Matt reached over to take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, but Rory could barely smile at him as she slid away to climb out of the car. Danny held the cruiser door for her, and she reluctantly met his eyes.
“Rory,” he spoke very seriously, almost confidentially, “you have to be more careful.”
Nodding her head up and down, she bit her bottom lip, feeling like she might cry. And Danny let her go, never clarifying.
Should she be more careful not to trespass, be careful not to get caught outside in a bad storm, or be careful not to engage in underage, unprotected sex?
Or maybe he simply meant with his little brother’s heart.
NINE
Rory drifted along the harbor wall, gazing out at the blue ocean, while other guests sipped on Nantucket Reds in their summer whites. Faint strains of music rolled down the grassy green hill to crash into the foamy spray of the surf, broken by the staccato cry of seagulls as the sun bounced bright off the water.
And it was official. She was in hell.
It was a bigger turnout than she could have expected, if she ever expected it at all. Despite the fact she grew up in this small town, she was surprised to not recognize many faces. It finally dawned on Rory that this was mostly Amanda’s contingent.
They seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, too—small ones, tall ones, big ones, little ones. And for the past two hours, she’d watched her drag him from group to group, making introductions and small talk—small talk, tall talk, big talk, little talk.
Okay, so she was also a bit drunk.
It wasn’t really her fault. Confounded by doubt and anxiety, she meant to arrive fashionably late but instead wound up here embarrassingly early. She regretted her decision to go with the O’Shea brothers almost immediately, since as soon as they got here there was talk of some combined family photo on the great lawn. Rory really, really didn’t want to have to bear witness to that.
Thankfully, to her great relief, the bartender was setting up under the rented tent out back and had a few bottles of champagne on ice. She quickly made him her new best friend.
Danny and Kevin were now somewhere in the family crowd under the shade of the wide veranda porch, but she didn’t go join them. At any other event, they would all have great fun trading old stories and swapping jokes at Matt’s expense. But today wasn’t just any other event, and somehow she just didn’t have the heart for it.
Leaning back against the stone wall, she smoothed a hand down the light fabric of her short sun dress. She’d purchased an insanely overpriced pair of dainty heels at a new boutique downtown to wear with it, and now her feet were crying for mercy. Tomorrow they would be tossed to the back of her closet, never to be worn again, and she’d be paying off the credit card bill for months.
She didn’t know why she always did the things that she’d only regret.
The wind ruffled the water and she shivered slightly, feeling exposed even while basking in the glow of the sun. She brushed the windswept hair from her eyes to watch Amanda work her party from afar. She wore a sleeveless sheath, a dress style she seemed to favor, and as she talked, one hand continually drifted up to play with her earring. She found reason to toss her head back in laughter a little too often, and not once would she unlock her other hand from Matt’s arm.
Rory supposed she could see the attraction. She just never knew he liked them monotonous, nervous, and insecure.
She retracted the claws of her inner cattiness, wondering if she only imagined him to look so uncomfortable right now, and then she wondered if it had been too long for her to even presume. Not really being in the mood to delve into any deep examination of feelings right now (most especially not her own) Rory decided to just get another drink.
Halfway across the lawn, she heard her name and turned to see a vaguely familiar person smiling at her.
“It’s Tara,” she explained, pretty and petite with a loose spray of brown curls. “We lived in the same dorm freshman year, remember?”
Placed within the context of that leafy city campus, recognition dawned.
“Oh, yes, right. Hello.”
“And this is my friend Bethany.” She gestured towards the pale blonde to her right.
“Nice to meet you.” Rory managed a smile, having come today armed with all the necessary social graces and survival skills.
“Amazing party, right?” Tara continued. “Amanda really lucked out on the weather. This is such a beautiful place.”
Rory followed her gaze to the water. The harbor was the same endless view she had known all her life. Yet today, somehow, it looked different. It pained her face to keep the smile so firmly in place, and she hoped they didn’t notice when it slipped a little.
“You both know Amanda?”
“Yes, since high school. Our parents are all good friends. And how do you know each other?”
“We don’t—know each other, I mean.” She caught the tight, jagged edge in her curt tone and immediately attempted to smooth it out. “Or at least we didn’t, until recently. I’m actually a family friend of the O’Shea’s. I grew up here in town, with Matt.”
This simple statement of fact belied such a long and complex history it almost made it sound like another blatant fabrication.
“Oh, really? Well, we think Matt’s adorable. And so funny! I can just imagine him as a kid—always up to no good, I bet.”
They both laughed and Rory was able to relax her smile, easing it into a more genuine curve. Most who met Matt couldn’t help but be charmed and entertained, and she knew what she should be remembering is all his mischievous and hilarious childhood pranks. Instead, she saw him at sixteen, sneaking her away late at night to the beach under the stars.
“Lucky for me, Matt is a grown-up now,” said a voice from behind.
Startled, defenses down, Rory turned to find herself face-to-face with the enemy.
“Hello, Rory.”
She quickly regrouped, assuming the same careful, reserved tone. “Hello, Amanda.”
Up close, she was struck by the near flawless porcelain sheen of her skin, even in broad daylight, and resisted the urge to touch a hand to the faint dusting of gold freckles across her own nose. Amanda’s dark, sleek bob was pushed behind her ears, revealing two diamond solitaires. Under her long, sun-washed hair, Rory’s ears were bare. So, of course, was her finger.
“Do boys ever really grow up?” posed Bethany with a grin. “Or did you just get lucky?”
Rory felt the prickly heat of defensiveness rise, a conditioned reflex she couldn’t quite control. ”Well, you might think so,” she blurted out, answering for her. “But that’s a good question. Do they really?”
“I’m pretty confident I’m marrying a grown-up,” Amanda stated with just the faintest hint of a self-satisfied smirk. “Maybe some keep their things, their toys. Like my dad with his weekly golf game, or Matt with his boat. But the rest, those dalliances of youth? Trust me, those are long behind him.”
“I don’t really think Matt would categorize his boat as a toy,” Rory said, even when she knew she shouldn’t. She’d lost her virginity on that boat one summer night, floating on a sea of stars. She probably shouldn’t say that either.
He was her first. Then again, he was all her firsts.
Amanda rolled her eyes in a way that was most likely meant to be cute. “By the way, did Rory happen to mention she was Matt’s high school sweetheart?” she asked the others before turning to her with a quizzical tilt of her head. “Or were you just, like, a crush? I don’t think we talked about that when we met the other day, and I can’t quite get the story straight from him.”
“I don’t know. Maybe—like—dalliance is the word you’re looking for.”
From their stricken faces, Rory suspected her sarcastic humor must have accidently misfired and killed the conversation. Tara, to her credit, made a valiant attempt to revive it.
“So, Amanda, what are your bridesmaids’ dresses like?”
“They’re s
trapless,” she replied, narrowing her gaze at Rory before dismissing her altogether, “in a shade of lavender. Definitely something they can wear again.”
“Oh, good for you,” Bethany said. “Two of my friends are getting married this year and I’m in both their weddings. I’m going to go broke.”
“Maybe the trick is to surround yourself with people who are unable to commit,” Rory tried to joke again. “I guess I’m lucky that none of my friends are getting married yet.”
“Well, except Matt, of course,” Amanda said pointedly.
She hesitated, almost stunned. Perhaps, however, she’d been asking for this little bitch-slap of reality.
“Right. Um, I think I’m going to head on over to the bar now,” she said, lifting her empty champagne glass. “Can I get anyone anything?”
“All set.”
“No, thank you.”
Rory was aware of the possibility that the comment wasn’t meant to slight her in any way, but that theory was merely speculative. For the moment, she preferred to stick with her baseless suspicions that Amanda was actually an evil and calculating succubus sent here for the sole purpose of destroying her life.
She wandered over to the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish serving those in front of her.
“Having fun yet?”
Rory glanced back to notice a fairly attractive stranger waiting as well. His handsome grin dipped into a slight frown when he saw her face.
“Or maybe not?”
She caught herself, shaking her head with an uncertain laugh. “I’m sorry. I, ah—I’m sort of somewhere in the middle, I guess.”
At that moment, the bartender noticed her and, without having to ask, refilled her champagne. Maybe Rory should just marry him.
“Not really having fun, but not having a bad time, either?” the stranger offered as he got his own drink.
She took a delicate sip. “Something like that.”
“Well, my name is Todd. If you think of anything I can do to sway you in either direction, just let me know. I’ll be right over here.” He inclined his head towards a small group of well-dressed guests congregating on the lawn a few yards away.
“I’ll do that.”
Her smile faded just as soon as he walked away, and she ran a hand through her long hair, wishing for an easy way to just disappear.
It was then, however, that she heard a familiar voice in her ear, washing over her with its warmth yet sending shivers down her spine at the same time. Like being tossed about in the waves, her stomach flipped, and she was left briefly struggling to regain breath and balance.
“Can I ask why Amanda’s friends are suddenly staring at me right now and whispering to each other?”
“Well, you did dress yourself this morning.” She maintained her cool, and took another sip of champagne.
Matt chuckled rather ruefully, moving around to face her. “So, it has nothing to do with the fact you were just over there with them?”
“And what are you insinuating?”
He only shrugged a shoulder in response. Rory glanced away, feeling it was safer to avoid direct eye contact at all costs. Her new friend Todd looked over from his group at the same time, giving her another charming smile. She returned it with a slight nod.
Matt paused in lifting his beer to his mouth, his gaze traveling between them.
“Well, well, well…look at you with the flirting.”
“That’s not flirting,” she replied haughtily. “That was simply a common gesture of acknowledgement.”
“For some, yes, perhaps,” he agreed with a tilt his head and a low chuckle of laughter. “But for you? That’s flirting.”
She only responded with a slight roll of her eyes and started walking.
He followed—like she secretly, foolishly hoped he would.
While shopping downtown earlier that morning, she’d bumped into several people she hadn’t seen in years, including Mrs. Mitchell, a particularly unpleasant former nosy neighbor she failed to avoid (despite her best attempts). After a couple of brief comments about how much she had grown and changed, Rory was forced to hear all about that O’Shea boy she used to always be running around with—how handsome he grew up to be, how well he was doing for himself at such a young age, how he used to ‘look at you like you hung the moon’ and that she must be ‘kicking herself for letting that one go’.
She could assure Mrs. Mitchell she felt every bruise.
“Hey, it’s not like I don’t know what I’m talking about,” Matt continued.
“That’s good. Because it’s not like anyone else does.”
“All I’m saying is that it’s not like some of that hasn’t been thrown my way in the past.” He arched his brow to emphasize his meaning.
“If anything was ever thrown your way?” she murmured sarcastically. “It was obviously very large, very heavy and struck you directly upon the head.”
He was in the middle of a swig of beer and almost choked a little on his laugh. Recovering, he regarded her with a teasing grin. “And what does your boyfriend think of you spending your summer vacation brazenly coming on to other men? Doesn’t he know not to let you and all your wanton ways out of his sight?”
Rory almost laughed at this, because they both knew how comically inaccurate that description of her would be, but didn’t.
“Well, for one, he’s not exactly my boyfriend,” she corrected him before narrowing her eyes. “But what does your fiancée think of the fact that you’ve obviously developed such an alarming drug problem?”
It seemed Matt was no longer interested in playing along. In fact, he almost seemed on the verge of irritation.
“Why do you do that? Why do you keep trying to claim he’s not your boyfriend, when the guy obviously is?”
“What’s it to you?” she countered.
He gave her a heavy-eyed look in response. “I think we can safely say we’ve reached the place where you can tell me the truth about the guys you date.”
“You want the truth?” Rory sighed, knowing he definitely couldn’t handle it. So she just gave him a version of it. “I’m ending things with Jonathan, okay? It’s pretty much over. I just sort of need to tell him that, however, so that’s why I haven’t said it. And I’d appreciate it if that stayed between us until I do.”
Matt blinked once, and looked like he needed a minute to absorb this information.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, really. It was never anything serious to begin with.”
“Well, it was serious enough for you to go away with him for Christmas instead of coming home to see your family,” he said, frowning in distraction. “I guess I just assumed that you…”
“That I what?” She glanced at him with a curious scowl. “Because now you’re starting to sound like my mother.”
Matt only averted his eyes. He looked a little pale all of a sudden.
“Hey—here you guys are!”
Kevin suddenly appeared with Joshua. He clasped a hand on his brother’s shoulder and, though he spoke with his usual gentle humor, Rory detected a mild note of warning.
“Lots of people are looking for you. You coming back to join the party or what?”
It wasn’t until then she realized they had wandered rather far off from the main festivities. She supposed it wouldn’t look very good, and knew all about keeping up appearances.
“Oh, right,” Matt mumbled, glancing at her. “I probably should, um—”
“Go,” Rory finished for him, but softened it with a faint smile.
As she watched him walk away, Kevin grinned over at her.
“Rory, you remember Joshua?”
She forced up the edges of her smile. “Hi, Joshua.
“Hi, Rory.”
“Can we buy you a drink?” Kevin offered.
She lifted the champagne to her mouth and tilted her head back to finish off the entire glass before passing it over to him without a word.
“I’ll take that as a yes,�
� he said, lightly resting his hand on her back to guide her. “Come on.”
They hadn’t gotten too far when he hesitated.
“Wait. Slight detour. There’s someone over here we should say hello to.”
An elderly woman with powder white hair sat alone at a table placed in the shade of a tree, close to the paned glass doors that led into the house.
“Well, hello there. Enjoying yourself?” Kevin lifted his voice in the way people tend to do with the elderly.
“Oh, hello.” The woman smiled up at him. “You’re one of the brothers, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m Kevin,” he nodded. “This is Joshua, and this is Rory Finn.” He glanced towards them. “Mrs. Benson is Amanda’s grandmother.”
“Hello,” Joshua greeted her with a gracious little bow.
“Nice to meet you.” Rory echoed, briefly wondering what the ratio was between how many times she’d said that today and how many times she actually meant it.
“I was just on my way to the bar. Can I get you anything? A refill on your punch, maybe?” Kevin offered kindly, noticing the empty glass on the table.
“Oh, that would be lovely. Thank you.” She lifted a shaky hand to pass it to him.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Let me help you with those,” Joshua offered, going with him.
Rory glanced after them, her polite smile instantly fading to notice Matt was only a few feet away. He was talking with another assorted group of Amanda’s relatives, but his attention seemed focused her way. It was almost as if he’d followed them.
Didn’t he have better things to do at his engagement party than stalk her?
“Such a nice boy. So considerate,” Mrs. Benson was saying. “Have you been together long?”
“Me?” Rory touched her hand to her chest, and then smiled patiently to explain. “Oh, Kevin and I are not together.”
“Oh, really? You make such a nice looking young couple.”
“Well, thanks.” Her voice dipped into some wry humor. “But unfortunately I can’t quite compete with Joshua.”
“What was that?” The elderly woman leaned forward a little in her chair.
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