The Wedding Dress Yes (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  All at once, the restaurant nearly emptied. Lara checked over what needed to be done next, set the closing routine in motion, and hurried to give him a proper hello. “Hey.”

  His scowl disappeared a mere moment before he kissed her. “You were busy tonight.”

  “Insane. There wasn’t even an extra event in town or anything.”

  Preston pulled out the other chair for her and retrieved the gift bag. “Brought you something.”

  “Aw…” After a peek inside that showed her nothing, Lara tried the flirt thing again. “So… do I open it now or…?”

  “Now is fine. Unless you’d rather not.”

  The moment he said “fine,” Lara tore out the tissue paper and dove into the bag. Inside—a gorgeous handbag. Expensive. Far more expensive than she could hope to afford, it couldn’t have been more perfect. Well, unless it had been any other color but goldenrod. “Oh! It’s such a cute style!” Whatever made you get blush pink?

  “It’s a popular design, so I thought you might like it.” The smile that always made him look like he belonged on a Hollywood marquee flashed and softened into the smile she loved as he saw her unzip it.

  “And so… classic!” Why did you say that? Now he’ll buy everything in a color I never wear!

  “Mom said it’s a bit early for spring colors, but I thought I’d get it before they were gone or before you bought your spring handbags.”

  Handbags… plural?

  Unable to say anything else without the risk of him discovering how much she hated the color, Lara shifted the conversation. “So, did your pastor—David, isn’t it?”

  “David Clary, yes.”

  “Did he have questions for us to go over?”

  Preston shook his head. “He couldn’t meet, but he gave me stuff to work through on my own. He’ll likely have more for us to do together in a few weeks.” He reached for her hand and slid his thumb across her fingers. “I have a question, though.”

  Lara leaned forward and smiled. “Yeah?”

  “What happened to your ring?”

  Lara’s mind whirred as her gaze shot from her hand to his face and back to her hand again. “My ring—oh!” She sank back against her chair and pulled her chain from inside her neckline. “We had a scare this afternoon. I had to help with salads in the kitchen today, and I lost it. Couldn’t find it anywhere. But Carlo is amazing and found it right away. I decided it wasn’t safe, or even sanitary, to wear such a large ring at work, so I put it on a chain.”

  “Why were you working in the kitchen? That’s not your job.”

  She frowned. “Um, Preston. My job is the efficient running of this restaurant. That means when something impedes that, I do the job until I can put someone else in that position. We had an injury, and I had to make up the slack.”

  Once more, he reached for her hand and stroked her ring finger. “Well, I don’t like not seeing it there.”

  Lara hesitated. Was it unreasonable for her to want to wait until the restaurant was closed and locked before she put on her private life again? Was it unreasonable for him to want his fiancée to wear his ring?

  Another glance at him made it even more difficult. Anger seemed to simmer beneath the surface, but his eyes showed only hurt. Maybe he’s just angry at himself for being so bothered by it. That’s probably it.

  Preston sucked in a bit of air and squeezed her hand. “Mother hopes you’ll be able to spend Sunday with us. She wanted to go over flowers, photographer, and invitations. Oh, and the menu. She’s concerned about that.”

  “Do you want me there?”

  The shock he showed—it couldn’t have been manufactured. “Of course, I do. I don’t see you enough as it is.”

  Lara slipped the chain from around her neck and slid the ring off and onto her finger. As she replaced the chain, she decided that compromise was a big part of marriage. I might as well start practicing now.

  Peace and tranquility—two words Ty would have associated with Brenna Kinsey always. Compared to the young woman before him now, they would have been generous. Without a change in personality at all, Brenna appeared as a lighter, brighter version of herself. Lauren gave Ty a pointed look, scooped up a book from the table, and hustled herself out of the room.

  “I promised to help Mr. Ellis try out his new game, so I’ll be back after that.”

  Tension swooped in the door as Lauren exited and settled over Brenna and eventually Mitchell. He spoke first. “Brenna didn’t know who to talk to—you or Lara.”

  After the departure of her little sister, Ty needed clarification—especially after mixing names the other day. “Lara or Lauren?”

  Brenna stiffened. “Did Lauren do something out of line?”

  “No! She’d never!” After a moment’s thought, Ty amended, “Well, if she did, she wouldn’t hide it anyway.”

  That prompted a few snickers and Brenna relaxed a little more again. This time, she explained why they’d asked him to come to Sunday dinner. “Before I say anything, I want you to know that I am willing to talk directly to Lara, but I don’t want to make her upset over what may just be my perception of how things should be. You’re doing counseling with her, so I thought you’d have a better idea of if I should leave it with you or go to her myself.”

  “I can’t discuss what we talk about in our sessions, but…”

  “Well, I didn’t expect you to do that. Okay, do you want what I’ve noticed that concerns me, or should I talk to her about it first?”

  Of course, he wanted to know what bothered Brenna about Lara and presumably the wedding or Preston, but was it right? Ty opted to ask for clarification. “Is this about her personally, about wedding preparations or things, about Preston, their relationship…”

  Brenna’s gaze shifted to Mitchell as she said, “Red flags?”

  He nodded. “That’s a good way of putting what you’ve told me.”

  For red flags, Ty decided to let her start talking. “I’ll let you know if you should just stop and go talk to Lara.”

  “Okay… so I told her that I was concerned about how fast their relationship progressed—while we were in Crossroads, I mean. I didn’t when she told me about the wedding, because what friend does that? But then in Crossroads, we were talking about it, and how her parents don’t like the idea, so I pointed out that there really wasn’t a rush. Even date-wise. With the whole Friday thing, she could probably have the church almost any night of the year!”

  “True…” Ty hesitated before adding, “Well… I thought as much as well, but by the time the wedding takes place, they’ll have known each other for eight months. That’s not crazy short.”

  “When ninety percent of their time together has been him sitting in the restaurant watching her work?”

  Or sitting there watching when she isn’t even there? That is odd…

  “Then,” Brenna continued, “there were all the calls while she was gone—especially at night. It’s like he was checking up on her or something. He’d call back to back sometimes. Nothing freaky, but with a few other things…”

  At that point, Ty couldn’t have shut down the conversation if he’d wanted to. He made a mental note to call his spiritual mentor about it and gestured for them to continue. When Brenna didn’t, Mitchell stepped up.

  He leaned back in the chair—an air of nonchalance and relaxation about him. A ruse if Ty ever saw one. Mitchell’s jaw clenched and his eyes pierced. “Then there was the ring issue. And her hair.”

  That got Brenna going. “Now the hair is just me not liking to see her change something she likes about herself—even for the man she loves.”

  “Hair?” Lara had the most natural, beautiful, pale, honey blonde he’d ever seen, and Ty didn’t even like blonde hair. Usually.

  “She made four appointments to slowly darken her hair to almost an amber because Preston prefers that.”

  That was a red flag—maybe. “Did he ask or manipulate her to, that you know?”

  “I think it was her
decision, but I know he’s mentioned it a few times.”

  Probably unconcerning, but I’ll put it down as something to discuss in our sessions.

  “And then there was the ring… That really bothered me.”

  “It’s kind of big.”

  “Ridiculous, right? I mean, anyone knows you don’t give a ring like that to someone in food service. High end and managerial or not, you just don’t. And then when she lost it—”

  The jubilation he felt at those words would definitely need to be explored later. Alone. “Lost it?”

  “In the salad, no less.”

  “Let me guess, someone took that for a healthy King Cake and cried jackpot?”

  The joke lowered tension levels again. Brenna jumped up and brought in brownies as if it had been a hint. “Just remembered them. But no,” she added as she sliced up large hunks of ooey-gooey goodness. “I think they found it before anything was served, even. Lara put it on a chain to protect it and the food. Preston was not happy. It made her jittery.”

  That didn’t sound like Lara at all. “Jittery? Is that what she said?”

  “No, I saw it today. She had it around her neck, and when she went to leave from church, she had this panic moment when she realized she’d forgotten to put it back on after doing her makeup. She said that Preston would freak out on her again.”

  That didn’t sound healthy at all, but it could have been caused by a dozen other things that made it just look off. Between bites of brownie that gave him time to think and consider, Ty began thinking aloud. “Okay, so if it were any other guy, I’d just say that he probably spent more than he could afford on it—or that he was making payments and losing it would be bad… really bad. But Preston St. James shouldn’t need to make payments on anything.”

  “That’s what I said.” Mitchell gave Brenna a reassuring hand squeeze before adding, “Look, Brenna doesn’t like to make assumptions that aren’t fair, but this is the rest of someone’s life. If this is an issue, it needs to be addressed now. You were the compromise between butting in and saying nothing. All we’re asking is that if you see red flags of your own, you remember that we are concerned, too.”

  Ty turned to Brenna. “One question for you.”

  The look in her eyes told him she suspected what it would be. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what?” he asked.

  “If I can be a part of the wedding if more stuff like this happens.”

  It wasn’t precisely his question, but close enough, and it told him what he needed to know. “I’ll pray about it. That’s all I’m promising. If it’s not enough for your conscience, then you need to talk to her.”

  On his way home, Ty decided maybe a quick Google search on Preston St. James wouldn’t hurt. As he neared the toy shop, Lauren stepped out and waved. “The new game is awesome. Mr. Ellis helped design it. People will be coming to Spillikins from everywhere now!”

  “I’ll have to get one, and we can have a game night. You pick the date.”

  “Deal!” She cocked her head in that infuriating way she had and said, “You don’t like what they said about Pressie, do you?”

  “I—”

  “Yeah. I don’t either. She needs a guy who is happy with her being who she is, instead of who he wants her to be.” Lauren stepped closer and lowered her voice. “You wouldn’t expect a girl to be something different… would you?”

  All blood drained from his head. You would not go and get a crush on me, Lauren. You’re too practical for that. Ty gazed into frank, clear, expectant eyes. Would you?

  She’d taken three bites of the best curry she’d ever had when a woman Lara hadn’t seen before entered the dining room and whispered something to Miss Stella. Everything at the table shifted.

  Miss Stella rose and excused herself. Preston fidgeted for a moment and followed. Uncertain how to respond, Lara gave Mr. St. James a questioning glance. He didn’t respond. It would take a direct approach.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be. My wife’s mother can become agitated if things aren’t just right. Preston is her favorite, so he is a comfort as well.”

  Finally, someone other than Preston mentioned his elusive grandmother. “I haven’t met her yet. Preston says she doesn’t leave home except for church and rare family events.”

  “That’s true. She’s growing a little peculiar as she ages—nothing too concerning, but he’s a comfort to her.” The man she’d someday call dad—what an odd thought for someone so formal—nodded at her ring finger. “I see you’ve taken off that thing.”

  So that’s why Preston has been so silent and distant. I forgot again. Lara pulled it from within her shirt and slipped the ring off the chain. “I had to start wearing it around my neck at work. I forgot. Again.”

  “Preston shouldn’t have given someone in the food service industry such an impractical ring.” She couldn’t be certain, but Lara thought she heard him say, “Or any ring at all.”

  Perhaps it was time to address the invisible elephant. “Do you disapprove of me, Mr. St. James?”

  “Not at all.” He sounded surprised, but his facial features looked as grim as ever. “My son knows how I feel about ostentatious displays.”

  “So, it’s the ring you object to? You would have preferred something smaller?”

  Preston appeared with a matching grim look on his face. “My father would prefer I honor our church’s traditions and not have engagement jewelry of any kind. We’ve only worn wedding bands for the past thirty years or so.”

  That wasn’t something she’d ever heard of. “Is there a reason for it?” Her fingers played with her right earring almost of their own volition. “Are my earrings offensive?”

  While Preston sat there stone-rigid, Mr. St. James softened. “No, Lara. They aren’t offensive. We just choose not to wear ornaments in obedience to I Peter chapter three.” As if he knew she didn’t know what Scripture reference that was, he quoted it and said, “It’s an outward expression of our heart to exalt Jesus and draw attention to Him rather than ourselves.”

  “What a beautiful idea! I love that. I’ll have to study that more.”

  Miss Stella arrived just in time to hear Mr. St. James’ response. “Preston, I don’t think you could have brought a lovelier woman into our family—inside and out. And she doesn’t need a rock the size of Gibraltar to show it.”

  “I know your opinion. I don’t share it. The ring stays.”

  “Mother is well. Just a little misunderstanding.”

  Lara sat up, fork in hand, and ready to stab another bite of curry. “Perhaps she’ll be well enough for a short visit after dinner? I’d love to meet her.”

  “Not today,” Preston said, almost before she’d finished speaking. “Not after an upset like that.”

  “We couldn’t have that, could we?” Mr. St. James muttered.

  An awkward silence filled the dining room—one where the three St. Jameses shouted unspoken words at each other, and Lara listened, confused. Alone. In a room with her new family.

  I shouldn’t just want to go home, but I do. Alone.

  Miss Stella’s voice broke through her thoughts. “—join us for our special Easter service?”

  A sinking feeling began in her gut and traveled down to her toes. “I’m so sorry, but I have to work on Saturdays. They’re big days for the restaurant. I don’t want to be disrespectful, but it’s what I do.”

  “Mother is speaking of our Sunday morning service. It’s the only one of the year on Sunday—a musical service with the church orchestra and beautiful music.” Preston beamed at her as if the decision had been made. “You’ll love it.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t put her on the spot. If Lara can join us, she will. If not, we’ll understand.” Mr. St. James gave her a reassuring smile before adding, “I don’t mean this to be unkind, Lara, but Preston needs to recall that he chose a bride who doesn’t share all tenets of our faith. That means sometimes she won’t be
able to join us in our church celebrations.”

  Though he spoke to her, Lara felt the rebuke strike Preston. Before an argument broke out, if it even would, she gave them all a promise. “I’ll pray about that. Easter services with my church has always been very special to me, but I have a new family to think about, too…”

  The St. Jameses beamed at her—first the parents, and finally, when he heard her mention prayerful consideration of the invitation, Preston.

  Why does that make me feel worse rather than better?

  The clock inched past the big 4:00 and Lara gripped the steering wheel harder as if somehow it would push the car faster and farther without increasing the speedometer. Fifteen miles out. At five, the clock read 4:20. “Stupid, winding roads.”

  Once she shot down the alleyway to her parking unit, Lara relaxed a little. She jerked the parking break into position and grabbed her trusty denim purse. A blip, blip later, and she bolted for the stairs. One of the busboys carried a bag of trash to the dumpsters. “Tell them I’ll be right in. I got hung up with an accident.” At the look of horror on the kid’s face, she added, “Not mine!”

  He called out something else, but Lara shot up the stairs nearly knocking over Preston at the top. “Hey! What’re you doing here?”

  “Had time before prayer meeting, so I thought I’d come see you for a few minutes.” His kiss lingered until Lara almost forgot how late she was. “You look fabulous, by the way.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d complimented her in the ballet pink sweater, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Preston St. James knew what he liked. As his eyes traveled to the strap over her shoulder, the complimentary look in his eyes shifted to confusion and then… was it anger?

  “Where’s your new purse?”

  Lara unlocked the door as she said, “Oh, it’s inside. I used this one today.”

  “What’s wrong with your new one?”

  That stopped her just inside the door. “Um… nothing. I just wanted to use this one. It’s my favorite.”