her. But every time I think I see a crack in her armor, she seals it back up twice as thick. Sure, she's made comments about Willow, little digs that betray something beneath the surface. But that's not the same as being ready for us. For this.

The tattoos on Tally's skin tell stories, but the ones beneath run deeper. I understand why she guards herself—why wouldn't she, with her past? Yet understanding doesn't bridge the gap between us. Her walls make sense, but they still stand between what we could be. But I've spent enough time waiting. When I met her, something shifted in me—like I could finally breathe after drowning in what happened with Alecia and Stephanie.

I want Sunday mornings with pancakes and bedtime stories. Brinley needs that too—a home where the foundation doesn't shift. And Willow... she'll give my daughter something steady to hold onto, someone whose kindness won't disappear overnight.

I shake my head. "No way. Willow's the one." The words come out hollow, like I'm trying to convince myself more than them.

Roman narrows his eyes. "Cam, I'm getting weird vibes here." He leans forward, elbows on knees. "Call it intuition or whatever, but you don't sound like a guy who believes what he's saying."

Silas scoffs, shooting Roman a look. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Ever since you married that crystal ball lady, everything's 'cosmic vibrations' and 'aura readings.' Try using logic for once." He shifts toward me, one eyebrow cocked. "What's your take on this, Cameron? Your actual take?"

Roman's jaw tightens. “Lilith’s not a crystal ball lady. She's trained in tarot interpretation and energy work. Show some fucking respect."

Silas knocks back more sake, then sets down his cup with a sigh. "My bad. Tarot interpreter." His attention swings back to me. "But seriously, Cam. What's your brain telling you?"

I exhale slowly. "The logical choice is Willow. She's perfect on paper—we speak the same medical language, she's got a heart of gold, Brinley adores her, and she's gorgeous. We've walked the same paths, held the same dying hands. And both of us know what it’s like to lose the center of our world - she lost her husband, I lost my wife and daughter. So, we know each other’s pain."

I don't mention that despite the attraction—which is definitely there—we haven't slept together. They'd never understand why: every time I get close, Tally's face flashes in my mind like I'm betraying her somehow. It's absurd, I know. But when Willow kisses me, I respond. The chemistry isn't our problem.

“So, there you go,” Silas says. “You try to make a list of pros and cons, and if you make a list of the pros with Willow, you’ll have a shit ton. Do the same list for Tally, and it’s all cons, man. All cons.”

I nod, but something twists in my gut. If Tally's so wrong for me, why does everything about her feel so right?

But I know one thing - I need something solid to believe in. Tally's given me nothing—not a single foothold to climb toward her. She won't even step out of her own way long enough to let me in. Meanwhile, Willow keeps painting this future for us. "I'm falling for you," she says. "I can see forever with you." Those words, right out in the open.

Does Tally love me? Hell if I know. She's never said it, never shown it. That night at the chalet, when everything between us felt so real, so raw—I let those three words slip out. Couldn't hold them back. And what did she do? Pretended not to hear me. Just kept moving like I hadn't laid my heart bare between us. And I’ve told her I love her several more times since then, and she’s always played deaf when I say those words. If that's not my answer right there, what is? When someone can't even acknowledge your love, they've already given you their response.

Roman leans in, lowering his voice. "Look, Cam. You need to understand something about Silas. He's got skin in this game with you and Willow. He played matchmaker, and Willow's in his inner circle. If things crash and burn, he's the one who'll catch hell from her, not to mention looking like a complete idiot. And you know how Silas hates being wrong about anything." He taps his finger on the table. "Just... filter whatever advice he gives you, alright?"

Silas narrows his eyes at Roman. "Shut the fuck up, bro." He rolls his eyes. "You think I'd steer Cameron toward a lifetime of misery just to avoid admitting I'm wrong? Listen, logic beats instinct every time. Period. Your brain's the reliable one here." He makes a dismissive gesture. "Look at the facts—one woman keeps pushing Cameron away while the other is all in. And bonus, she actually shares his interests." He jabs his chopsticks in my direction. "Trust me on this—being able to talk until sunrise about shit you both care about? That's the foundation. Not whatever primal thing you had going with Tally."

Guy's got a point. I give in with a smile and pull out the ring for my brothers to inspect. The princess cut diamond catches the light, its platinum setting gleaming. Nothing like Max's extravagant pink diamond that cost him millions, or Roman's rare blue stone he hunted down for Lilith. My brothers and their damn colored diamonds. Me? I went classic. Simple. And yeah, I didn't agonize over catalogs for months or whatever, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I just... didn't want to make it complicated. That's all.

I sigh. Who am I fooling? For Tally, I wouldn't just walk into a jewelry store and point at something behind glass. I'd lose sleep sketching designs. I'd corner Celeste and Olivia for intel on what would make her eyes light up. Not just any stone would do—I'd need something as complex as she is. I've actually pictured it: a natural black diamond with hidden fire inside, revealing different colors every time she moves her hand. Pure Tally—darkness with unexpected brilliance underneath. God help me, I've already researched suppliers and bookmarked designs that might be worthy of her finger. That's how far gone I am.

Roman and Silas look at the ring, and Roman looks back at me. “Pretty,” he says and then raises an eyebrow. He knows that this generic ring means I’m just not really feeling this. Silas is right about one thing - Lilith has changed him. He’s much more sensitive now, much more likely to see what’s under the hood.

Silas, on the other hand, beams at the ring and nods.

"Now that's what I call an engagement ring. Flawless clarity, platinum setting, princess cut." He nods approvingly. "Knocked it out of the park, Cam." Leave it to our resident gemologist to recognize a six-figure stone when he sees one. In his mind, that price tag equals commitment.

Roman's eyes narrow, reading me like a book he'd rather not finish. "Cam," he says, shaking his head slightly, "just be true to yourself, alright? Whatever you decide, we've got your back. I just want to make sure it's what you actually want."

I swallow hard and take a sip of sake. “It’s what I really want.”

Roman shakes his head, but Silas claps a hand on my shoulder. "Time to make it official and bring Willow into the fold! Let's have Asher handle the engagement bash—you know what he's like when he gets his hands on party planning."

I nod. "Asher's the man for the job. Once I get that 'yes,' I'm handing him the reins. Between my sports medicine fellowship kicking off and everything else, wedding planning's the last thing I've got bandwidth for. Engagement party, venue hunting—all that stuff. Asher can work his magic."

After dinner, Silas heads out while Roman and I hang back in front of the restaurant. "I can tell something's up," he says, crossing his arms. "Either you tell me what's going on, or I'm asking Lilith. And we both know once she gets her cards involved, there's nowhere to hide. Your choice—talk to me now or face the tarot inquisition."