by Piper Rayne
I offer her a small smile that I hope conveys how sorry I feel for her. Grabbing a pen and paper, I scribble down my number. “Call me if you need to talk.”
She puts it in her purse. “Thank you. Do you want to talk about Colton getting married?”
That’s like opening one of those cans of slinky snakes and a million silky fabric-covered coils flying up in your face. Then again, I can’t really talk to my sisters, because I know what their advice will be. Break up his engagement. But Stella understands how horrible it is to love a man enough to want his happiness over your own. It’s the reason she disappeared all those years ago.
Still, I feel like a boat lost at sea and all these lighthouses are shining to guide me to shore, but I have no idea which way is the best way to go. Who’s to say I won’t end up following the wrong light and end up on an island all by myself?
“No. Not yet.”
Her hand covers mine and she smiles as though she’s saying touché. “I get it, but at some point, you have to face that you’ll no longer be the first woman in his life. Are you ready for that?”
I shrug.
She squeezes my hand again before stealing the pen and writing her name on a napkin. “You can call me anytime.”
We say goodbye and I get in my car, hammering a text to Colton to ask if it’s okay that I come over. Brigette could be over there. He tells me he’s up and to come right over.
Here goes nothing.
Sixteen
Colton
* * *
I answer the door to find Juno standing on the porch. Usually she slides past me with a brief hello and a long story of what just happened to her because something weird always happens to Juno. I figured she’d be talking nonstop about Stella’s reappearance before I opened the door all the way. But she’s just silent and stands there.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask, stepping to the side.
She looks me over. “Are you alone?” She clears her throat. “I mean, is Brigette here?”
I narrow my eyes. “No.”
“Phew. Okay.” Now she slides by me. “I realized when I knocked that I can’t just barge in anymore. I’ll have to ring the bell so I don’t interrupt the newlyweds.”
I shut the front door and ignore the squeeze of my heart at her comment. “How was the speed dating thing?”
She shrugs, burying her head in my fridge. “It was okay but made a decent amount of money. I feel like I should pay Kingston a portion. Almost every guy there was a first responder of some kind.”
“And Stella?” I ask, sitting on my breakfast stool and watching her pick up takeout boxes to smell the contents.
She peeks out of the fridge. “She wants me to keep it a secret that I saw her.” She clenches her jaw in an ‘eek’ expression. Juno and secrets don’t always mix. “She’s not ready to see him.”
She shuts the fridge and opens an orange chicken container from Wok For U, moving over to my silverware drawer to grab a fork.
“Want me to heat it up for you?”
She waves me off. “I just need to eat something fast. My stomach is crazy right now and I think if I eat, I might not throw up.” A piece of chicken rests in front of her lips. “How was your ride? Truck okay?” Then she puts the piece of chicken in her mouth and chews.
“Thankfully, yes.” I steal the fork from her container, pierce my own piece of cold chicken, and eat it. “My truck is now parked in the garage, but Ethel demanded they drop me off first and take my truck with them. I ended up calling Duke Thompson to drive them back home.”
“She’s just being cautious,” she says.
“I took one for the team. What do I get in return?”
She laughs, but it’s her nervous laugh. Something’s up with her. She only eats for fear of throwing up when she has to tell someone something she doesn’t want to. Like the time she had to tell Savannah she scratched her car when she borrowed it. Or when she told me that she did go home with Trey. She ate an entire container of fried rice before finally admitting that to me.
“What’s up, Juno?”
She looks up with those doe eyes as though I’m a hunter with an arrow pointed at her. “Why do you think something’s up?” she mumbles around her food.
I say nothing but give her the look.
She takes the fork from me and places it in the sink, packages up the orange chicken, and puts it away. Hopefully, whatever it is isn’t a big deal. Because when she tells me whatever it is she has to, I want to tell her that I understand this whole situation is weird and uncomfortable, but we’ll eventually get back on track. Even if it’s three years from now when I divorce Brigette.
Grabbing a water, she unscrews the top then gulps down half the bottle like she just finished working out. She puts the water down and her gaze falls to the counter. “Can we not talk about big things, your wedding included, tonight? I kind of miss us and want to just chill.”
My shoulders fall. She’s right. We haven’t hung out in a long time. Like since before I announced the engagement. Maybe all this craziness with us is because we miss one another. “Definitely. Want to binge something?”
She smiles and rounds the counter toward my family room. “Yeah. I’d love that.” She grabs the remote and turns on my television, scrolling through Netflix. “What has Colton been watching lately?” She presses on my name instead of hers because yes, we share a Netflix account. “Documentary city. You need some comedy in your life.”
I join her on the couch, stretching my legs on the ottoman between us. She does the same but on the opposite side of the couch. We’ve done this millions of times. Sometimes she’s even fallen asleep with her head in my lap. One time when I fell during a soccer game, she made me stay up all night to make sure I didn’t have a concussion. I woke up the next morning and we were somehow entangled together. Her head on my stomach and my arm around her back, my boner straining my track pants. She didn’t let me live that one down for years.
“How about this?” The yellow box on the screen is around a chick flick. “It’s supposed to be funny.”
“Fine.” I don’t have the heart to argue with her because I’m just happy she’s here. “Just so we’re clear, that’s two you owe me now.” I hold up two fingers.
She laughs, clicking on the button. “Okay, after this movie, I’ll watch two of your boring documentaries.”
She leans back, and I stand and turn off the lights so we can watch in darkness.
Fifteen minutes into the classic rom-com movie where two people hate one another but are secretly in love, Juno pauses the movie. “Did you see that popcorn? Let’s make some.”
“I need to find a movie where they don’t eat,” I say.
She stands from the couch. “You love recreating the food from movies.”
“Eh.”
“What about that time we made the sandwich from Spanglish? I didn’t hear any complaints then.” She’s got me, but I never would’ve made the sandwich if she wasn’t rewinding the movie and watching it fifty times over.
“The tiramisu from No Reservations was a pain in the ass.”
She grabs the microwave popcorn from my cabinet and takes it out of the plastic bag. I love how comfortable we are in each other’s space. “Yeah, we’ll leave that to Rome now.”
We both laugh.
She punches the buttons on my microwave and slides up on the counter. “It’s not going to be the same. We should buy a popcorn maker if we want it to look like that.”
“That’s stretching it kind of far.” I pull out chocolate chips and drop them on the counter. Her eyes light up. “What about the Pulp Fiction cheeseburger?”
That might’ve been the best thing ever.
Her head falls back. “Ah, don’t remind me because I’m going to drag you to the grocery store right now to buy the ingredients.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“Tell me, Mr. I Don’t Like to Recreate Foods from Movies, which would you choose, the cheeseburger f
rom Pulp Fiction or the huevos rancheros from Wolf of Wall Street?”
I grab a bowl and put it in Juno’s lap before taking the popcorn out of the microwave and shaking it into the bowl. “That’s a hard one. I guess as long as the food doesn’t talk, I’ll take any of the meals.”
She kicks me in the thigh and I back away, laughing. When we were nine, we watched Shrek and Juno refused to eat gingerbread men or women. She even put a tray of them that her mom made on the back porch to be set free.
“It’s not funny.” She hops down from the counter and stares at the bowl of popcorn. “This isn’t going to cut it.”
I shake my head, already knowing Juno well enough to know she won’t be satisfied until she gets her fix. Grabbing my keys off the counter, I jiggle them in my hand. “What are we going for?”
She bites her lip and her classic smirk emerges.
“The Chef’s pasta?” I ask.
She nods.
“At least you chose something fairly easy.”
We file into my truck and I back out, past her car, onto the street. She fiddles with the radio.
“Hold up, turn that back,” I say, and she does.
“Oh, I like this one too.” She relaxes back in the seat.
As “Get to You” by Michael Ray plays on the radio, we drive through the dark streets of Lake Starlight to the town’s outskirts, where there’s one grocery store open until midnight. I’m surprised Juno likes this song because the lyrics sound a lot like her. Although she’s lived her life in Lake Starlight, she runs away from any sort of commitment or emotions. Sometimes I wish it were as easy as taking a pin to pop her bubble to make her realize what she’s missing out on.
“Are you even gonna be hungry once we get home?” I ask as we climb out of the truck and enter the desolate grocery store.
She grabs a cart and pushes it, riding it until it stops right before it runs into a bin of potatoes. “When am I not hungry?” She steers the cart to the greens area to find the parsley. “What else do we need?”
“Just the pasta and fresh garlic. I have everything else.” I grab three bulbs of garlic.
She diverts to the bakery section, picking up a pack of cookies.
Midway through aisles we don’t need to be looking at, I pick up a ball that’s on a display and throw it at her ass, but she doesn’t retaliate. She barely even reacts.
“What’s the matter?” I lean in close after putting the ball back in the rack.
She shrugs and I follow her line of vision to the flower department.
“What flowers did you guys pick out?” she asks.
“I thought we weren’t talking about the wedding?” I can’t even answer her because Brigette did that by herself.
“Things are going to change. This might be our last time making food from movies. I mean, I guess we could do it with her.” The tone in her voice says that’s not really an option.
I desperately want to tell Juno the truth, so she knows not much has to change. I mean, Brigette will be living with me, but we’re not a real couple. Juno wouldn’t be the third wheel. But if I tell Juno, I’m putting myself and Brigette at risk. Not that I think Juno would tell anyone, but sometimes secrets slip. This one is better off staying between the people who have the most to lose if it comes out.
“Nothing is going to change,” I say.
She huffs. Yeah, I don’t believe me either.
“Come on. Let’s enjoy tonight. Remember?” I knock her shoulder with mine.
She nods. “It’s just hard. You’re right. I was stupid to think we’d just be best friends until we grew old.”
I can’t do this anymore. I have to tell her. I place my hand on hers. “Juno.”
Her eyes meet mine, and they look so sad. I’m definitely making the right decision. “What?”
“Surprise!” Rome jumps out in front of our cart. “What are you two crazy kids doing at the grocery store this late?”
We look in his arms to find Little Debbie brownies, a carton of ice cream, and three of the balls I just threw at Juno.
“More like what are you doing?” Juno asks. “Harley having cravings?”
He nods. “Yeah, and it has to be the Little Debbie’s with the walnuts on top, not the candy things. But the kids like the candy ones, so I have to buy both. And I’m trying not to be offended that she never craves what I can make her. I mean, shouldn’t that be the benefit of being married to a chef?”
Juno laughs because we know how Rome is about his cooking. Calista and Dion still like the instant mac n’ cheese over his authentic homemade version. “Well, you can make brownies for me.”
Rome looks in our cart. “What are you guys making? Spaghetti, garlic, and parsley?”
“Ever seen The Chef? We’re making the pasta from it.”
Rome pulls out his phone and searches for the clip on YouTube then stares at us. “Is this what gets you guys all hot?”
Juno slaps him on the arm. “Rome!”
“I’m offended you didn’t come to me. I can cook this a helluva lot better than the two of you.” He dumps his things into our cart. “Come on. Harley will love it too. We’ll get more. I’m cooking tonight.”
We share a look behind his back.
“Isn’t it late?” Juno asks.
“I’m a chef. I’m used to being up late. Plus, Harley has insomnia with this pregnancy. She’ll appreciate the company.”
Before I can argue, we’re leaving the grocery store and heading to Rome’s house. So much for my last night with Juno.
Seventeen
Juno
* * *
The day has come. The day I lose my best friend.
Dodging Colton until his wedding day was easier than I thought. He only stopped by my office once, and I ventured out of my way to never pass Four Paws, even convincing Calista to go to a park farther away so he wouldn’t see me outside. Brigette hasn’t messaged me, so she must have decided the double dating thing isn’t a good idea.
After checking with Brigette to make sure it was okay to bring Jason, he agreed to be my date for the wedding, but I think after tonight, I’ll tell him we’re probably better off as friends. The spark just isn’t there. If I’m lucky, he’ll still hire me to find someone for him.
We walk the path next to Cozy Cottage B&B and I spot Harley talking with the owner, Selene, by the back door, the kids hovering around. Rome is catering the event, so he’s busy under a great big white tent, telling servers to be ready because the meal will come right after the ceremony.
The path along Selene’s garden is beautiful with spring in full bloom. The flowers aren’t overgrown, some looking like new buds just now coming to life. The bridal arch is decorated with an array of peach and pastel flowers with limited greenery. There are a few short rows of white chairs. With Brigette’s family not coming, they kept the ceremony small.
“It’s beautiful,” I softly say to myself. I expected nothing less. Brigette’s taste is exquisite.
There are no ushers, but halfway down the aisle, Mrs. Stone spots me and makes her way over.
“Juno,” she says, taking my hands. Her gaze shifts to Jason and back to me. “Come check on the groom with me?”
“Um.” I look at Jason, but he just smiles. “Jason, this is Colton’s mom, Mrs. Stone.”
“Macy.” She holds out her hand. “This girl was supposed to be my daughter-in-law and I still can’t get her to call me Macy.”
Jason’s eyebrows rise to his hairline and I don’t blame him.
“Mrs. Stone, I was never going to marry Colton,” I whisper.
She pats my hand. “Oh, you know what I mean. You were always so close, people assumed. I hoped.” She puts her hand over her heart.
Great. This is the last thing I need to get through today.
“Come. You don’t mind, do you, Jason? We’ll only be a moment.”
Mrs. Stone should team up with Grandma Dori. They’d be a power couple in getting people to go along with their agenda
s.
“Not at all. I’ll save your seat,” Jason says.
I smile graciously. “Thank you.”
We walk back down the aisle the way I came, Austin and Holly watching me from the corner of their eyes. I see they didn’t bring Easton.
“Juno.” Harley stops to say hello right before we’re about to walk into the house.
Selene starts talking to Mrs. Stone about how the bride’s room and the groom’s room are on opposite floors, that she put Colton in her painting room to make sure of it.
“Where are you going?” Harley whispers.
“Aunt Juno. Aunt Juno!” Dion jumps up and down in front of me, grabbing at my dress. I take his hands before he ruins it.
“Dion,” Harley scolds and he stares up at me with a look like I got him in trouble.
“Mrs. Stone wants me to check on Colton.” I give Harley the look that suggests I should not see him. It’s bad enough I have to witness him getting married. I’d shut my eyes and plug my ears like a child during the ceremony if I could.
“Good luck,” Harley says.
As I’m giving her a “yeah right” expression, Stella’s head pop out of the stairway. What the hell?
“What’s up, Dion?” Kingston rounds the corner.
Dion runs over to him. He’s the fun uncle. Kingston picks him up and twirls him around. My little brother is in a suit and looks way too grown-up. When did he get so old and where is that little boy with the mop of brown hair who sulked in the corner all the time?
“Come on, I heard they have bubbles,” he whispers to Calista and Phoebe at his legs.
All three cheer and follow him as if he’s Santa Claus.
“Kingston, those are for after,” Selene yells, hearing everything even if she’s distracted by someone else.
“Only a few, Mrs. Harrison.” He winks.
I turn back to see Selene smiling at him as if he’s her own.