Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  I surreptitiously study him while Tucker talks to his friends. His broad shoulders are clad in a black suit jacket—the one I imagined him wearing the day I organized his closet. His dark hair is tamed and sexy, and his strong jaw is clean-shaven. He could be so popular, so beloved, if only he’d let it happen.

  I’m focused as if I’m going to try to paint him from memory later when his eyes cut to me, like he’s known I was there all along. A cascade of goose bumps roll down my body and I jerk my attention back to the altar. My heart pounds. My breathing is erratic. Luckily, I can just pretend to be emotional about the holy matrimony about to take place before me.

  Jack’s loner status doesn’t go unnoticed. One of Tucker’s friends mentions it.

  “Think someone ought to go save the poor guy? I feel kind of bad.”

  Tucker sneers. “He does it to himself with that damn attitude.”

  They chuckle and agree, and I’m left sitting there biting my tongue. My gut instinct is to defend Jack, but how? By admitting that he’s treated me poorly too? By confirming that he’s as mean as everyone thinks he is?

  “Don’t you agree, Meredith?”

  No.

  His actions might be indefensible, but I won’t pile on him with everyone else.

  I shake my head. “He’s fine.”

  “You could run for office with a poker face like that.” Jacob laughs heartily. “You live on that property with him day in and day out. He’s probably chewed your head off more times than you can count.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve given it right back to him.” Now shut up.

  Tucker chuckles and wraps his arm around my shoulder, jostling me. “That’s my girl.”

  I chance another glance at Jack and if possible, he looks even more annoyed and grumpy than he did a minute ago. His brows are furrowed and his attention is once again on the altar up ahead, unwavering. I want to crack his skull like a clam and read his thoughts. Why are you all alone? Why’d you have to push me away?

  The group of friends around me goes right on chatting, but I’m oblivious to their conversation. My attention is on Jack right up until Dotty walks up to his pew and asks if she can sit beside him. His brows arch in surprise and he scoots over, giving her the aisle seat.

  “Why are you smiling?” Tucker says, following my gaze.

  I blink and think quick, pointing to some floral arrangement a few feet beyond Jack’s pew. “I was just thinking those are some of the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen.”

  He laughs and rubs his thumb along my shoulder. “You like roses that much? I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  I strain my ears to try to catch a bit of Jack and Dotty’s conversation, but there are far too many people separating us. A few minutes later, I do catch his laugh though—deep and throaty—and my gut clenches tight.

  Then the ceremony starts and we all stand to watch Leanna walk down the aisle. For the first time since I arrived, I have no trouble keeping my attention on someone other than Jack. She walks toward Daniel with the biggest smile on her face and happy tears slipping down her cheeks. Her gown is a whole lot of dress. She’s gone for the full princess look, and it’s paying off—she’s breathtaking. Daniel obviously agrees, the look of pure adoration in his eyes spawning more than a few tears in the audience.

  It’s a heady experience to watch a marriage begin knowing my own is in the process of being dissolved. I think about that as Daniel and Leanna say their vows, staring into each other’s eyes and promising to stick together through thick and thin. I made those same vows, and a part of me feels guilty that I’m breaking them. Then I remind myself that Andrew was a different person when we got married, someone I trusted to take care of me and safeguard my heart. He chose to break our contract long before I did.

  Maybe I should be cynical about marriage now, but I’m not. Not every man is like Andrew. There are Daniels floating around the world, you just have to keep an eye out for them. Oh yeah, Meredith? And what about the Jacks of the world? What do you do for them?

  I glance over to see him fidgeting in his pew. He angles his head toward the back of the church then scans the crowd, hopping from person to person before landing back on me. Our gazes click into place like two puzzle pieces. This time, neither one of us looks away. His dark eyes are all I see.

  The pastor speaks as Leanna and Daniel exchange rings: “May these rings be a visible symbol of the love that unites these two young hearts. May they serve as a daily reminder of the promises you made here today.”

  I know the words aren’t meant for us. We aren’t the ones standing up on the altar, but I can’t look away, and he isn’t either.

  “Meredith,” Tucker whispers. I jerk my gaze back to the altar like he’s just caught me red-handed. “Do you need a tissue?”

  “Oh, no thank you.” I’m not crying. In fact, I’d forgotten about the wedding altogether.

  I chance another quick peek and find that Jack is facing forward again.

  While the bride and groom snap photos with their family members after the ceremony, most of us walk one block over to the reception. It’s in the middle of the town square, in the park surrounding the courthouse. Twinkle lights glow overhead, and all of the tables are covered in red and white gingham tablecloths. For centerpieces, mason jars are filled with sunflowers and white roses. Whiskey barrels serve as cocktail tables, and booze flows in every direction. Tucker goes to get me a glass of wine while I hang back with his friends. They really are nice, and even though they all grew up together, they don’t make me feel like an outsider. Jacob even promises he’ll teach me how to two-step after finding out I’ve never done it before. They all latch onto that, completely shocked that I could exist for twenty-eight years without ever having stepped foot in a “honky-tonk”.

  “Here you are,” Tucker says, rejoining the group with a Corona for himself and a glass of white wine for me. “Sauvignon blanc, hope that’s okay.”

  The wine is delicious, so crisp and refreshing. It’s been a while since I’ve tasted wine this good, and I make a mental note to pace myself or I’ll be acting a fool out on the dance floor later with Jacob and Tucker.

  Once the bride and groom make their appearance, they open two buffet lines and everyone makes quick work of piling their plates with barbecue from Blue Stone’s restaurant. I’m carrying my plate back to our group’s table when I catch sight of Jack.

  What is it about a handsome man sitting alone that makes your heart ache, even if you know the handsome man is sitting alone for a very good reason? He’s probably offended half the people in attendance and yet deep down, I know I shouldn’t give up on him.

  No!

  I shake off the feeling.

  I’m not about to march over there and save him. He made his bed, and now he can lie in it. I follow Tucker back to the table and start eating. I fork some potato salad into my gullet then nibble on some bread, but I have no appetite and just can’t handle the thought of Jack sitting by himself through the entire wedding reception.

  God help me.

  I turn to Tucker and offer up an easy smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  22

  Jack

  Edith talked me into coming to this wedding. They aren’t really my thing. In fact, given the choice between attending a wedding and getting a root canal, I’d lean back and say, Ahhhh.

  Daniel’s a good guy though, and he’s worked for me for years. I’m glad I’m here now, though I plan on leaving as soon as they cut the cake. I hate weddings; I do not hate cake. Maybe I can talk Edith into snagging me another piece on her way out. Unlike most old-timers who grumble about the lateness of the hour, she’ll be here until they shut the place down—except, she won’t agree to the cake idea. She’s not talking to me right now. She’s pissed about my fight with Meredith.

  “You think she left that husband for the attention?! How thick is that skull of yours?”

  Those were her exact words. Then, she called me an idiot and thumped me on the ba
ck of the head before walking right out of the room. Edith can scold with the best of them.

  I wonder if I’m really that far off about Meredith. I thought I was the only person in Cedar Creek thinking clearly about this woman, but I suppose it’s possible that the opposite is true. Should I not have trusted Helen’s judgment of her own sister? The day she showed up, she fit the stereotype I’d been warned about to a T: gorgeous, dolled up, headstrong. She didn’t seem like a wounded bird to me. Hell, she pecked at me every chance she got.

  I thought I’d finally pinned her down in my office the other day. I voiced every suspicion swirling in my head and then I watched, waiting for the fury, the anger, and the lies. I knew she’d deny it all, and she did, but something felt…off. I’ve never witnessed hurt like I saw in her eyes. My words weren’t just insulting, but deep affronts to her pride. I realized in that moment that my accusations might have been out of line.

  I hate to admit a mistake, because I try so hard not to make them, but there’s a possibility I’m wrong. Okay, there’s more than a possibility. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have stuck around this long if she were just trying to get a rise out of her husband. I was told she was entitled and spoiled, but other than the advance, she hasn’t asked for a single thing. She’s worked damn hard and then some. I never told her she had to bake cookies for the ranch hands or organize my closet. She puts in more hours than anyone else besides me, and I thanked her by—how did I put it? Ah yes, I accused her of being a spoiled, heartless flirt. Boy do I have a way with words.

  Christine would be howling with laughter if she could see me now, sitting alone at a wedding—well, not totally alone. I’ve somehow found myself at the kids table. They’re supposed to be minding their manners and eating their dinner, but between you and me, the brown-haired boy—the one who reminds me of myself—is acting like a little snot, putting ice down the dress of the girl beside him. I tell him to knock it off and his eyes get wide with fear. It’s pretty much the same way everyone has looked at me tonight. I wonder if the kids around Cedar Creek think of my house as the dark, scary, haunted house on the dead-end road. Apparently, I’ve created quite the reputation for myself.

  It’s why I’m here by myself.

  Meredith isn’t alone though. Even now, she has all of Tucker’s friends circled around her, eating out of the palm of her hand. She has a way with people. She makes them laugh and puts stars in their eyes. Two days ago, I accused her of using her charms on purpose, but now I’m not sure it isn’t just her natural effect on people. Add that to the list of things I need to apologize for.

  I push barbecue around on my plate because I can’t stomach another bite.

  I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s Daniel’s brother walking over—nice guy I’ve hung out with once or twice. I smile and pull out a chair for him to sit.

  “Oh, actually I was just gonna ask if anyone was using the chair…”

  The troublemaking boy laughs. It’s just him and me at the table now. Seems fitting.

  “They say you’re mean as the devil.”

  “And what do you think?”

  He looks at the top of my head, in search of red horns.

  “I think it’s true.”

  “Well, you’ll find out if you keep messing with that girl who was sitting by you earlier.”

  He scowls and stomps off.

  “Oh yeah, and also if you don’t eat your vegetables!”

  I push away from the table and head for the bar. They’re serving Blue Stone wine tonight. I donated a few cases as a wedding present to Daniel, plus a fat check and a week off from work. Apparently he’s taking Leanna down to Cancun. I might treat myself to a trip there later this year; I could use a few days away from the ranch. Of course, it doesn’t occur to me in this moment that Christine tried for two years to get me to take a vacation and I turned her down every time. The thing is, I didn’t want to go away with her. Now, the feisty brunette who hates my guts? I wouldn’t mind being on a beach with her. Piña coladas, coconut bikini, tan lines…sí señora.

  I’m thinking about the prospect when she comes up right beside me at the bar. I haven’t spoken to her in two days and now here she is, within arm’s reach.

  I glance down at her and offer a conciliatory smile.

  She doesn’t respond.

  “You just skipped the line,” I joke, trying to coax some kind of conversation out of her.

  She ignores me, orders another sauvignon blanc, and then tells the bartender to put it on my tab.

  I smile wider. “It’s an open bar.”

  She emits a little annoyed humph then spins on her heel. Before I know what I’m doing, my hand reaches out and I catch her elbow, spinning her back around to me and gently leading her away from the bar.

  “Still upset with me?” I ask, leaning down to try to catch her blue eyes. Tonight they’re more electric than ever, alive with disdain for me.

  “Upset is putting it mildly.”

  Her voice is biting, but mine’s not.

  “Fair enough. Still, I saw you watching me during the ceremony.”

  “We were in a church, so I was waiting to see if you’d spontaneously burst into flame. I didn’t want to miss it.”

  I’m smiling, even though I know I shouldn’t be. I just can’t help it. She’s funny.

  “Dance with me.”

  Her eyes turn into two huge saucers.

  “You’re kidding.”

  I’ve never been kidding less.

  My hand releases her elbow and I hold it out palm up, waiting for her to accept it.

  “Don’t say no.”

  Not with everyone watching.

  She looks at my hand like it’s a snake.

  “I did just buy you a drink.”

  “It’s an open bar,” she points out, throwing my words back at me.

  “Yeah, but that’s Blue Stone wine.”

  She sneers at her glass and sets it down on a nearby table.

  I have no choice but to take matters into my own hands. She’s not going to accept a dance with me—and she shouldn’t—so I’ll just have to guide her toward the dance floor while she’s too stunned to turn me down.

  I pull her into my arms, appreciating the slow song playing over the speakers. Her hands hang like limp noodles at her sides and I tug her closer. We aren’t hip to hip, but we’re not far off.

  “Why do you want to dance with me?” she asks, her voice devoid of any real anger. “After everything you said in your office, I’m surprised you can even stand to look at me.”

  “You’re supposed to put your hands on my shoulders,” I say, ignoring her question. “Or if you’re feeling fancy, you can clasp them around my neck.”

  “That might give people the idea that I like you. Where should I put my hands if I want to show that I can’t stand you?”

  Her dig garners a few suspicious stares and awkward laughs from the couples dancing around us.

  “Guess I’m not alone in thinking you’re a jerk,” she continues, firing shots every chance she gets.

  I smile. “Alfred doesn’t think I’m a jerk.”

  She snorts. “You don’t deserve Alfred.”

  Finally, resigned, she moves her hands tentatively up to my shoulders. I use the opportunity to bring us a little closer. She feels good in my arms even though every atom inside of her is trying to pull away from me. A more polite guy would respect that and move away, but I think we’ve established that I don’t have much respect to lose in her eyes.

  “What about you?” I ask gently. “Do you hate me?”

  She’s focused on the edge of the dance floor, her profile facing me. I can still see anger building behind her blue gaze. “I do.”

  “Then I won’t try to talk you out of it.”

  She nods. “There’s no point. You won’t convince me you’re anything but an arrogant jerk.”

  “Glad that’s settled.”

  My capitulation only makes her madder. She’s fumin
g for a fight, but I’m ready to humble myself and apologize.

  “No. You know what?” Her temper flares. “One second you’re hot, the next you’re cold. What you said in your office was unforgivable.”

  “I completely agree.”

  She jerks her gaze to me, and I hope she can see the regret buried there. For a second I think she does, but then she shakes her head and tries to move away.

  “Please don’t leave. Everyone’s watching us.”

  Her expression breaks and I know I have her. Her heart’s too big to walk away now. She won’t embarrass me.

  “This isn’t fair. I don’t want to dance with you, not after what you said.”

  “I want to apologize.”

  “I don’t accept.”

  I lower my voice. “Look, Helen painted a picture of you early on that wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t know any better than to believe her. But, I’m starting to see that she doesn’t know you any better than I did three weeks ago.”

  “I don’t want to listen to this.”

  I tip my head down and whisper against her hair. “Meredith, I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure you weren’t the person I thought you were. Once I saw your reaction in my office, I realized I was wrong.”

  “Oh yeah? Is that why it’s taken you two days to apologize?”

  “It’s not an easy thing for me to do.” I smile. “Besides, you can run pretty hot too. I know what it’s like to need time to cool down.”

  She’s a ball of fiery anger in my arms. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s thinking about socking me in the jaw.

  The song ends and she finally steps away, dabbing at the corner of her eye. Fuck. I made her cry.

  “I want to go home.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “I’ll ask Tucker.”

  “He’s been drinking.”

  I saw him have a beer earlier, so technically I’m not lying.

  “Then I’ll ask Edith.”

  Edith, smart woman that she is, tells Meredith she’s not ready to leave yet.

  “Just have Jack drive you,” Edith says, pointing to me.