Beach Wedding (Eversea Book Three) (The Butler Cove Series 5)

by Natasha Boyd

  Jazz: Can’t explain now, but shit’s getting real over here. I’m going to need you tomorrow to run interference or for some literal damage control. Jaysus. This poor girl.

  I winced. I presumed she meant the poor girl was Nicole. When I’d left this afternoon, the mother was on the verge of canceling her own daughter’s wedding. If I was Nicole, I would have eloped by now. But I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her fiancé, David. So who knew what type of guy he was.

  Jazz: Oh, and Cooper’s arriving tomorrow. Finally.

  Twelve

  Jack was gone when I awoke the next morning in the guest room at Devon’s house. The rising sun sliced through the blinds as I groped for my phone to look at the time. I’d slept in past nine.

  There was a text from Jack.

  Jack: Morning, beautiful. Sorry to be gone when you woke up. Had to go to Savannah. Missing you already. xxx

  I smiled and laid the phone on my chest. My mind went to my belly, and I slipped my palm down to rest low on my abdomen. Being pregnant didn’t seem real. A few days of feeling sick didn’t a pregnancy make. My breasts could be tender just because my period was due.

  If I did the pregnancy test right now, I’d know for sure.

  I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol or caffeine since I suspected. But if my birthday party came around, and I wasn’t drinking, there’d be no way to hide the fact I thought I might be pregnant from Jack without going to extraordinary lengths.

  Jack and I seemed on our way past his issues. He had seemed lighter since we spoke with Devon and more connected with me during our lovemaking in a way he hadn’t for a long time.

  A twinge of hunger in my stomach instantly turned to a wash of nauseating acid. I gasped and flung the comforter off, bolting to the bathroom.

  Five minutes later, I sat with my back to the tiled walls and my legs stretched out in front of me. Peeing on a stick wasn’t going to tell me anything I didn’t already know.

  I made it to my feet and shuffled to the vanity I used. There was one on the other side of the entrance to the bathroom Jack used. There, sitting on the granite, was a bleached out, almost lacy with age, conch shell. A folded note was next to it. I opened it to Jack’s messy scrawl.

  Remember how you said it was impossible to find intact conch shells in Butler Cove? I spotted this on my run. And I knew you’d see it’s wholeness, and not the shape it’s in, so I had to pick it up for you. I can’t help thinking it’s a sign. I know I’m not perfect, but I also know I’m resilient. Part of that has to do with you. The way you always see the good in me, even when I don’t. I never knew I could be loved the way you love me.

  This shell looks weary and certainly looks like it has some stories to tell, but it still made it in one piece onto our beach so it could live out its days in your care (unless you’re about to throw it in the trash—it does smell a bit—in which case ignore my lame shell analogy). And I’d like to live out my days in your care too.

  I love you.

  Jack

  I smiled, the note blurring under a sheen of tears. After brushing my teeth and showering quickly so I could get some food as soon as possible, I texted Jack back.

  Me: I love the shell. You are right. All I see is how beautiful it is.

  Rummaging in my purse, I found the last crushed pack of Saltines Jazz had given me yesterday. I didn’t think waiting till I got downstairs to eat was feasible, that was how hungry I was. And hunger, I realized, equaled stomach acid, which equaled instant nausea. Powdered Saltines it was. I’d be the size of a house soon if this eating at every belly twinge carried on. I opened the plastic and poured it into my mouth, trying to work it into something not resembling glue paste. My phone buzzed as I forced the last bite down.

  Jack: Finally, did you only just wake up?

  Me: Yes. SOMEONE wore me out last night.

  Jack: *winks*

  Me: And yes, I’d love to take care of the shell for the rest of its days.

  Jack: Just the shell?

  Me: Fine, and you.

  I drank some water to wash down the cracker, then grabbed my phone again as a thought occurred to me.

  Me: This better not be a proposal. Over text!

  Jack: *hastily deletes ring emoji*

  Me: Jack!

  Jack: Joking. Of course not. You know me better than that. I’m just making absolutely sure, since I’ve been a bit of a turd *poop emoji* recently, (and you have my potential personality traits to consider), that when I ask you, you’ll say yes. I’ve decided I’m a selfish bastard like that.

  When.

  When.

  When, not if.

  I looked at my bright eyes in the mirror ahead of me. I might be glowing. Okay, maybe it was just on the inside. I looked away from my pale and drawn complexion reflected back at me.

  Me: I know all your personality traits. Every single one. And I love them. Every single one (even the naughty ones).

  I couldn’t help adding the last part. It was hard not to just type “Yes, Yes, Yes” into the reply bar.

  Jack: That’s not an answer.

  I pursed my lips, trying to hold my happiness inside and not let it burst out in a squeal.

  Me: If you ask me, I’ll answer.

  My phone rang in my hand, making me jump.

  I answered.

  “When I ask you, not if.” Jack’s voice rumbled sexily down into my ear.

  So his choice of words, and mine, wasn’t lost on him either. My heart did an erratic dance and I allowed myself a long exhale, where a small squeal did escape.

  “Did you just squeak?”

  “No, of course not,” I said with mustered indignance while smiling so wide it was actually hard to form proper words.

  “You did.”

  “Fine. I was holding in a sneeze,” I joked. “Anyway, Jack ...” I worried my lip as I figured out the best way to let him know I didn’t want to pressure him.

  “Yes, Keri Ann.”

  “Only when you’re ready okay?”

  “Baby, I’ve been ready. I’ve been ready since you landed on the floor at my feet in those strawberry shortcake pajamas. I just ... got spooked for a moment. But never about you.”

  I snort giggled and lost my breath all at the same time. That had been the day after I met him for the very first time. The truth rang through his words, and I felt equally humbled and exhilarated under this romantic declaration. I hardly trusted myself to respond in kind. It would only sound pale in comparison.

  “They weren’t strawberry shortcake. They were Hello Kitty.” I settled for sass.

  “Babe, they were tiny, I could see your nipples and you smelled of strawberries. You landed underneath me on your back. They could have had Captain Kangaroo on them.” He chuckled, and I closed my eyes reveling in its timbre.

  “Squeak,” I said quietly and imagined him smiling.

  I didn’t want to hang up the phone.

  “Morning,” he murmured, as if belatedly remembering we hadn’t greeted each other yet.

  “Morning to you too.” I matched his intimate tone.

  He inhaled. “Wish I was with you right now.”

  The sound of a loudspeaker barked in the background of wherever he was. “Where are you?”

  “Picking up one of your birthday presents.”

  “In public?”

  “I’m wearing a hat and glasses, no worries so far.”

  “Jack. Don’t go overboard okay? It’s just a random birthday.” He was forever spoiling me with luxurious items I’d never buy for myself.

  “It’s nothing expensive.”

  That probably ruled out an engagement ring for my birthday. I found that marginally disappointing for some reason, even though I’d never been a fan of combining celebrations. “I trust you.”

  “Good. So I was thinking I hadn’t taken you out on a date in a while. It’s going to get crazy with your friends coming back in town, your birthday and then Thanksgiving. How about I pick you up just before five p.m.?”r />
  “Five? Are we going for the blue hair special at the Grill?”

  “Smart ass. I want to see the sunset. And it’s your favorite time of day.”

  “It is.”

  “Well then. Wear a dress.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. Please, baby, wear a dress because I like to live on the possibility you’ll let me slip my hand up your skirt if I play my cards right.”

  “You creepy old reprobate.” I giggled.

  “And I love it even more when you use big words.”

  I huffed. “Well, you’re forgiven then. And yes, I’ll wear a dress for you.”

  We exchanged good-byes, and I mashed the end call button on my phone with a ridiculous grin on my face. Now to find a dress. I headed to the hanging wardrobe, Monica usually hung stuff up in there she was giving me. It was like having my very own store to shop at. Except I didn’t pay for anything, which frequently drove me crazy when I saw some of the price tags. But Monica wouldn’t accept payment, claiming she’d never get to return the items anyway.

  The only dress was an ankle length gray silk dress with spaghetti straps that looked like it would drape and cling in all the right places. I probably wouldn’t be able to wear a bra. It was sexy and elegant, perhaps too elegant for Butler Cove. But, I decided, if Jack wanted me in a dress, I was going to stun him.

  I went downstairs to eat and then headed to see Jazz. I had a to do list that included checking in with the florist for the white roses and sourcing ribbon. Now I’d added booking myself in to the spa for a couple of treatments, a mani-pedi and a hair blow out for my wild curls.

  Jazz came to my rescue and offered to drop and pick me up instead of me cycling after getting my hair done. I met David, Nicole’s fiancé, who wasn’t what I imagined at all. I thought maybe someone taller, kinder, funny, maybe? Also he seemed to get along better with Nicole’s mother than with his bride-to-be.

  I didn’t blame Jazz needing a break. She’d left them with an afternoon off to read and relax and listen to music from three local bands she’d provisionally booked for the wedding.

  “A date! Do you know where he’s taking you?” Jazz asked.

  The way Jazz had dropped everything when I knew how busy she was to insist on driving me, suddenly struck me as suspicious. “No idea.” I laughed and shook my head. I had a very strong instinct that tonight was going to be my surprise birthday party. Especially since my birthday was tomorrow.

  “Just don’t have them do anything too perfect with your hair, in case it’s windy where you’re going.”

  I glanced at Jazz, wondering if I should act suspicious or oblivious about my birthday party being tonight. “What do you know?”

  “Nothing,” she assured me, eyes wide. “But he mentioned watching the sunset first, right? So that means you’ll probably be outside somewhere on the inland side.”

  I decided to act oblivious. If she was going to this much effort to organize a surprise birthday party, then the least I could do was to pretend to be surprised. “Good point.” I told her about the dress, wondering if it was too much.

  “No way. I think it’s perfect. You never dress up unless it’s for one of Jack’s events, do it for yourself. Also, you won’t be able to wear dresses like that much longer, you need to take advantage of your killer body.”

  “Ugh. Thanks for the reminder, bestie.”

  “No problem,” she sang. “I’m gonna be an auntie.”

  “Stop.”

  “So are you going to tell him? Don’t you usually drink a glass of wine on a date?”

  I frowned. “I didn’t think of that. I can pretend to have a headache and not want to make it worse?”

  “Or just order the wine and pretend sip it.”

  “I’m really not ready to tell him yet. We are so close to him just getting back to himself. I really don’t want to throw the pregnancy in there to muddy the waters.”

  I proceeded to fill Jazz in on the conversation with Jack that morning, and that Devon had told him he didn’t have to do any more work on the movie.

  “Maybe that’s all he needed, was to talk through it.”

  I rolled down the window to get the salt marsh breeze as we drove over Broad Creek. “I guess. I mean I know what it’s like to keep something bottled up until it becomes this massive thing.”

  “Ha. You and me both. That’s where the phrase came from: a problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “I hope it’s more than halved. Regardless, I think he sees the feelings he was having more objectively now, anyway.”

  “Did you pee on the stick yet?” Jazz took her eyes off the road for a second to glance at me.

  “No.”

  “So you might not be pregnant.”

  I laid my palm on my lower abdomen. “I definitely am. But being pregnant seems sort of objective. I don’t feel connected to it at all.”

  “Because it’s the size of a fingernail cutting. Just pee on the stick already. I want to be sure.”

  “But then I have to tell him.”

  “You have to tell him at some point anyway. Tell him tomorrow on your birthday.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m already feeling like shit because he isn’t the first to know. Look. One step at a time. I understand Jack. I need to give him some time with being over his mental hurdle about his father. And call me old fashioned but I’d love the proposal before the baby, even if it’s destined to be a shotgun wedding anyway.”

  “I’ve always wondered.” Jazz flicked her turn signal on as we neared the strip mall where the salon was. “Is it shotgun because it happens so fast or shotgun because someone’s pointing a gun at the bloke who got their daughter pregnant?”

  I thought of Joey. “Or their sister pregnant. And it’s the latter. I guess it’s a good thing Joey was never super into guns.”

  “A really good thing.” Jazz bugged her eyes wide. “If he knew Jack was second guessing getting married he would flip out.”

  “Luckily, we seem to have averted that crisis.” I opened the door to climb out. “But I still don’t know when it’s going to happen.”

  “Hopefully, before you start showing.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Hopefully,” I said and shut the door.

  Jazz rolled down my window and leaned across the console. “It will,” she said with conviction. “Jack adores you. He’s wanted to get a ring on it forever.” She wiggled her fingers in a light wave and gunned the engine.

  I waved back and then headed into the salon to get prettied up for my date-slash-birthday party.

  Thirteen

  When I got back to the beach house with hardly a moment to spare, after my beauty regimen-filled afternoon, there was no sign of anyone.

  The bathroom held the warm humidity of a recently taken shower and Jack’s piney scent. Clearly he’d gotten ready before me, but now he was nowhere to be found.

  I carefully applied my makeup, thankful I’d showered this morning so I wouldn’t ruin my hair. They’d managed to tame my curls I normally tied up in a messy bun, to a more demure, soft wave I was happy to leave down. It didn’t stop me from adding a hair tie to my wrist just in case.

  I slipped the dress on, pairing it with a dangling set of clear antique glass earrings, and stared at myself in the closet mirror for a long minute. It felt like too much, but I couldn’t deny the dress was breathtaking. It was made for me. I narrowed my eyes as I stared at my chest and decided I was definitely taking a cardigan. First of all, I’d be freezing, and that would lead to a show not meant for anyone’s eyes but Jack’s. I grabbed the cream cashmere cardigan that had been a present from Jack a few Christmases ago and slicked on some nude lip gloss.

  I walked downstairs wondering where Jack was, just as my phone buzzed.

  Jack: You ready?

  Me: Yes, where are you?

  Jack: Can you meet me down by the pool?

  Me: Is this you “picking me up?”

  Jack: I’m picking you
up from the pool deck because the light is stunning out here and I want to watch you walk down the stairs to me.

  I exhaled a happy bubble of excitement and tucked my phone and lip gloss into my small evening clutch.

  I tugged the cardigan tighter around me in the chilly breeze that blew in off the ocean as I stepped out the back door of Devon’s beach house. The beach beyond the dunes I could see in my elevated position was cast in bronze as the sun set behind us.

  Jack was waiting for me down on the pool patio. He was wearing dark, indigo jeans that were neatly faded and distressed in all the right places and a dark jacket that set off his brilliant green eyes perfectly.

  Jack looked up as I descended the steps and broke into a huge grin. “Wow,” he said. “You look stunning.”

  “Likewise.” I stopped half way down, sighing happily. I pressed a hand to my chest. “Swoon effect. Give me a moment.”

  He laughed and reached out his hand. “Come here, you.”

  I let him pull me down the rest of the way and into his arms. He dropped a kiss on my nose. “I hope you weren’t expecting that lip gloss to stay on until we go out.”

  “I’d expect nothing less of you than to kiss it off.”

  He didn’t let me go right away, just hugged me to him, tucking my head under his chin and rubbing a hand up and down my spine. “Do you remember the first day you came here and swam with me?” he asked.

  I pulled back so I could see his face.

  Of course, I remembered it. It was the first day we kissed. The day he confided in me about his upbringing. The day I freaked out and ran away only to have him come knocking at my door hours later.