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When Shep leaned away, he cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder. “Thank you for that. Now go sit before Emma comes out and murders you.” He moved toward the minster who had married Chase and Harper, standing off to the side.
Nash felt the gazes of everyone there. Harper gave him a frown as he passed her, and Chase gave him a glare. Obviously, Shep wasn’t the only one who was annoyed that he was late. He seemed to be in tip-top performance for pissing everyone off today. But then his gaze swept to the empty seat next to Chase, and to the person who sat beside that empty chair.
Megan.
She wore the same dress as when he’d left her this morning at her parents’ house, which told him she hadn’t known about the wedding either. He had no doubt she would’ve dressed up for the occasion. Her gaze was on her hands, neatly avoiding him. Her stillness was a dead giveaway she knew he was there.
When he took his seat, his mother leaned over Megan and said, “You are late, Nash Blackshaw. To your brother’s wedding.”
“Wouldn’t you know that’s what happens when you don’t know your brother is having a wedding,” he said defensively.
Ma gave him a look. “That is no excuse!” She sat back in her chair.
He sighed and turned to Megan. She still had yet to look at him. “I’ve been calling you,” he said to her softly, keeping the conversation private.
“I’ve been ignoring your phone calls,” she said, still not looking at him.
He never thought anything could truly get to him, but her avoiding eye contact made his world all wrong. He tucked a finger under her chin, and he stared into her unique eyes, such a mirror of the woman herself. The blue, icy and cold. The brown, soft and warm. She could be both women. But now as he stared into their depths, he understood why.
He made her have to protect herself. For years she’d done a good job, keeping him at a safe distance. Now, she didn’t hide the sadness and confusion she endured. Fuck, did he feel like shit. All the reasons he told himself that he was in the right to defend himself against Clint this morning didn’t seem so right anymore.
“Megan,” he said softly, his chest squeezing for air.
“Not now, Nash.” She glanced toward Shep and the minister as they took their spots under the garden arbor.
“But—”
She turned to him. Her voice and expression firm. “Tonight is about your brother and my best friend. Do not make this about us.”
Shit, she was right. He swallowed back the unease tightening his chest and sat back.
The harpist began playing a different song—a little faster and sweeter—and everyone rose, including Nash, as Emma strode out from the back door. His brother was a lucky man. She was beautiful in a long flowing gown that fitted her snugly. Her hair was in a side braid. She looked very much the Emma that Nash had grown to care about. Sweet. Kind. Stunning.
Shep smiled, looking proudly at his soon-to-be wife.
Ma had tears in her eyes. Her smile bright, her hands to her chest. Nash couldn’t help but think of his father now. How much he missed his dad. How proud he would be of Shep and Chase.
An unexpected heaviness settled over Nash while Emma strode down the aisle, holding wildflowers. His brothers’ lives were moving on. They had wives and businesses of their own. They were creating their families and establishing strong commitments. They would have made their father immensely proud.
But what had Nash done?
He’d lost his dream. Then he’d hidden from the world.
His chest hurt and a bead of sweat slid down his cheek that had nothing to do with the hot evening. He didn’t like thinking about all he had lost. He had refused to go to the dark place that stained his soul.
To get himself away from those thoughts, Nash glanced at Megan. He discovered tears in her eyes. He hoped those were happy tears for Emma. But he suspected they weren’t. Her two friends had husbands and stability. Nash never minded being the rebel in the family. That was his place, to keep the family on their toes and not take anything too serious
ly. He was never ashamed that he lived on the edge, enjoying spontaneity instead of setting down roots. But he wasn’t the man he once was. He knew that. Something had changed. He’d sensed it the day he got back to River Rock after his injury. A part of him was left back in the ring the day he hit the dirt and never recovered.
Coldness slid into his core. He reached down, taking Megan’s hand in his, suddenly desperate for her warmth. When she so easily clasped her fingers with his, giving herself to him no matter the cost to her heart, he knew his father wouldn’t be proud of the man Nash had become since the accident.
Christ. Nash wasn’t proud either.
* * *
The wedding was beautiful. Megan had watched Shep and Emma intently throughout the ceremony. God, they were so in love, so perfect for each other. They exchanged personal vows, and Megan could tell they meant every single word. She couldn’t have been happier for her friends. All of them. And for herself too. Life was changing for everyone. They were good changes. Everyone was moving in a new direction. She wanted to move in a new direction too. One that wasn’t so damn difficult.
When the ceremony was over, Shep built a bonfire. People drank and danced to the music coming out of the Bose stereo system beneath the white lights strung up between the trees. Megan stood near the fire with Harper and Emma, sipping her lemonade, wishing the entire time it was a shot of her favorite apple whiskey.
