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“No reason. I just really like you.”
“That’s good, because I really like you too.” Pulling her back into my arms, sweetly, softly, I press my lips to the edge of her mouth. “But if it’s alright with you, can we get downstairs again before your dad decides to put a bullet in my back? The dude’s scary as fuck, Tink.”
Brinley
Dinner goes as smoothly as it possibly can, what with Dad purposefully sitting at the table between us. He was relentless with the questions, one after the other. I swear it was like the Spanish Inquisition.
But in Reed’s defense, he didn’t falter.
He answered all my father’s questions, and I think he actually made a decent impression on the man, because once dessert was done with, Reed got an invite onto the back porch. Strictly man territory.
Let the beer-drinking and cigar-smoking begin.
Mia happily chatted away with me the entire time, about the wedding and the honeymoon they’d planned, and once we’d cleared away the dishes, I spent the next couple of hours stretched out on her bed beside her like we used to do when we were kids, flipping through bridal magazines and listening to 80s rock ballads.
My mom tittered around the house endlessly, tidying up, making sure everything wasjust right. God knows how many white wines she’d had over dinner. I assured her repeatedly that Reed didn’t care if the cushions were fluffed, or the sideboard was dust-free, but my mother wanted everything to be perfect.
We’d discussed it at great length, and Reed had decided not to attend Mia and Michael’s wedding. He didn’t want to take the spotlight away from the bride and groom on their special day. And that wasn’t even him being egotistical, it was just a fact. Plain and simple. He attracted attention. People stared at him, asked for autographs, wanted to pose for photographs, and he didn’t want any of that to come between Mia and her dream wedding.
He did, however, after much begging on my mother’s behalf, agree to attend the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, and that way he could meet some of the extended family, and some of the locals from town, who were all just about falling over themselves to get a peek at the legendary Cold Neptune front man.
The following day is a blur of trying on bridesmaid dresses and cake tastings, along with seating charts, satin chair covers, and dealing with all the hire companies who have started arriving, unpacking tables and chairs, long white carpets, and reels and reels of fairy lights that Mia wants strung all around the garden.
Reed kept himself busy by volunteering his services to the light department, and I tried not to laugh as I watched him listening carefully to Mia’s strict instructions, his face contorted and strained with concentration, not game to get anything wrong.
By later that afternoon, the entire backyard had been transformed into a whimsical, wedding wonderland. It really did look beautiful. Trellises had been covered in glossy greenery, and a water feature–yes, Lord help me, a water feature–had been set up over by the hedges.
Reed did an amazing job with the lights. They looked gorgeous set against a backdrop of the mountains off in the distance. Dad set up all the tables and chairs, and Mom and I followed along behind him with linen tablecloths and vintage jars filled with tea candles.
Michael’s parents went all out and hired caterers for tonight’s dinner. Mom was so overwhelmed she almost cried.
So, as it currently stands, the house is overrun with men in tailored pants and crisp white shirts, and there are waitresses setting up cocktail tables out on the front porch.
Once they commandeer my mother’s kitchen, she heads to her bedroom with Dad, and I head upstairs to start getting ready for dinner.
I brought with me a knee-length black dress. It’s fitted, and it gives me just the right amount of curves, and I most definitely had Reed in mind when I picked it out.
Once I’m done fixing my hair, and makeup, I sit on the end of the bed and slip my feet into my strappy high heels. Then I head back out into the hallway, only to find God’s gift to women leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, hands buried deep in his pockets, feet casually crossed at the ankles like some damn rock-singing Adonis.
“Hey,” he says, smiling back at me. His eyes do a quick sweep of my dress and he lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “You look beautiful, Tink.”
“Thanks.”
“You ready?”
I nod, speechless as I take him in. He’s wearing dark tan trousers, and a black dress shirt open at the collar. The cuffs are rolled over twice and his sexy forearms are on display.
He looks a little lost when we walk into the busy kitchen, and I lean in close to his side as we make our way into the living room, which is quickly filling up with guests and excited chatter, the sound of glasses clinking together and vibrant laughter.
Mom and Dad are standing by the front door, welcoming people I don’t even recognize, and Mia is flitting about in a red dress that fits her like a glove. She looks so happy, and that makes me smile.
“Brinley?”
Freezing at the sound of the male voice behind me, my smile fades instantly. I turn slowly and I’m met with Dean’s pale gray eyes staring back at me. He looks shocked to see me standing there, though why, I’m not entirely sure.
He knew I was coming.
Did he really think I wouldn’t show up just because he was going to be here? My eyes feel that familiar prickle of tears welling behind them. But I refuse to cry.
