A Winter Wedding (Whiskey Creek)

by Brenda Novak

  “I don’t mind the occasional random sighting. As long as it’s from a distance and she doesn’t try to approach me.”

  “She can’t even talk to you?” she said with a laugh.

  “No. I’m done. I’ve hit my limit. I don’t know how I’ve put up with her for so long.”

  Lourdes adjusted her seat belt. “So this is a celebration. You’ve finally managed to rid yourself of your stalker.”

  “With all the crap you were reading about yourself on the internet, I realize it’s not a celebration for you. But you’re going to be fine. I have no doubt, because there’s no questioning your talent.” He’d heard what she could do, had become a real fan listening to her albums as well as the partial songs she played for him every night. “You’ll find a good manager, a new label that’ll really get behind you, and you’ll soon be back on top.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said.

  “I am.” He lowered the volume on the radio. “So are you feeling comfortable being out of the house?”

  “Absolutely. You were right. I needed the change of scenery. There’s nothing like Gold Country at Christmas. It could be the inspiration for all those idealized scenes on Christmas cards.”

  He wished he could show her Eve’s B and B, which was always decorated to the hilt for the holidays, but he didn’t want to push her. He was glad he’d talked her into going out to dinner. “You haven’t had much of a chance to enjoy the season.”

  “That’s why this is so nice.”

  Now that he’d convinced her to come out, Kyle was determined to make sure nothing ruined the evening. So once they arrived in Jackson, he had her wait in his truck while he went into the restaurant to speak to the manager. Then he took her in through the back, where a short, stout man by the name of Mr. Hines led them up a narrow staircase to a private room.

  “What’d you tell him?” she whispered as the echo of their host’s footsteps dimmed on the stairs when he went back down.

  After being relieved of their coats, they’d been given a wine list and a menu. “That we’d prefer to eat alone, if possible.”

  She gazed around the small, garret-like room, which could seat sixteen people at most. “This is wonderful. And the manager was so respectful. I could tell he recognized me, but he wasn’t obvious about it.”

  Kyle winked at her. “Don’t worry. You’re going to have a good dinner—one you didn’t have to cook—and there won’t be anything unpleasant to ruin it.”

  “But how’d you know this room existed? Have you brought other women here?”

  “No. This is where we come whenever Simon’s in town. It can get a bit crowded if we all come, but we squeeze in and make it work.”

  She smoothed the napkin Mr. Hines had placed in her lap. “Oh, makes sense. I forgot he’s married to your friend. He probably can’t go anywhere without attracting a crowd. I hope you don’t think I’m pretending to be in his league.”

  “I know you’re not pretending anything. Mr. Hines is good about giving Simon the chance to eat without public attention, so I thought it’d be worth asking if he’d do the same for you. That’s all.”

  “It’s very nice of him to accommodate us—and it was nice of you to think of it.”

  He leaned across the table and dropped his voice. “Before you thank me, I should tell you, in the spirit of full disclosure, that I did promise I’d try to persuade you to let me snap a picture while you’re here so he can hang it downstairs.”

  “Of course. That’s no problem.”

  “It’ll be right next to Simon’s photograph,” he said as he sat back. “So you’ll be in good company.”

  She opened her menu, lowered it, then lifted it again.

  Kyle could tell she wanted to say something. “What is it?”

  “Since I’ve been so reclusive and haven’t been willing to meet any strangers, I probably shouldn’t ask, but...”

  “But?” he prodded.

  “Could you introduce me to Simon someday?”

  “Sure. If you’re still here the next time he visits.”

  “Won’t he be coming for your friend’s wedding after Christmas?”

  “Gail will be here. And she’s bringing the kids to see her family. But Simon has to be in England, on the set of his latest project. He tried to get around it, but the delay would cost the production company some exorbitant amount.”

  “So he’ll miss seeing you perform the wedding service.”

  Kyle rolled his eyes. “I still can’t believe Riley and Phoenix asked me to do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have no idea what to say! My own marriage lasted less than a year. I’m about the only person left in our group who’s single—and I’m considering staying that way for the rest of my life. I’m no one to offer the type of advice most people look for at their weddings.”

  “Maybe he’s not looking for your advice. Maybe he just wants someone who means a lot to him to perform the service.”

  “That’s flattering,” he said. “But most people hope their wedding service will be memorable. I’m afraid this one will be memorable for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Speak from the heart and you’ll be fine.”

  “If I did that, I’d say, ‘Good luck. You may need it.’”

  She frowned but waited to respond until Mr. Hines had delivered their water glasses and promised to return shortly for their drink order. “Not all marriages are as hard as the relationships you and I have had,” she said when they were alone.

  “I guess not. But I wouldn’t expect you to speak up for marriage. What if you’d married Derrick and he’d met Crystal after the wedding?”

  “I’m lucky that didn’t happen.”

  Deciding that he didn’t want to make this dinner about their failed love lives, Kyle grinned. “So maybe you should be celebrating tonight, too.”

  “Maybe so,” she agreed, giving him a grudging smile in return. “Anyway, if you’d like, I’ll help you write something to say at the wedding.”

  “You will?”

  “Sure. I’m feeling bitter at the moment, too, but I’m fairly certain I can do better than ‘Good luck.’”

  Since he’d tried several times to come up with something profound and had nothing to show for those efforts, he felt a great measure of relief. He’d been mentally ticking off the days, watching the wedding march closer without feeling any more prepared. “Hallelujah! I consider myself saved.”

  “I’m not sure I’d say you’re saved,” she told him. “But there should be some overlap between writing songs and writing a few lines on love and commitment for a wedding. So we’ll see what I can come up with. Or we can write it together.”

  When she looked up, he was reminded of another moment that had crackled with the same sort of energy. Last night, they’d turned off the TV and were saying good-night. But as they’d walked toward the hall, neither of them had seemed very eager to go to bed, despite how late it was. So they’d lingered outside her door, talking some more, and then she’d stood on tiptoe to give him a brief hug and thank him for letting her stay. Only it wasn’t the natural kind of embrace he received so often from his other friends. As soon as she came up against him, he’d felt the strong desire to slide his hands down her back. And he got the impression she’d felt something she hadn’t expected, too, because she quickly backed away.

  After that, they couldn’t escape into their rooms fast enough.

  It’d been awkward. But it wasn’t the awkwardness that had kept him awake most of the night. He’d been too aware of the fact that she was just down the hall. He’d stared at his ceiling for hours, listening for any sound of her movements while trying to keep the fantasy of removing her clothes out of his head.

  Under the pretext of focusing on the menu, he pull
ed his gaze away. “I’ll contribute what I can.”

  She studied her menu. “So what are you hungry for?”

  He was hungry for her. Being with Lourdes like this—out, as though they were on some sort of date—seemed to be messing with his mind. And there was something else that occurred to him. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that he could only get over Olivia after Lourdes had entered his life...

  “Damn it.”

  “What’d you say?” she asked in confusion.

  He cleared his throat. “Nothing. Disregard that. I’m having the cowboy steak.” He looked up. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “No, thanks. But feel free to have a drink or two yourself. I could drive, if necessary.”

  “I don’t need any alcohol tonight.” He figured he shouldn’t drink for the next three months—until Lourdes was gone and he was no longer face-to-face with the temptation to wreck his life just when he was regaining control of it.

  * * *

  Lourdes had salmon with capers and dill sauce, which was delicious. So was the chocolate soufflé they shared for dessert.

  When the bill arrived, she grabbed her purse. She felt she should pay, since Kyle had been covering the cost of groceries. But he wouldn’t hear of it. He picked up the tab, took that picture he’d promised the manager, even lifted her into his truck so her feet wouldn’t get wet.

  As they drove back, the wind whipped at the truck and the nearby trees, causing icy crystals of snow to click against the windshield almost like hail. Lourdes enjoyed watching the flakes fly at them or tumble to the ground in the beam of their headlights. She wasn’t dressed for bad weather, but she was plenty warm inside the cab.

  By the time they reached Whiskey Creek, it was only ten, but on a weekday that was late enough that they could go through the center of town without feeling conspicuous. Kyle braked here and there to point out his friend’s photography studio, his other friend’s auto shop, his favorite restaurant—a diner called Just Like Mom’s. Little Mary’s, the bed-and-breakfast he’d recommended to her, could’ve been the subject of a Thomas Kinkade painting. Evergreen garland adorned the porch and the black wrought-iron fence that surrounded the property. A battery-powered candle flickered in every window, and a giant, ornate wreath hung on the door. Even the cemetery next door looked festive, thanks to the lacy branches of the leafless trees and the church beyond the sentry-like grave markers.

  “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave this place,” she commented as they rounded the park at the far end of town so he could show her the giant Christmas tree. “It’s something special.”

  “It’s home,” he said simply.

  She pointed at a vinyl sign flapping from the stoplight. She hadn’t noticed it earlier. “I’d forgotten that Whiskey Creek is one of the towns that host Victorian Days. Look, it starts this weekend.”

  “We can go, if you want.”

  “Be seen in public?”

  “Why not? It’ll shore up what you told the Gold Country Gazette. Show Derrick that you’re really not sitting in some farmhouse alone and feeling hurt by what he’s done.”

  “I’ve told him as much. I finally texted him back, fired him and requested that he leave me alone. I haven’t put out any feelers for a new manager yet, but I’m not ready for that. I’ll do it in January, when I’m further along with the songs I’m writing. Then maybe I can send a few samples and get someone based on the quality of my work, despite the downward spiral of my career.”

  “Sounds like a smart plan. How’d Derrick take the news?”

  “He wasn’t happy. Said I was an ungrateful bitch.”

  “That should win you back.”

  “Yeah, definitely not. But since he’s already angry, do you think I should make it worse by allowing people to get pictures of us that they could easily post on the internet?”

  “I don’t see why you should closet yourself away and miss Christmas just because he’s angry. He’s the one who cheated, not you.”

  And, if she had her guess, he was seeing more of Crystal instead of less. “I wish I knew why I wasn’t enough.”

  “Don’t talk like that. You didn’t deserve what he did. There’s something wrong with him, not you.”

  But it was hard not to feel that she must’ve fallen short in some way. “I suppose everyone who’s ever been cheated on feels inadequate.”

  “You need to shake that off. And you need to go to Victorian Days.”

  “Seeing or hearing about us being together might also provoke Noelle,” she warned. “Have you considered that?”

  “There’s no reason to consider it. I won’t let what Noelle may or may not do dictate my actions.”

  “So you’re issuing a challenge?”

  She saw a flash of white teeth as he smiled. “Are you up for it?”

  “Why not?” she replied. The longer she was away from Nashville, the better she felt. She was afraid that had a lot more to do with Kyle than she cared to admit, but she didn’t want to miss the fun of the holidays. She felt a spark, a lessening of the worry and doubt she’d been carrying around for the past few months, and wanted to fan that small spark into a raging fire of confidence, not allow Derrick or Noelle or anyone else to smother it before it could really catch hold.

  “Great. I’ll be able to show you the inside of Little Mary’s. Eve always sells the best cookies during Victorian Days. And there’ll be people roasting chestnuts and selling hot cider and handmade gifts.”

  “My parents brought me and my sisters when we were young.” She could’ve driven herself once she got older, if she’d stuck around long enough. But she’d been too eager to get to Nashville—and since then she’d cared about little beyond how well her records were selling. So it was ironic that the promise of a small-town Christmas celebration could entice her despite her fear of stirring up gossip on various websites and on social media. None of those outside concerns seemed to matter in this idyllic town. She even began to question why she’d been in such a hurry to get out of Gold Country when she was young. Could she honestly say she’d found something better?

  No. She’d enjoyed the fame, mostly because there was joy in knowing other people liked her work. The money had been a blessing, too. But what she’d achieved had come at a high cost in other areas. She seemed to have lost her way at some point and begun writing and performing only to please others instead of making sure it fulfilled her at the same time...

  “There’s the ice cream parlor,” Kyle said. “Would you like a cone?”

  “No.” She put a hand to her stomach. “I can’t eat another bite. I won’t fit into my dress if I do.”

  “I don’t see that as a problem, since you’d look even better out of it.” He spoke as if he was teasing, as if what he’d said was merely a joke. But that kind of joke didn’t fall under the heading of appropriate things to say to a friend. She doubted his mind would ever have gone in that direction, if not for their hug last night. Although it didn’t make much sense, since she was still in love with someone else, she’d wanted to get her hands on Kyle, to touch him. So she’d used a quick good-night embrace as the excuse—and then she’d regretted it. That hug had changed something between them.

  “Maybe we’d better go home,” she said, suddenly feigning even more interest in the Christmas lights hanging from almost every building. “We both have work tomorrow.”

  Once they got back, he kept his distance. She could tell he was embarrassed by the comment he’d made in the truck. He was probably wondering where that had come from, just as she’d been wondering why that innocuous hug had felt anything but innocuous. They spoke politely, almost formally, and stepped around each other as if they were afraid they might spontaneously combust if they touched.

  So she tried to put an end to the awkwardness with another good-night hug—a proper
friend hug this time that wouldn’t feel nearly as sexual as last night’s. If they planned to live together for the next three months, they had to force their relationship back inside the boundaries where it was meant to reside.

  For the first second, the contact was everything she’d intended. She felt him release her, heard him say good-night. Perfunctory. Matter-of-fact. So she wasn’t sure why she hugged him again, or whether she turned her head or he turned his, but a second later, their mouths came together—warm and wet and questing. And what happened next wasn’t about friendship at all.

  20

  When the truth of what was happening finally hit Kyle’s brain, he froze. He was about to pull away. He knew better than to kiss Lourdes. They were plastered against each other so tightly she had to be able to feel his erection. But then... This wasn’t entirely his doing. He was pretty sure she was kissing him, and that changed things. He wouldn’t want to be rude, he told himself, wouldn’t want to reject her after what she’d been through.

  That wasn’t much of an excuse for breaking his own rules, but the need he felt to protect her from anything negative, even his own rejection, was working against him...

  He circled her waist with his hands, bringing her up higher, so he could kiss her more deeply. Part of him hoped such an aggressive action would startle her, that she’d back away and take the onus off him. But she didn’t. If anything, she seemed to like the intensity of what he’d done. She groaned as if she was enjoying every second—and he knew then that he was in trouble. He hoped she wasn’t expecting him to put a stop to this.

  Soon, all kinds of warning bells were going off in his head. This was exactly what he’d decided he wouldn’t do! For someone like him, she was way out of reach—a shooting star, streaking across the sky. If he tried to catch her, he’d get dragged along for a short time before being dropped painfully back to Earth.

  But right now he felt even one night with her might be worth the coming crash. Three long years since he’d been with a woman made him want to lay her down and settle himself between her thighs...