Mollywood (Carved Hearts #2)

by L. G. Pace III

  He nodded, his cheeks flushing. I could tell he needed to vent, too. But this was neither the time nor the place for it.

  We entered the grand foyer and I heaved an appreciative sigh. The Oasis truly was breathtaking. Joe whistled. Based on the expression he wore as he looked around, he was also impressed.

  “Just how much are you paying these two?” Joe drawled and I elbowed him with a grin. My employees, Stacy and Sanchez, might both be certifiable lunatics, but they had excellent taste.

  “They reserved a smaller room upstairs.” I pressed the elevator button and the doors immediately popped open. The moment the doors closed, Joe turned and gave me a lecherous smile.

  “Mess up my lipstick and I’ll kill you.” I threatened and he looked away with a wry smirk. A moment later the elevator stopped moving and the door opened.

  I spotted Sanchez the moment we stepped off into the sunny room. At 6’5’ and 250 pounds of solid muscle, he was kind of hard to miss. Sanch looked surprisingly suave in his black tuxedo and I was relieved to see he’d talked Stacy out of the white tux with tails. There was upscale and then there was plain ridiculous.

  “Dirty S!” I squealed, giving my favorite co-worker a huge hug. “You look very sharp, sir!”

  “Molly. Thank God you’re here. Stacy’s starting to freak.” His quiet voice quivered a bit and I realized he looked petrified. His dark skin looked rosy around the apples of his cheeks and a crease appeared between his dark brown eyes. Both he and his fiancée worked in my food trucks, Wrapgasmic. Stacy was the cashier and operations manager for truck number one, which was permanently, parked outside of Cas’s, a popular bar on East Sixth. She was also my marketing goddess, and worked social media like she was born to it. Sanchez was my head chef for truck number two, which was usually parked somewhere on South Congress. They were both indispensable to me, having been my first crew when I moved back to Austin and launched the brand. They were each hardworking and gifted in their own way and God knows where I’d be without them. I’d nearly bit my tongue off when they announced their engagement, since Stacy was about as constant as a hummingbird and I was afraid she’d break up our Wrapgasmic family.

  Stacy’s mom and Dad had been fairly indulgent for their oldest daughter’s special day, but they’d wisely drawn the line at an open bar and a sit down meal. Still, the location itself was worth every penny. Stacy had spent all of her savings on her dress and Sanchez had done the same on Stacy’s ring. The happy couple originally planned to take a three day honeymoon down to Galveston, but I refused to allow it. I smiled, happy that I could afford to give them a proper getaway as a wedding present. Stacy and Sanch would be flying out to Napa Valley for the next week, and I’d soon be busting my butt covering for Sanchez while they were away.

  “I suppose I’d better haul some ass then. Can’t keep the bride waiting!” I replied with a grin, and headed off to find Stacy. I wove through the swelling crowd until I reached the room reserved for the guest of honor’s preparation. I knocked (shave and a haircut-style), and it was Stacy herself who flung the door open. She looked devastatingly perfect in her plunging sleeveless gown. Her blonde hair was teased to such perfection that Miss Texas herself would’ve been proud. Her eyes, however, looked wild.

  “Did you bring the ‘something blue?” She blurted, and I immediately waved the garter in my hand. I’d expected this greeting. Stacy would happily get married without one of her bridesmaids, but she was far too superstitious to get married without accounting for all her good luck charms.

  “Good. Now get the hell in here. We’ve taken all the pictures we could without you.” She demanded, her eyes strategically judging my level of presentability. Stacy had graciously allowed each of her attendants to pick her own dress pattern. She made no demands. We were free to be as creative as we liked, as long as our dresses were all the same color and material. It was probably a wise decision, since we were all so different in ages and shapes. Her sixteen year old sister was her maid of honor, and she looked darling in her tea length sleeveless tank-style dress. Sanchez’s sister was nearly forty years old, but her buff arms and plentiful cleavage rocked in her strapless floor-length. The last bridesmaid, a high school friend, was a fairly hefty gal. Her choice of sweetheart neckline flattered her well, and her pale skin and red hair looked better in mint green than the rest of us. I couldn’t stop admiring her.

  After we posed for a series of group photographs and Stacy and I had one of just the two of us, Stacy’s mom waltzed into the room. Overly tanned and bleached, I felt like I was getting a sneak peek at Stacy’s future self when I saw her. ‘Stacy Senior’ gestured to her gold watch.

  “It’s time.” She murmured.

  “Oh God!” Stacy exclaimed, flushing a deep shade of fuchsia. Her panicked eyes darted to mine. “What if I mess up my vows? What if I cry! Oh God, I’m not wearing waterproof mascara! I can’t cry, Molly. I don’t want to cry.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “Breathe, Stace. You’ll be great. That’s Sanchez out there. He looks like a million bucks, by the way. You just think about him waiting under that archway for you. The rest of this fluff isn’t important.”

  My pep talk seemed to do the trick. Stacy plastered on her best customer service smile. Her mother herded us out into the ballroom and lined us up. I found myself paired with Sanchez’s younger brother, Pablo. He was an inch shorter than me in my two inch heels, but he was pretty cute and very friendly, so I was content with the situation. We were the first two to head outdoors and down the white-carpeted aisle. As we made our way toward the arch, I gave the crowd my best pageant girl grin. This wasn’t my thing, and I inwardly cringed as a flash went off in my face. I inadvertently locked eyes with Joe, who’d been seated on the bride’s side. He was two people in from the aisle, but his brilliant green eyes drew my attention as if he were the only thing in focus. His full lips turned upward at the edges when I found him, and I couldn’t help but melt. Had I not had scores of people watching my every move, I’d have ditched Pablo on the spot.

  Sanchez forced a grin and nervously mopped his brow with a handkerchief as we joined him near the railing. The panoramic view of Lake Travis gave me a tiny touch of vertigo, and I quickly swiveled to look back on the crowd. I could see Joe. Even seated, he towered over Stacy’s family members and a crease appeared between his brows. He must have seen something concerning on my face. When I flashed him an easy smile, relief washed over him and I saw him sit back and visibly relax.

  After the rest of the couples repeated our ceremonial journey, the string quartet began playing The Wedding March. Everyone stood in a rush, and I noticed the priest shuffle impatiently. Judging by the level of the sun in the sky, it wouldn’t set until after this wedding was long over. I saw a few people aggressively fanning themselves with their programs, and was grateful for my sleeveless dress. I’d noticed that Joe had abandoned his suit jacket in the car. The temp was in the eighties, yet by all accounts it was actually quite mild for August in Texas.

  Stacy took her trip down the aisle like a boss. There were no sobs or raccoon eyes on her part, though her mother made up for that completely. Stacy was composed and picture perfect and Sanchez lit up like a spotlight the moment she came into view.

  Thankfully, the priest kept it short and sweet, and there were no lengthy poetry readings or warbling soprano soloists. I found myself tearing up as I watched my friends exchange vows, partially because I’m a hopeless romantic, but also because they’d only been a couple for about as long as Joe and I had, and I was certain they’d be divorced within the year. The thought of having to replace either of them made me want to hurl. Far worse was the thought of them breaking each other’s hearts.

  After the ceremony, we posed for a couple of pictures outside with both the bride and groom and then headed into the arctic blast of air-conditioning. I accepted a glass of punch from Pablo and scanned the crowd for my date. I worried about Joe having someone to talk to while I fulfilled my obligations as
a member of the wedding party. My concerns were completely abated when I spotted him at the bar with his former boss, Graham. Joe and Graham were tight. Graham was one of the main reasons Joe had made it through his personal tragedies in one piece.

  The two of them laughed uproariously at something Graham’s wife was saying. Seeing Joe so happy and carefree coaxed a smile from me, and I wandered off to leave him in more pleasant company. It’d been a while since he’d laughed like that with me, and I didn’t want to encroach on his good time. With a bittersweet backward glance in his direction, I took my place beside Sanchez’s sister just as the toasts began.

  “IT’S GREAT TO see you, Joe. It’s even better to see you looking so happy.” Graham’s wife, Anne, came in for a stealthy hug that took me completely off guard. I smiled, but eyed Graham awkwardly. He shrugged and finished off the last swallow of his beer, his reticent expression implying she did stuff like this all the time. After she patted my back and wandered away, Graham took a seat on the nearest bar stool and I joined him, waving the bartender over.

  “Shiner, please. Biggest draft you’ve got.” I glanced at Graham expectantly.

  “I’ll have the same.” He nodded, and turned his probing eyes to assess me. Graham had stepped up to be a surrogate father figure for me, even before my world crumbled. The rift with my own parents had still been the size of The Grand Canyon at the time of Jess’s accident, though mom had been trying to weasel her way back in when she’d found out we’d been expecting a child. When both Jess and the baby died, I went a little bit nuts.

  Okay…maybe more than a little.

  My parents bailed immediately. They had no way to deal with what I was going through or the angry lunatic I had become. They scurried back to Florida and left my older sister, Tamryn, to deal with me and my breakdown. Thankfully, Mason and Mac Hildebrandt, my oldest friends, were around to help her out. They’d had the good sense to bring Graham along, knowing that even in my darkest hour, I’d be willing to listen to him. Who knows where I’d be if Graham hadn’t stepped up.

  Or if I’d still be around at all…

  “So, I hear from Mason that you and Mac are making money hand over fist. I guess I won’t be getting any phone calls from the two of you looking for work anytime soon.” I glanced over at him and saw the gleam in his eye that belied the surly tone.

  “Well, if you ever need any finish work done you know where to find me.” I murmured. He clapped his hand on my arm and beamed at me.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well. You’ve been hiding your light under a bushel for far too long, son.” Graham had always believed I was too talented to be doing basic carpentry. When I lost my wife and son, I also lost my will to carve. I couldn’t tap into my creativity at all, but I still had my carpentry skills and Graham had been willing to hire me on. Even after all the trouble I’d gotten myself into…picking fights on jobsites, showing up still drunk. Graham stuck by me when most of the foremen in Austin had written me off as more trouble than I was worth.

  We settled back to our beers and I let me gaze wander over the crowd. Molly looked breathtaking. Her luscious dark hair was piled on top of her head in a way that drew my attention to her exposed neck. I wanted to nibble her, and imagining the sounds she would make caused me serious frustration. She was such a contradiction in her sweet little bridesmaid dress which showed off so many of her tattoos. Like a little lost fairytale princess who Dita Von Teese had taken under her wing. Watching her enjoying herself at the table with the other wedding party members, I felt my heart in my throat. Her beauty was effortless. It didn’t matter if she was dressed in my old sweatshirt or was draped in an expensive gown; she always outshone everyone around her.

  Graham followed my gaze and chuckled softly. “You’ve got it bad.”

  I glanced at him and felt my face flush. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Molly’s a special girl, Joe. I’m happy for you.” He replied, sipping his beer.

  His words gave me pause. I couldn’t talk to Mason and Mac about Molly, so that made Graham my only outlet.

  “Between you and me? Even with…Jess…I never felt so…consumed. Sounds crazy…but it’s a fact. Does that make any sense at all?”

  Nodding he raised his beer and directed my gaze to his own wife, who’d just whispered something in Molly’s ear. “It does. The first time I saw the missus, she reached right into my chest and pulled my heart right out. She’s had it ever since. Luckily she takes really good care of it.” He gave an oversized wink as he said the last bit. I grinned back at him.

  “I wake up thinking about Molly. She’s on my mind all day. Lately…I wonder if I’m screwing the whole thing up…” I trailed off and stared into the dregs of my mug. I looked up to see Graham watching me over the top of his beer.

  “Relationships can be tough. Even the best ones. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right path and along the way you lose each other. I know you don’t believe the same as I do, but if you ever want to try it, I’d be happy to—” I held up a hand and nodded. I knew what he was going to say. Graham and I had been dancing a God vs Heathen waltz for so long that the conversation was almost spoken telepathically. I just couldn’t take another heartfelt invitation to visit his church.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. I really do.” Graham looked at me contemplatively for a moment, and then shrugged.

  “No pressure, Joe. I just put it out there from time to time so that you know the offer still stands.” Anne swept up and pulled him out onto the dance floor. She always seemed to know when our conversations were at an awkward stage. I waved as they retreated, and turned to look at the head table again. The sight of Molly tugged at my heart hard enough to hurt. The little man who’d escorted her during the ceremony was working hard to chat her up, and I smirked as I watched her shut him down by abruptly turning away to talk to Stacy.

  I hated the awkward place we were right now. Our fighting had become like a reflex and I couldn’t see a way out of it. She was so stubborn. To be honest, I was just as bad. I’d begun to worry that we just might be too alike in some ways to be able to make a go of it. Thoughts of that nature tended to lead me to a dark place, and I wanted to try and make it a good day, so I thrust them aside.

  Sanchez rose from his place at the table. He waited for the room to quiet and when he spoke it was with a full, loud voice that was startling from the normally soft-spoken man.

  “Family and friends, thanks for joining us on our special day. Seeing so many of the people we love here to celebrate with us makes us feel very blessed. I’m lucky to have married the most beautiful and loving woman that a man could ever hope to find. Stacy, every day, for the rest of my life, I’ll work hard to be worthy of you.” He pulled Stacy’s hand up and bent over it, kissing it like a storybook prince. On anyone else it would have looked corny, but somehow Sanchez pulled it off.

  Sitting back down, he leaned over and planted one on his new wife. I felt the ghost of pain flare in my chest. It was hard to be at a wedding without thinking back to the day I’d married Jess. I hadn’t been to a wedding since, and that was a decidedly good thing. I sipped my beer and fought a silent battle against the specters from my past.

  Mac and Mason had thrown me one hell of a bachelor party. I’d gotten so drunk that I’d nearly missed the wedding. If it hadn’t been for their mom sending over one of their cousins to roust us, we might have slept all day. Jessica had seethed at the sight of my bloodshot eyes when I turned up late for the pre wedding pictures, but you’d never know it. Her pictures from that day were radiant. In every shot she looked like an angel, but honestly the ceremony itself was a blur. All I remember is sweating out hard alcohol, which I’m sure made me smell wonderful. All things considered, my wedding was not the special memory that it probably should have been.

  I blinked away the reminiscence and motioned to the bartender over, ordering a sweet tea. It would be quite some time before we’d be able to leave, but I wasn’t about to chance our safety
with even a slightly altered state. I saw Molly watching me from the main table with a wistful look on her face. She looked as ready to go as I was The guy next to her, Pablo I think, put a hand on her bare shoulder and turning, she smiled that faux smile of hers-the one that warned she was about to lose her temper. Part of me roared, wanting nothing more than to walk across the room and snap his arm off at the shoulder. This being socially unacceptable, I instead sat and sipped my tea. A moment later, he bent as if to whisper something in her ear, and Molly handled the issue by smashing a cupcake into his nose frosting side first. Her laughter carried across the room to me.

  By the time the speeches were finally done, I was long past ready to go. I impatiently watched as the bride and groom danced their first dance. Then the wedding party all joined them. Her obligations discharged, Molly swept across the floor to me.

  “Hey there, Tall, Dark, and Ominous. Come here often?” Without moving from my barstool, I pulled her into my arms and nuzzled her neck.

  “Right here? No. But I’m sure there must be a door with a lock somewhere nearby.” She allowed me to press against her for a moment before pulling back.

  “Behave, caveman. People are watching.” She soothed the sting of her rebuke by planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I let her drag me out of my seat and onto the dance floor.

  I held her close as we danced to a couple of slow songs. She felt perfect pressed against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I lowered my face to brush against her cheek, breathing in the citrus scent wafting from her hair. Neither of us said a whole lot. Maybe we were afraid we’d kill the moment. Then she promptly ditched me with Sanchez while she helped Stacy gather her things to leave.