Jocelyn: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Sewing in SoCal Book 2)

by Sarah Monzon

  I slid my phone between my thighs then crossed my legs. Out of sight, out of mind. For my friends anyway. And maybe a bit for me too. Maybe if I couldn’t see the device, I could focus for more than a few minutes on something other than the messages Malachi and I had been sending each other.

  Two weeks. More time apart than we ever were together. But instead of the distance severing any sort of tenuous link we’d created, the opposite had happened. I felt closer to him now than I had when I’d been right in front of him.

  A tiny part of me worried. Though I ached to see him again, to feel his reserved smile focused on me, the warm touch of his calloused hand, I worried the connection we’d forged through texts and phone calls would vanish like a morning fog when we saw each other again. Would he go back to being the man who hid behind his shyness, unable to verbalize what was in his heart, or would I be able to coax those words out like I had his laughter?

  A glint entered Amanda’s eyes, and I realized too late my mistake. The hide-the-evidence move I’d used with my phone had only accomplished raising her suspicions. I grabbed the material on top of Nicole’s stack—a soft cotton blend with tiny yellow flowers—and unfolded it. The edges were already sewn in a seam. She hadn’t cut this off a bolt at a fabric store.

  “This is nice. Where’d you get it?” I asked.

  Betsy walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray bearing ice-filled glasses and a two-liter bottle of Coke.

  Molly straightened from her position on the floor. She’d been hunched over a pattern she’d been pinning in place. She put her hands on her hips as she watched Betsy set the tray on the coffee table. “Really? That’s your idea of a mocktail?”

  Betsy unscrewed the lid of the soda, waited until the fizz settled, and poured five glasses. She handed the first to Molly. “It’s a virgin Rum and Coke.”

  I tried not to laugh when she passed me a glass. Last time Betsy had been on refreshment duty, she’d served virgin Mimosas that consisted of a single ingredient—orange juice.

  Nicole put her glass on the table without imbibing then took back the fabric I’d stolen from her pile. “It’s a vintage sheet I got at a thrift store. I’m going to repurpose it.”

  Amanda eyed the fabric. “How…industrious of you.”

  My phone vibrated under my leg, and Amanda’s head whipped my direction. Sitting right beside me, she’d felt the alert of an incoming message too. I sipped at my Coke, trying to appear nonchalant even though everything within me screamed to dig my phone out and read the text.

  Not that I was hiding my budding relationship with Malachi from my friends. I was merely trying to postpone their interrogation for as long as possible. Like, until after I saw him again and could get a sense of whether we could work as a couple in real life, face-to-face.

  “Jocelyn…” Amanda tinkled the ice in her glass. “You don’t happen to have any salty kinds of snacks, do you? Fizzy drinks always give me the munchies.”

  Molly spoke around the trio of straight pins in her mouth. “Go check the cupboard.”

  Since Molly and I were roommates and she’d done the grocery shopping last, she’d know better than I what the pantry held, but I had a suspicion Amanda had something less innocent than snacking in mind.

  She made her eyes round. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly rifle through your shelves.”

  “Never stopped you before,” Betsy chimed in.

  “Shut it,” Amanda growled under her breath before blinking and resuming her fake guileless expression. She patted my arm. “Maybe some pretzels?”

  What was she up to? I stared at her. Waited. Her right eye twitched, then her façade broke as she huffed out a breath.

  “Fine. I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve left me no choice.” As if she’d seen the snap of an invisible football, she charged me like a linebacker, wrapping her arms around my middle and driving me into the couch cushions. “Grab it! Grab her phone!” she shrieked in my ear.

  Nicole, Molly, and Betsy ignored both the tackle and the crazy command.

  Molly pointed to Nicole’s fabric. “Have you got a design picked out?”

  I shoved at Amanda and she fell off me, her teeth gritting in pain, but I hadn’t pushed her that hard. Probably acting again.

  I looked to the couch cushion where I’d been sitting, but it was empty. Where had my phone gone?

  Molly held it out to me while pinning a look at Amanda. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready. In the meantime, I have some news to share if you’re done tackling people.”

  My gaze snapped to her left hand. There, resting between her knuckles, lay a diamond solitaire. How had we all missed that? Squeals erupted in the room, and we all started talking over each other.

  “When did he propose?”

  “How did he propose?”

  “Let me see the ring.”

  “I’m so excited for you!”

  “Do you have a date set yet?”

  “Or a location? Or a dress? Ah! The dress!”

  Molly laughed and let us maul her hand to get better looks at the ring. Simple yet elegant. Ben had chosen well.

  I wrapped my best friend in a fierce hug. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

  She squeezed me back. “So do you.”

  Our eyes met when we pulled apart. In them I saw her hope and joy—not only for her own future but for mine as well. I hadn’t told her about Malachi, but she knew anyway. Somehow. Although, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Keeping secrets from one’s girlfriends was like trying to hide a whale in a fish tank. Not possible and inadvisable.

  “How did he propose?” Amanda asked again. “Was a unicorn involved?”

  Ben and Molly had a history with unicorns.

  Molly smiled. “No unicorns, but still quite romantic.”

  “You better get on with the story or she might explode,” Betsy said, pointing to Amanda.

  “That’s right.” Amanda nodded seriously. “And I don’t think anyone wants to clean that up.”

  Molly stretched out her arm and wiggled her fingers as she took in her sparkly ring. “It happened last night. He came home from a twelve-hour shift, exhausted and a little smelly because he hadn’t showered and changed out of his scrubs like he normally does.”

  “Disheveled and stinky equals romantic?” Betsy made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Whatever floats your boat, sister.”

  “It was romantic! He didn’t shower or change because he needed to see me right then and he couldn’t stand even the few minutes longer for us to be apart.”

  I covered her hand with mine. “I think it sounds perfect.”

  “I’m happy for you, Molly.” Nicole smiled. “Have you guys made any plans yet?”

  Betsy rolled her eyes. “They only got engaged last night.”

  Molly’s cheeks pinkened. “Actually, we did discuss some particulars.” She squeezed my hand. “Do you think the Thomases would be open to letting us use their property as a venue? We’d pay them, of course. But Ben and I both thought the ranch was absolutely beautiful and would love to get married there.”

  “I can ask him.”

  Amanda leaned into my shoulder. “I’m not going to steal Molly’s moment,” she whispered. “But don’t think I’ll forget about this thing with you and a certain cowboy.”

  I popped my shoulder up to displace the little gnat and grinned at Molly. “Have you thought about dresses? What silhouette you might like?”

  She coughed. “Umm, I might have a confession.” Her face got even redder as she walked over to a side table and yanked open the drawer. She reached in and pulled out a familiar ream of paper.

  The sketchbook Malachi had given me.

  “I might have found this in your room one day, and I might have peeked inside.” She held the book to her chest, her eyes holding a telltale sheen as she looked across the room at me. “These are really beautiful, Jocelyn.”

  “More secrets?” Amanda waved her hands around like she was trying to call
a foul play.

  “Tsk, tsk.” Betsy sounded disapproving, but her eyes said something different.

  I held my hand out for the book. “They’re not secrets exactly.”

  “No,” Molly agreed. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Either one of you going to fill the rest of us in?” Nicole asked.

  I flipped through the acid-free pages until I found a design I’d been working on with Molly in mind. A simple but sophisticated relaxed A-line silhouette with a boat neckline and a slightly low dipped back to add a hint of sexiness. Textured satin would slim through the bodice and hips and then flare with ease along the sides of the skirt. An adorable little bow nipping at the waist to add a pinch of whimsy and flirtiness, but the best part—

  “Are those pockets?” Nicole gasped behind me. I hadn’t noticed that my friends had crowded around.

  The model I’d drawn did indeed have her hands in pockets.

  Amanda swatted my shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you could design stuff like this?”

  I shrugged. “I used to doodle designs all the time but hadn’t picked up a pencil to create in a forever. Not since Mal—” I stopped short, but four pairs of eyes smiled back at me knowingly. “Oh, all right. Yes, Malachi and I have been getting to know one another better. He sent me the sketchbook and encouraged me to dream a little again.”

  “That’s really sweet,” Molly said at the same time as Amanda muttered, “Was that so hard to admit?”

  We all looked at the picture for a few moments in silence.

  “Do you think you could make this one?” Molly touched the page.

  I blinked up at her. “Really? You want me to create your wedding dress?”

  Her lips quivered. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  “We’ll all help,” Nicole offered.

  I wiped at an errant tear. What did I ever do to deserve these women as my best friends?

  24

  Malachi

  “What do you think of having a wedding take place at the ranch?”

  Nate’s fork fell from his hand and clanked against his plate.

  Miriam sputtered, orange juice dribbling down her chin.

  Gran slowly set down her mug of black coffee. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Do you have something you need to tell us?”

  “Like what in the world you’re thinking?” Nate rested his palms on top of the table as if preparing himself to jump up at any moment.

  “Okay…” I said slowly. Obviously something had been lost in translation because, even though I knew what had come out of my mouth, my family was reacting like I’d said something completely different. “I’m thinking about the amount of traffic a wedding would create on the property. The work it would add to all of us. The livestock and where we’ll be in production at that time—although a date hasn’t been decided, as far as I know. And I’m thinking about revenue. What should we charge or whether we should let the land be used as a sort of wedding present?”

  “You were thinking of charging her?” Miriam asked, outraged.

  I shrugged. “Jocelyn said something about payment, but like I said, maybe we want to let the ranch be used as a wedding gift.”

  Miriam gaped at me.

  Nate gawked.

  Gran studied.

  “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

  “We’re wondering how you went from barely being able to talk to Jocelyn a few weeks ago to planning a wedding with her.” Nate shook his head.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m doing any of the planning.” I shrugged. The girls had that covered. They just needed a place, hence the powwow with my family.

  “Of course not.” Miriam’s lips twisted. “Just like a guy to let the woman do all the work in these matters.”

  Why was I being attacked for a simple question? “She didn’t really ask me to help, just wanted to know if we’d be open to the wedding taking place here.”

  Gran patted my hand. “Of course the wedding can happen here. And we all really like Jocelyn, Malachi. We’re happy for you. Just a little surprised.”

  “Great,” I said slowly. “I like her too…” Bits of the conversation came back to me, aligning themselves to make a different picture than I’d presented. “Wait. Do you guys think…” I stood up so fast the chair fell backward. “I didn’t ask Jocelyn to marry me! I’m not crazy!”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Nate breathed. “I thought you’d lost your ever-lovin’ mind.”

  “We’ve only known each other for a little over three weeks, and two of those have been long distance. I like her a lot, I really do, but no one is jumping the gun and galloping to the finish line.” I righted my chair and settled back down. “Let me enjoy the journey for a bit longer. Sheesh.”

  Gran picked her fork up and stabbed at her pile of scrambled eggs. “Well, now you know that when the time is right, we’ll all be thrilled to add her to the family and y’all can get hitched right here at the Double B.” A particular glint entered her eye, and she set her fork down then stood and excused herself.

  “What do you think that was about?” Nate asked.

  “Beats me.”

  Miriam took her plate to the sink. “Then who is getting married?”

  “Oh, you remember Molly? She was one of Jocelyn’s friends that was here a couple of weeks ago with her boyfriend—or fiancé now, I guess—in tow.”

  “I remember. She was really nice.”

  I’d have to take Miriam’s word for it. Out of everyone in the group, I’d gotten to know the young girl the best. Although, if things kept going with Jocelyn, I’d need to better acquaint myself with her friends. Those four women seemed really important to her, and though the prospect of that many females all in one place scared the tar out of me, knowing them would give me a glimpse at another side of Jocelyn, and I found there wasn’t anything about her I wanted to hide from.

  “Here it is.” Gran walked back into the kitchen carrying a large book, its edges frayed and cover banged up. She sat down and turned the pages, the ancient spine crackling with the movement. She flipped the book around to show us. A couple in a black-and-white photograph stared back at us, unsmiling. The man wore a three-piece suit with a starched collar, and the woman on his arm was dressed in a white dress with a crown of flowers circling her head and a gauzy veil cascading down her back.

  Miriam inched closer. “Is that great-great-granddad?”

  “Mmhmm.” Gran tapped the picture. “And his mail-order bride.”

  “I don’t recall you ever telling us this before.” Nate angled his head to better scrutinize the couple in the photo.

  “All this talk of weddings brought it back to me. See, Clement Thomas and Esther King were the first couple to marry on this stretch of land. After the Civil War, newly freed slaves were looking for a better life, but even in the north they faced oppression and violence. Some, like Clement here, looked to the west for his future. After a few years of fighting as a Buffalo soldier, he grew tired of the bloodshed and injustice done to the Native American tribes and thought to take advantage of the Homestead Act that allowed anyone to become a landowner. Of course, there weren’t many women out in these wild parts back then except the working kind that followed the mining camps around. Some of the married women in the area didn’t appreciate the rowdiness of the men and organized a campaign to write to newspapers back east to find women who wanted to leave behind their lives of poverty and tragedy for the chance of love and a new life.”

  Miriam traced the bottom of the wedding dress with her finger. “And Esther responded.”

  “She did.” Gran looked up at me. “They were married a few weeks after her arrival. A love match, if a bit of a whirlwind.” She patted my cheek. “All this talk of weddings and thinking you meant Jocelyn, well, it brought Clement and Esther’s story back to my mind. I thank you for that.”

  I studied the faces of my ancestors. “So you’re saying lasting love is a part of the Thomas legacy as well.”
r />   “As much as hard work and dedication.”

  I looked up and caught my family staring at me with silly grins on their faces. “I feel like I’m repeating myself, but why are you all looking at me like that? Especially since, when you thought I’d proposed to Jocelyn, you called me crazy.”

  “That was before we heard the story of Clement and Esther.” Miriam clasped her hands together.

  I folded my arms. “I’m still not racing to the finish line.”

  Nate prodded me with his elbow. “No, but maybe you could bump your speed up to a trot instead of a plodding walk.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I think he’s implying that you’re still dragging your feet and letting your insecurities get in your way.” Miriam grabbed the rest of the dishes on the table to clear away.

  “We’ve been talking every day, so I can’t see as how anyone could accuse me of that.”

  “You haven’t seen her in two weeks.” Nate’s tone implied his opinion on the matter.

  “I’ve been a little busy with the calving and running the ranch, thank you very much.”

  Nate’s fake cough didn’t hide his accusation of “excuses.”

  “She’s only a few hours away, not on the other side of the country.” Miriam ran hot water over the dirty plates.

  “You could surprise her,” Gran suggested with a hint of a smile on her lips.

  “What if she doesn’t like surprises?” They weren’t suggesting anything I hadn’t thought of before. My desire to see Jocelyn again had been outweighing my trepidation that somehow being together in the same space would ruin the closeness we’d cultivated over the distance. But there was still that niggle of doubt that I’d somehow say something that would wreck the whole thing.

  “Then you’ll have learned another thing about her.” Gran gently shut the old family album. “You can’t win if you don’t try.”

  “And Miriam, Gran, and I are completely capable of keeping the ranch running while you’re gone,” Nate assured.

  “I…” Already nerves were working to thicken my tongue and cause my words to stumble like a newborn calf finding its legs for the first time.