by Kennedy Fox
I blink hard, freezing before I take a bite. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think you’ll be wedding-ready by March?”
I clear my throat before setting my food down on the plate. “I thought Winnie was coordinating—”
“Not that. Your body. Will you be ready to wear a dress and be photographed? Our wedding photos will be posted all over the internet.” He finally makes eye contact with me, and I know he’s serious.
“You think I need to lose weight beforehand?” My shaky voice gives away my nervousness, but I can’t help it. I’m a size four, sometimes a six when I’m bloated, but I’ve been petite my entire life. In fact, I’ve struggled so fucking hard to gain, and it’s something I’ve been self-conscious about since I was a scrawny teenager. I hit puberty late, and I didn’t get hips or boobs until I was nearly twenty. Not exactly a magnet for attracting guys when girls my age were rocking double D’s and had perfect asses.
“Doesn’t every bride-to-be stress about being in tip-top shape for their big day? I assumed you’d go on some crazed diet to ensure you’d look your absolute best. It’ll be the event of the year and so many eyes will be on you.”
I’m not sure how I should take his assumption, considering I’ve hardly mentioned the wedding, and I have never talked about dieting. If anything, I’d like to be at least ten pounds heavier beforehand so I can fill out the bodice. “Well, to answer your question–yes, my body is ready,” I say between clenched teeth, offended. “Most dresses have to be altered after their purchase to fit properly.”
“When do you think you’ll go try some on? I’d love to join you. We can make a day out of it.”
Narrowing my brows, I dive back into my food that’s getting cold. “That’s breaking tradition.”
“Can’t the groom have an opinion on his bride’s gown?”
“You should think I’m beautiful in whatever I pick.”
He flashes a small grin. “Of course I will.”
“I haven’t had time to look, but I suppose since we set the date, I could. I’ll try to schedule something with Katie and Everleigh soon.”
“In that case, why wait until March? Find a dress next weekend and let’s move up the date.”
I nearly choke on the toast I just shoved into my mouth but quickly recover before he notices. “Move it? March only gives us seven months as it is.”
“Yes, but we’ve been engaged for a year and a half. Invites haven’t been sent yet. I’m tired of waiting to make you my wife.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand, then squeezes. “The sooner we get married, the sooner we can have children.”
“Children?” We’ve talked about starting a family but not right away. I was thinking we’d have one kid since Robert is in his mid-forties, but he works so much that he hardly spends time with me, let alone any children we may have.
“I’d like three, maybe four.” He says it so casually I feel like I’m in a dream or maybe a nightmare. Perhaps we should’ve talked about this sooner, but he’s laying so much on me at once I feel like the walls are closing in.
“Excuse me.” I take my plate and stand. “I’m going to shower and get ready for the day.”
As I rinse my dish, Robert comes up behind me and brushes the hair off my neck, then moves it to one shoulder while he massages my muscles.
“Darling, you’re tense,” he whispers, then places a sweet kiss on my cheek. “The longer we ride out this engagement, the more stressed you’ll be. I’ll call Winnie and have her reschedule everything for November. We’ll have a beautiful fall wedding.”
My eyes widen, and I swallow hard. November? “That’s only three months away. Most venues book out at least a year in advance.” It was a miracle we managed to get our dream location for the date we picked. If I remember correctly, they were booked through the rest of the year.
Robert rubs his hands down my arms, then squeezes. “With enough money, I can secure any venue in town. Don’t worry. I understand you were in love with the place we chose, but I’ve already looked into a few others, and they’d be honored to host it for us.”
“You did that without consulting me?” I tilt my head, feeling blindsided.
“Just made a couple of phone calls so we had options.”
“Surely, that’s not enough time to figure out all the details. The decorations, the flowers, the invites, my dress.”
“Sweetheart…” His voice lowers as he spins me around and tilts up my chin. “That’s why I hired a wedding planner. Let her worry about it. Just tell her what you want, and she’ll get it for you. There’s no budget when it comes to giving my bride what she wants.”
What I want is not to rush into walking down the aisle. I thought I had at least seven more months to prepare. My father loves Robert and the idea of us getting married so much he lights up anytime it’s mentioned. I know Daddy wants the absolute best for me, and I want nothing more than to make him happy and proud.
I inhale a deep breath. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure, dear. But not too long because I need to tell Winnie.”
I smile and nod as he leans in and kisses my cheek. “I won’t.”
After Robert walks out of the kitchen, I finish rinsing the other dishes, then load the dishwasher. I try to imagine myself living here and this being my home. I’d cook, clean, and raise our beautiful kids while trying to be the perfect wife for Robert.
Right now, it’s decorated for a man, not a family. It’s clean and modern, but it doesn’t feel homey. Certainly not like my cottage where I have pictures, candles, and throw pillows scattered on the furniture. He hired an interior designer after he built this house but never added any personality to it.
If we get married in three months, everything will change. I’ve barely wrapped my head around the date we set for next year and pushing it up sounds more stressful than waiting. Robert’s kind, and it’s obvious he has my best interests at heart. And while I love him, I’ve also been questioning if I’m in love with him. Though I’ve dated in the past, Robert was the first serious relationship I’ve had and the first guy I told I loved after Tyler left. I have strong feelings for him, and I care, but I wonder if that’s enough.
How do you know if what you’re feeling is love, lust, or infatuation?
Can you ever know for sure?
After I finished getting ready, I send Katie a text to see if she could hang out or rather, talk me off the ledge, and she was all for it. I stopped by the liquor store for margarita ingredients, then made my way there.
“Hey!” she greets as she whips open the door, then pulls me in for a hug. “You look so cute.”
“So do you, sexy mama.” I step inside and follow her to the kitchen. “I brought the goods.”
“Thank God, because honestly, I’m at my wits’ end. If I don’t drink some tequila, I might lose my shit.” She plugs in the blender and grabs the ice while I unload the bags.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Owen,” she says flatly. “He’s been acting out more than usual, and by the time I pick him up from my parents' after work, I’m exhausted, and he’s found his second wind.”
“Why do you think he’s acting out?” I pour the margarita mix and tequila into the blender.
“Well, I imagine it’s preteen hormones.”
“Already? He’s only nine.”
“I think so. He’s asked about his daddy since he was four. However, I get the feeling he’s bitter or envious he doesn’t have one and his friends do. He’s at that age where he needs a father figure, and nothing I say or do is good enough.”
“Oh no.” I frown.
After Gabe, her husband and my cousin, died and my brother, Noah, went to prison for the accidental homicide, her entire world was rocked. So was my family’s. In fact, the whole town was shocked. That was almost ten years ago, and she’s still picking up the pieces. Owen wasn’t born yet and has never met his father. Though Gabe wasn’t a great husband, I think he would’
ve been an amazing father. When he wasn’t drinking, he was a fun cousin to be around and always made me laugh. I miss him at times and wonder how different our lives would be if he were still alive.
“Yeah, so welcome to my pity party.” She starts the blender, and I grab two glasses. Once it’s done, she pours the liquid, giving us the same amount. “Your turn.” Katie smirks, then leads me to the patio where Owen’s playing with a friend on the trampoline.
“I have nothing to complain about, really.” I set my drink down and settle on the lounge chair with my legs stretched out. “It’s wedding jitters, I’m sure.”
“Already?” she asks, getting comfy in the chair next to me. “I thought the date wasn’t until March.”
“Robert wants to move it to November,” I explain.
She nearly spits out her margarita but quickly covers her mouth. “November? Why?”
I laugh at her shocked expression. “He thinks we’ve waited long enough and wants to make me his wife so we can move in together and start making babies. He was raised with traditional values, and the men and women in his family get married quickly and raise a family.”
“Whoa…that’s a lot to process.” She blinks, taking another sip. “What’d you say?”
“I told him I needed time to think about it. He put me on the spot. I haven’t even fully processed that we only have seven months left, so I was caught off guard.”
“Well, money isn’t the issue. That man will buy you anything you want,” she says with a grin. “So what’s holding you back?”
I shrug, not sure how to explain the mixed feelings I’m having. I adore his parents, and I know they love Robert and me together. I met them early in our relationship and his mother, Christine, gushed over all the grandchildren we’d give her. We try and meet them once a month for brunch on Sundays and she fills me in on all the gossip in her elite circle. After a while, she felt like the mother-figure I’ve been without for over twenty years. She’d be devastated if we split up, and truthfully, I would too. She’s the epitome of beauty and wealth, but she has a big heart and always invites me to her country club parties to socialize with their friends. Even though I get along well with his family, it can’t be the reason we rush to the altar if it doesn’t feel right.
“How’d you know you were in love with Gabe?”
She smiles briefly before the corners of her lips fall. “I just did. I was pretty damn smitten by him, but at first, it was high school puppy love. That first summer we spent together was like something you’d read in a Nicholas Sparks novel. We wanted to be around each other constantly. Day or night, no matter what, and our feelings blossomed so fast. He made me laugh a lot and looked at me like I was his whole world. Gabe was the first and only man I’ve ever loved. He could do no wrong, and as time passed, I was blinded to the issues we were having. Then we got married, and I got pregnant, and—”
“Yeah, I know,” I say softly and grab her hand when she doesn’t continue because that story doesn’t end happily.
“You get butterflies in the beginning, and then after a while, you fall into a comfortable routine. Happens to all relationships.” She takes a long swig of her drink. “I’m sure you two are just in a lull, and once the big day gets closer, you’ll be itching to walk down the aisle.”
I hope so because right now it feels like I’m settling for the kind of love that doesn’t excite me. On the other hand, Robert can take care of me the way my father wants. Robert isn’t a bad guy, but I wouldn’t be his only love. He’d be more married to his job than me. Hell, he already is.
“Yeah, probably.” Tipping my head back, I empty my glass.
“Speaking of Robert, do you think he’d be able to help me find some property?”
“You’re looking to buy a house?”
“Yep, I think it’s time. Owen needs a bigger yard and bedroom, and I need more space for me. But I need something in a decent neighborhood that I can afford, so I’m thinking it’ll have to be a fixer-upper. I thought maybe Robert would know of something or know someone who might.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold up my hand, amused. “You, Katie Walker, are going to remodel a house? I added way too much tequila.”
She chuckles and sticks out her tongue. “I’ve been watching plenty of tutorials online and remodeling TV shows, thank you very much. I might not be an expert, but I can follow directions, and well, if I completely fuck it up, I can call a contractor.”
Her Southern accent gets thicker as she drinks more, and I laugh. I’m guilty of it too. “I’m trying to imagine you in overalls with a tool belt, and I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Well, try harder, babe, because it’s happening. I’ll be tearing down walls, repairing floors, and installing sinks. Hell, I might get my own reality TV show by the end of it. Single mom renovates an old home. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“I think the booze has gone straight to your head.” Laughing, I grab our empty glasses, then head inside for refills.
“Make mine a double!” she calls from outside.
After I make another batch, I go back outside and hand hers over. “Take it easy now. It’s still the afternoon.”
“Oh, but it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“I’ll cheer to that.”
We hang out, gossip, and listen to music while watching Owen play. I realize how much I’ve missed just talking to a friend over drinks.
“Hey, Mom.” Owen rushes over, nearly out of breath.
I smile at his cute dimples and messy dark hair. He looks more like Gabe the older he gets. Though he’ll never be able to meet him, I know his father would be proud of him.
“What, babe?” Katie asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Can Austin and I ride bikes to the park?”
Katie puts a hand above her eyes to block out the sun as she ponders it. “Alright, but wear your helmet.”
“Mom.” He groans with an eye roll. “I’m too old to wear that.”
“Oh, really? You’re too old to get hit by a truck and get your brain smashed? I didn’t realize there was an age limit for that…”
“Fine, whatever.” He walks off with Austin behind him, and I laugh as soon as he’s out of view. The park isn’t too far, but Katie’s always been protective of her son. Considering what she’s gone through, I don’t blame her.
“You have your hands full. That’s for sure,” I tease, taking a big gulp.
“Hence why we’re drinking margaritas.” She finishes her second one. “But seriously, he’s a good kid. I wish the circumstances were different, and he had a dad, or even a male figure in his life to hang out with.”
Before I can think twice about it, I blurt out, “What about Tyler?”
“You want me to marry Tyler so he can have a dad?”
My eyes widen as I take in how tipsy Katie is, and then I burst out laughing. “No! I meant he could be Owen’s friend or whatever. I’m sure Tyler wouldn’t mind playing basketball or football with him. Like the Big Brothers program, except he’s not a stranger.”
“I know Tyler from high school. I don’t know Tyler after prison. He just moved back. Plus, I don’t want the first real conversation we have to be about him hanging out with my son.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely…changed.”
Turning toward me, she studies my face. “How are things going with him at the shop? Things seemed tense at the bar last weekend.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips. “It’s…interesting. After I made a fool of myself when he took me home, I can barely look at him,” I admit with shame.
“Whoa, what? You better spill the tea. Wait! We need another round.”
“No, no, no…”
“Yes! C’mon. Let’s get out of the sun before we turn into lobsters. Then I wanna hear all about it.”
Oh God. I groan and follow her into the house where I recap that night and blush at how embarrassing it was.
“Wow…” She smirks as we sit on the couch w
ith our third glass of margaritas. “I can’t believe you stripped down to your bra and panties. What do you think would’ve happened if he’d stayed the night?”
My cheeks heat at the number of times I’ve thought of that same thing over the past week. “I should’ve never asked…” I shake my head, unable to finish. “Anyway, now it’s awkward, and I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. I’m sure him being here is confusing, considering you’ve had feelings for him since you were a teenager. Even more now that you see him every day at work.”
I nod with a frown. “I feel like a piece of shit. I’m engaged to another man, but still think about Tyler, even after he broke my heart. After all the years I waited for him, there’s still that what-if in the back of my mind that I can’t let go.”
Katie leans over and wraps her arm around me, pulling me in for a hug. “Only you know what your heart is feeling, and only you can decide what you want. Follow your gut because if I had done that ten years ago, everything would be different.”
Chapter Eleven
TYLER
It’s officially my second week of working at Reid’s Garage, and I enjoy the solitude when I’m focused on a task. I’ve always been good with my hands and figuring out how to fix things, but lately, I’ve been distracted. My head’s still spinning with thoughts of Gemma. I can’t stop thinking about how she flirted with me after I took her home last Friday. It doesn’t help that I hear her sweet humming all day at work.
She walks around the shop and into the break room, avoiding my gaze. I’m starting to get used to it even though I wish she’d just forget about it so we can move on from the awkward tension.
Today’s the second day in a row she’s worn a tight pencil skirt and low-cut blouse to work. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to kill me or at the very least give me blue balls.
“Tyler,” Jerry calls as I wash the grease off my hands. He walks over to me, then slaps a hand on my shoulder. “You have lunch plans today?”