Wedding Belles: A Novel in Four Parts

by Melanie Jacobson

  But if more guys like Max were out there, then someday she might be ready for love again. Someday . . .

  Chapter Two

  From the first moment he’d seen the photographer, Max had wanted to know her. He’d been watching her take picture after picture the entire day, trying to work up the courage to introduce himself. Then, once he had the chance, he’d bungled it. Now he was on his way to being remembered as the babysitting groomsman instead of the hot groomsman.

  Or nice . . . he’d take nice.

  He saw her now at the edge of the dance floor, her camera obscuring most of her face except for her mouth. She chewed her bottom lip when she concentrated. He’d seen her teeth go to her lip every time she took a picture. Why that had endeared her to him he didn’t know, but he couldn’t keep from watching to see if she’d do it again whenever she reached for her camera.

  “Spin me again, Max!” Hadley yelled above the music. He’d spun her about a million times and should have been tired of it, but every time she giggled he saw her mother’s smile. He wondered if Hadley’s laugh matched her mother’s too.

  Her mother. Max still didn’t know her name. The smooth way she maneuvered around giving it to him hadn’t escaped his attention. She was smart, but also afraid. He saw that maternal fear as she clung to Hadley even when she didn’t have her hand, watching him with her from across the room. Fear made her protective, but not scared. Everything about her—from her dark cropped hair to the black cocktail dress she wore in a sea of floral—screamed I am not a victim.

  Max didn’t know what drove her fear, but he guessed it was a man. As a prosecuting attorney, he’d worked with countless women who had been in and out of abusive relationships. They all put up invisible barriers whenever a man came within ten feet of them. Their shoulders tensed, or their posture stiffened, or they clenched their fists. Every woman did something different, but there was always some slight physical shift given as an instinctual warning to stay away. Like a skittish horse with its ears flicking back and forth looking for a source of danger.

  He respected those barriers. He respected her for not offering him her name the moment they met, but her secrecy didn’t make him want to know it any less. Her secrecy didn’t make him want to know her any less. If anything, his desire to know her and her story had only increased. He wanted to help her feel safe again, even if that meant keeping his distance.

  The dance music faded into a slow song, and suddenly the woman who’d fascinated him from afar stood by his side.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” she said and took Hadley’s hand.

  “No problem.” Max stepped back to make space for Hadley’s mom. “We had a great time.”

  “I want to keep dancing!” Hadley took Max’s hand and pulled away from her mom. “You dance with Max,” she said and pushed her toward him.

  “I don’t think—”

  “I’d love to dance with you.” He held up his hand and waited for her to take it before lightly resting his other hand on her back. Hadley wrapped an arm around each of their waists, forcing them to step closer to each other.

  Their eyes met, and she let out a breath of a laugh.

  “She knows how to get what she wants, doesn’t she?” Max asked.

  “You have no idea.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. When her eyes fluttered back open he saw they were blue. From far away they looked so dark he couldn’t tell. But this close, they were cobalt, same as the Smoky Mountains.

  She looked down and a silence fell between them that he wanted to fill with all the questions he had about her. He resisted the urge. He liked the feeling of having her close.

  “My name is Sutton, by the way. I don’t think I told you that.”

  “Sutton.” He liked the sound of it. Liked the way she said it; softly, despite the hard syllables. Like she felt comfortable enough to let down her tough exterior. “Nice to meet you.”

  She took a breath and he felt her shoulders relax. “Thanks again for your help with Hadley.”

  “She’s a great kid.” He glanced at the dancing girl and wanted to ask about her. Where was her father? Did Hadley know him? Sutton didn’t have a ring on her finger and judging from the way Hadley kept pushing him and Sutton closer, her mother and her father weren’t still together.

  “What did you find out about Deacon and Dahlia?” he asked instead.

  “Nobody knows where she is, but everything is paid for, so Camellia said the show must go on. At least, I think that’s what she said. It sounds like something she’d say.” Sutton smiled, and Max moved to create some space between them because that smile made him want to pull her closer. To be honest, that smile had him thinking he’d like to kiss her.

  He cleared his throat and asked, “How do you know Dahlia?”

  “High school. We got to be friends after she transferred from Ashley Hall to Porter-Gaud. I was a scholarship kid and she was a new kid, so we were both kind of outsiders.”

  “You know Deacon too then?”

  “Not really. Dahlia and I didn’t run in the same social circles outside of school. She lived in Charleston proper and I . . . didn’t.” Sutton bit her lip, but then her face brightened. “We were each other’s support system at school though. I don’t think either one of us would have made it through without the other.”

  “Were you surprised she ran?”

  Sutton considered his question, then slowly shook her head. “She didn’t tell me anything, but it’s Dahlia, so nothing really surprises me. I love her, but she has a blind spot the size of Texas when it comes to recognizing she’s not the center of the universe.”

  “That’s God’s honest truth.” Max slipped into the North Carolina accent he’d worked hard to lose since moving to New York. “She knows how to fill a room even when she’s not in it.” He tipped his chin, and Sutton looked around the ballroom stuffed shoulder to shoulder with people there to celebrate Deacon and Dahlia.

  “How do you know her?” Sutton asked.

  “I don’t really. I was roommates with Deacon in college, so I only know her from the Skype sessions I couldn’t help but overhear on a nightly basis for four years.”

  “Every night?”

  Max nodded.

  “And you’re still friends with him?”

  “I’m nothing if not loyal,” he answered. “Or a glutton for punishment.”

  She made a noise that could have been a laugh if she’d let it, then pulled away from him as the song ended. But she didn’t leave, and Max didn’t want her to. A fast song started and Hadley danced between them, giving Max just the excuse he needed to stay. He followed Hadley’s crazy moves and Sutton joined in, finally letting him hear her laugh. The sound brought to mind the wind chimes and ocean breezes of the Outer Banks, musical and refreshing all at once.

  They danced through another three songs before Hadley pulled them both off the floor to find the “guys carrying around food.”

  “When do we get cake?” she asked.

  Max looked over Hadley’s head to Sutton who rolled her eyes at what Max could only assume was the ridiculousness of serving the wedding cake at a bride-less reception.

  “I don’t know if there’s going to be cake at this party, baby,” Sutton answered. At the same time, Max grabbed two flutes of champagne from a waiter passing by and handed one to her.

  “To Dahlia,” he said. “She knows how to throw a great party.”

  “To Dahlia,” Sutton replied and clinked her glass to his. He watched, admiring the line of her neck as she tipped her head back and drank.

  “Mama, I’m hungry.” Hadley wrapped her arms around Sutton’s waist and rested her forehead on her belly.

  “I’ve got to feed this girl. We’re at T minus three minutes until meltdown.” She untangled the flower crown from Hadley’s curls, then rubbed Hadley’s back. Sutton hadn’t asked for help with words, but Max could see the question in her eyes.

  “I’m on it,” he said. “Wait here, and I’ll find s
omething.”

  “No shellfish. She’s allergic.”

  “Got it.” He wheeled around ready to set out on his mission.

  “Oh, and no fish at all. She doesn’t like it,” she called, stopping him in his tracks.

  He turned to face her again. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Who would serve only seafood at a wedding reception?

  Dahlia. That’s who.

  Every appetizer he found was some Asian fusion version of shrimp cocktail, crab puff or scallop. The clock was ticking and any minute he expected to hear a wail of hunger coming from the spot where he’d left Sutton and Hadley. When he had less than thirty seconds left, he finally stopped a waiter.

  “Have you got anything a five-year-old will eat?” he asked.

  “Only if they like fish.” The waiter glanced back and forth, making sure no one could hear him. “But the chef’s in the kitchen. He might be able to help you out.”

  The waiter hustled away, offering appetizers to more than one wary guest, and Max returned to Sutton empty-handed and late. Hadley was in the beginning stages of her meltdown.

  “It’s all fish, shellfish or more fish.”

  “Ugh, I forgot,” Sutton moaned. “Dahlia’s vegetarian now. Deacon had to beg her to be pescatarian for the night.”

  Hadley let out a whimper. “I’m hungry!”

  Max scooped her up and put his fingers lightly on Sutton’s back. “Let’s find the kitchen. I’ve got top secret info the chef might be able to help us.”

  He guided her out of the room, hoping he’d guessed right about which hallway led to the kitchen. As he turned to try the opposite direction, a waiter emerged out of a door followed by the sounds of clattering dishes.

  “Bingo.” Max quickened his pace, then slowed down to let Sutton catch up.

  “Don’t wait for me! Just go!” She waved him ahead at the same time Hadley let out another cry.

  “I’m hungry.”

  Max pushed open the door to the kitchen but stopped short when he saw a man and woman kissing on the other side of the room. Their kissing was definitely on the PG-13 side, and Hadley was definitely not thirteen.

  “What are they doing?” Hadley loud whispered, and Max quickly covered her eyes

  The door hit him in the back and he stepped forward.

  “Did you find some—” Sutton stopped behind him. “Oh . . .”

  Max cleared his throat to get the couple’s attention, but they were too wrapped up—literally—in what they were doing to notice.

  “What’s happening?” Hadley squirmed to see around the hand he still had covering her eyes. Her voice echoed off the stainless counters and appliances, and the man and woman broke apart faster than a Kardashian marriage.

  The tall Asian man pushed his sleeves up while the blonde woman wiped her mouth. “Can I help you with something?” he asked more politely than any man should whose make-out session had been interrupted.

  “I’m hungry,” Hadley answered. “Do you have something besides fish? Because I don’t like fish unless it’s the stick kind.”

  The guy smiled and shook his head. “Sorry. Seafood is all I’ve got. There’s an excellent barbecue place down the street though. Do you like mac and cheese?”

  Hadley sighed. “I love mac and cheese. But only the Kraft kind that’s in the blue box.” She wriggled out of Max’s arms, then stuck her hand in his. “Can we take Max to get some mac and cheese, Mama?” she asked Sutton.

  “It probably won’t be Kraft, but . . .” Sutton hesitated, then nodded. “Max can come with us if he wants.”

  “Oh good.” She held up her arms to Max. “Can you carry me again? I’m too tired to walk.”

  Max didn’t wait. He took off his jacket then stooped down and picked her up. She wrapped her little arms, still pudgy with baby fat, around his neck. They were damp and sticky with sweat, but he didn’t mind. He loved it when his sisters’ kids did the same thing. There was an innocence to it that helped him forget the bad stuff he saw every day.

  Someday he hoped to have his own kids to remind him how good the world was, but the moment Hadley rested her head on his shoulder she restored his faith in humanity.

  If he was lucky he’d be able to hold on to that faith for a few days once he was back at work.

  Chapter Three

  Sutton followed Max through the French doors to the grounds where Deacon and Dahlia should have exchanged vows. The chairs had been taken down and the flowers were gone leaving no evidence of Deacon’s dashed hopes or Dahlia’s recklessness. Like always, someone had cleaned up Dahlia’s mess.

  The sun hung on the horizon turning the sky a soft pink as it clung to the last bits of daylight. Sutton breathed in the air heavy with honeysuckle, watching Max shift Hadley to a more comfortable position. She held back a sigh, remembering that this is how she’d pictured parenthood when she’d walked down her own aisle. Maybe Dahlia was smart to run—Sutton’s own walk had led to disaster. But it had also led to motherhood. She’d never regret that.

  Sutton walked with Max without saying a word, but she heard Hadley’s heavy breaths and knew the little girl would be asleep before they got to the barbecue place. She wanted to worry about Hadley’s sudden attachment to this man she’d just met. It seemed like the right thing to do as a mother—to worry. To be less trusting.

  But her instincts told her she could trust him. That was a new feeling. Besides, they’d be leaving in the morning, before Hadley could get too attached.

  “It’s a block or two away. Will you be okay?” Max asked over his shoulder after they’d walked from the back of the house to the sidewalk on King Street.

  “I’ll be fine.” She stopped and slipped off her shoes then hurried the few steps to catch up.

  “I think this one is almost asleep,” he said, and Hadley’s arm slipped off his shoulder as if to confirm his suspicion.

  “Dancing will do that to a girl.”

  “You know from experience?” His sleeve brushed her bare arm and the soft fabric reminded her of the blanket she used to curl up under during thunderstorms.

  She thought about his question then laughed as she caught the threads of a memory. “For my eighteenth birthday Dahlia talked me into signing ourselves out of school and driving to Atlanta to go clubbing at a place she swore she could talk her way into.”

  “And did she?”

  “Almost, but I looked way too young.” Sutton still couldn’t believe some of the things Dahlia had convinced her to do. “The bouncers didn’t even check our IDs, just sent us on our way.” She’d worn the only thing she had that came close to being club wear but looked every bit the prom dress it actually was.

  “From what I know of Dahlia, I’m guessing you didn’t turn around and go home.” He drifted closer to Sutton, so they were almost touching. Normally she would have put some space between herself and any other man that close. Creating distance was instinctive for her now. But for some reason, not with Max.

  “Sounds like you know Dahlia better than you think you do.” Her arm brushed his again, and this time shivers ran up it. She rubbed them away and went on with her story. “We saw a restaurant a few doors down with kids all dressed up coming out of it.” She rubbed her arm again because the goose bumps were still there.

  “Are you cold?” He stopped and held out his arm with his jacket slung over it. “You can take my jacket.”

  “Thanks.” She slipped her arms through the sleeves. The silk lining felt too nice for the tux to be a rental. Its warmth and slight hint of cedar made her shiver in a different way.

  “So, you and Dahlia see the kids coming out of the restaurant, and then what?” he asked, and they continued walking.

  “Dahlia saunters up to them and starts talking. I’m still hanging back because one rejection was enough for me, but within minutes she’s friends with all of them and she’s got us an invite to their school’s prom.”

  “You went to a random prom?”

  “And the after party, where
I fell asleep because I’d danced so hard. She woke me up at three a.m. to drive the four hours home.”

  Max laughed, startling Hadley. He laid his hand on her head and she nestled back into his shoulder.

  Sutton’s breath caught watching how tender he was with her baby in a way Brett had never been. When she could breathe again, she continued her story, using happier recollections to push back darker memories of her ex-husband. Memories that threatened to steal a feeling of comfort she hadn’t felt in years with a man.

  “If I hadn’t officially been an adult that day, my parents would have murdered me for coming home so late . . . or early. The sun was rising by the time Dahlia dropped me off. I ran inside long enough to change clothes before we left to grab breakfast.”

  Max slowed his walk as they left the grounds of William-Aiken House into the lights, noise and crowds coming from stores and restaurants surrounding the venue. “Deacon always described Dahlia as the flame that drew in every moth in a hundred-mile radius. I could never tell if he loved or hated that about her.”

  “You’re definitely going to get burned the longer you’re around her,” Sutton answered, her voice lowering as they approached the busy street corner, as though everything would get quieter if she did. The longer Hadley slept, the more time she’d have Max to herself. “Usually it’s worth it though.”

  “You’ve been burned by her?” He hit the button to cross the street.

  Sutton waited until they were on the other side, gathering her thoughts—and emotions—before answering. “She introduced me to Hadley’s father.”

  “That wasn’t a good thing?”

  Sutton could feel him looking at her, but she kept her eyes on the sidewalk. “Good and bad. I got Hadley out of it. I wouldn’t change that.”

  “But you blame Dahlia for the bad stuff?” Max’s arm brushed hers again, and Sutton’s stomach simmered with a familiar anxiousness she hadn’t felt in months. She hadn’t missed it either. Talking to Max had forced her to think about Brett and thinking about Brett made her worry about being back in the city he’d sworn to never leave.