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Thankfully, Janey’s sitting at the table where I left her. She and Luna are talking easily and both smiling. I slip back into my chair, placing my arm around Janey’s back and cupping her hip. She immediately beams at me. “Okay?” she asks, chancing a glance at Kayla before her eyes return to mine. “You were gone for a good bit.”
“Yeah, he admitted to his asshole ways, begged for forgiveness, and agreed to come to dinner at Mom and Dad’s for the next three months without complaint,” Kayla answers for me.
“The hell I did—” I interject.
“That’s amazing!” Janey squeals, punching the air with her little fists. “I knew my plan would work and they’d see how awesome you are! I mean, how could they not? You’re all growly and grouchy, but inside, you’re such a sweetie. I’m so happy!” Janey leans over, pressing her lips to my cheek, but even with the kiss, I can feel her smile.
I look over to Kayla, finding her blinking innocently with a smile of her own. She played me. Like a damn pro. She’s good.
“You too, of course,” she tells Janey. “You’re always welcome.”
Janey gasps. “Really? Oh, my God. Thank you. I’d absolutely love to come. What should I bring? I’m not a good cook, but I can buy the best pie you’ve ever had. Wait... no, you said Grandma Beth makes homemade apple pie which is your favorite, so I’ll pick up a cake or something. Or wine! Should I get red or white? I like white, usually, but if we’re having beef, then I should get red instead.”
Kayla’s eyes sparkle when Janey mentions Grandma Beth’s apple pie. I’ve obviously shared that with Janey, and like Kayla said, she wants me to talk to her and my brothers, but she’s happy I’m sharing with anyone. “Bring that asshole and we’ll call it good,” she reassures Janey while pointing at me. “Really, Mom likes to cook or she’ll have someone cater if she’s not feeling it.”
“Deal!” Janey shouts, agreeing easily.
Later, when Kayla and Luna leave us, saying they’re going to mingle, I turn to Janey. “Thank you,” I tell her, my voice a bit choked.
She smiles, but there’s worry in her gray eyes as she instantly knows what I’m talking about. “Did it go okay? You and Kayla seemed much better, but I know that couldn’t have been an easy conversation. I’m sorry for being the trigger that caused it.”
“What?” I ask with a frown. “You didn’t trigger anything.”
She swallows thickly. “If you hadn’t had to come out for me, you wouldn’t have had to fight Glenn, and then your family wouldn’t have seen what you did. Well, what you said, I guess.”
I can hear what she’s doing. Her whole life, anything that went wrong was blamed on her. Paisley overreacting to a bouquet toss? Janey’s fault. Jessica not getting her way? Somehow, Janey’s fault. Her bully not getting to continue tormenting her? Still, Janey’s fault. She’s so used to being blamed that she’s blaming herself, only now, it’s for my mistakes.
I put a finger over her lips, shushing her. “If I hadn’t gone out there for you, Glenn would’ve made his way inside and that mess would’ve happened in the lobby where everyone would’ve heard and seen. That would’ve been infinitely worse. Besides, none of this” —I gesture to the table like my siblings are still there— “is your fault. It’s my fault for being a shitty brother.”
She doesn’t look sure but asks hopefully, “But it’s better now?”
I nod. “Yeah, thanks to you. It’s better. Not fixed, but maybe one day...” I drift off, wondering how in the hell I’m going to repair an entire lifetime of mistakes I’ve made with my siblings, who aren’t perfect either.
And that’s before I even consider Mom and Dad.
* * *
The rest of the reception is smooth sailing. Chance and Samantha dance the night away, seemingly oblivious to any earlier drama, a delicious dinner is served, toasts are made, and Dad gives a speech about how he always knew Chance was special, earning an eye roll from me that I at least attempt to hide, and how he’s glad he’s found a woman equally as special. Considering their first meeting, that’s major progress, especially for Dad.
As great as it is, I nearly fling my half-burned sparkler in the metal trash can after the send-off because I’m way past ready to go home. I take Janey’s hand and nearly haul her to the parking lot.
“I’ll follow you?” she asks, looking up at me through half-open lashes while we’re standing at the door to her yellow car.
She means back to my place or her place. But I want her to have the chance to lead with everything. She’s more than capable and deserves the right to be in control... for now.
“Where? To do what?” I ask, letting all the hunger I feel for her weave through the words as I twirl one of her red curls around my finger. “Your choice.”
“Is your bed as uncomfortable as your couch?” she asks with a shy smile. Her fingers are tiptoeing up my abdomen to my chest, where she drags a fingertip over the skin of my neck just above my collar. I’ve never thought myself particularly sensitive there, but right now, it might be enough to make me come. Flirty Janey, when she feels that she’s got me in the palm of her hand, is a beautiful sight.
“I have no idea. It’s a bed. It’s a couch.” I never thought about it honestly, and I don’t have the blood flow to think about it now.
“Let’s find out,” she purrs.
I nearly shove her into her car, making sure she doesn’t flash any of the other wedding guests who are also all over the parking lot. I can’t risk a kiss, so I close her door, tap the top of her car, and growl, “Follow me, and keep up.”
She laughs, not offended at my caveman orders. In fact, when I back my truck out, she’s parked right behind me, already having trailed after me in her car. She’s as ready as I am. We’ve waited long enough.
I beat my own personal record on how fast I can drive between Chance’s club and my place, and that’s saying something because the former record was set when Samantha was missing and we were rallying around Chance, fearing the worst.
