She laughed, pointing at a woman who was probably in her sixties but trying to pull off forty-five. “Did you see the lady in yellow? She’s managed to do the electric slide to every song that’s come on.”
“An undervalued talent these days. If only she hadn’t almost knocked several people overboard in the process.”
She giggled quietly, and then even harder when Jake looked at her with a huge grin on his face. “What?” she asked.
“That was a cute laugh, that’s all,” he said. “Never heard you do it before.”
“Oh,” she said, a little embarrassed. She instinctually grabbed at her necklace, heat warming her cheeks. Here she was, smiling and laughing with him again. More than she had in … forever. It felt nice, and the time on the boat had gone really quickly since she’d been enjoying herself. Too quickly, because she felt like she could cruise over the lake forever. On its last stretch of the trip, the pontoon had dropped anchor in a quiet lagoon not far from where they’d started. The sun was warm, but they were mostly shielded from the blaze by the boat’s cover. And the slight breeze coming off the lake was exquisite. Even with loud music blasting through the speakers, she found it relaxing.
Shoving her hands in her pockets, she stared out at the passengers. Some dancing, some talking. One couple seemed to have met that afternoon and were already snuggled into a corner on the far bench, having an intimate whispered conversation. Alex watched as the man slyly touched the woman’s thigh. And then a bit higher. Was that how fast things moved with couples these days? Would they go home with each other? And how had she become so out of touch with what modern couples did? Yes, she’d been with Nate for nearly her entire adult life, and yes she’d been a bit sheltered having been living a military life for so long. But she suddenly felt twice her age, even though she was probably the same age or younger than many of these people.
Shaking off her sullen thoughts, she saw several people finding partners as a slow song came on. The first one of the day. She and Jake continued to lean against the railing, taking in the entertainment of other people having a good time.
“This is what it’s like working a wedding at the Stag,” he said, leaning down toward her. “Kind of voyeuristic. Stone sober, watching intoxicated strangers enjoy themselves.”
“I bet. Seems kind of fun though, and hearing Dean and Charlotte talk, there are a lot of interesting things that happen.”
“Sometimes, yes. Most don’t get too crazy, but one time a mother of the groom got so wasted she ended up on the dance floor with her skirt hiked up over her underwear trying to do the splits.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“The funniest part was that the groom’s new stepmother was the one who ended up helping her up and getting her out of there. She ended up passed out on one of our lobby couches.”
“Wow. That’s a true act of decency. Wonder if they were friendly before that,” Alex said, shaking her head. “How often do you have to work weddings?”
“These days it averages about one a month since Dean, TJ, John, and I rotate. Occasionally Jen does it, but only if necessary.”
“It still blows my mind that you guys do weddings.”
“Yeah, crazy, right? But it’s turned out to be insanely profitable. We may not have stayed in business long enough to see our first barrels uncasked without that extra income. A lot of distilleries struggle these days, and plenty fold before the three-year mark.”
“I’m proud of you all.”
“Thank you,” he said. His hands were angled back, resting on the metal behind him, and she couldn’t help noticing how muscular they were. Jake was handsome. The kind of man she might have noticed before. She noticed him now, but things were different. She was different, and as good looking as he was, she also noticed all the ways he was different from Nate.
Her brother had always joked that Nate looked like Jamie Foxx, and while she’d seen that a little, in her mind he’d just looked like himself. Muscular, but tall and lean. She could still remember meeting him for the first time, his smile lighting up the room. But his personality had been her favorite part because he was funny and sweet in a more reserved way. He didn’t draw attention to himself and he wasn’t a flirt. In fact, she’d had to ask him out first because he was a gentleman almost to a fault. But once they’d gotten closer and she’d seen the private side of him, he’d made her laugh constantly with his wit and intelligent sarcasm. He’d also made her swoon with how much he loved her and how he was never afraid to show it, in front of anyone or at any time. It was not uncommon for him to hold her hand or place kisses on her temple, no matter who was around or what they were doing.
She looked away, unsure of why she was even processing thoughts of this nature. It seemed like she wouldn’t think of these things for a few days, and then bam, they’d hit her like a lead weight out of nowhere, sometimes knocking the breath from her lungs.
This was why keeping busy was critical.
Another slow song came on. One of her favorites from Adele. She heard herself saying as much out loud, and Jake angled himself toward her.
“Then we should dance.”
Her head jerked up. “No way.”
He shrugged. “Okay, no big deal. Just an idea since we’re just standing here like party poopers.”
“We’re not party poopers,” she teased. “We’re tired from working.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We passed out drinks and Stag koozies. You can’t be worn out.”
She considered his idea. Maybe dancing would be nice. How long had it been since she had? Years. Pushing off the railing, she held out a hand. “Fine.”
With a quiet chuckle, he pushed off also and took hold of her fingers gently. His skin was warm and his grip firm as he led her out to the sunlit section of the boat deck. About five other couples were slow dancing.
Turning to her, Jake slid a hand around her waist, was careful not to pull her too close. Their right hands remained clasped as he smiled down at her and then slowly began to sway.
“Okay?” he asked.
She could only nod, because it was okay. Nice even.
It was much warmer in the sun, which was now hanging lower in the sky, just above the treetops so that its warmth was directly on her face. She closed her eyes, listening to the water slapping against the boat, the birds chirping as they flew overhead, and the music coming out of the speaker above them. A soft breeze pushed her hair off her face and caressed her skin. She inhaled a bit as they swayed back and forth, and her lips quirked as she realized how nice it was to feel so relaxed and happy. This was the feeling she was constantly striving for and often falling short of.
When she opened her eyes and looked up, Jake was staring down at her. She flushed. “Sorry, I was just … enjoying the weather.”
“I see that. You looked far away.”
Funny he would say that, because for once she’d felt very present in her surroundings. So often over the past year she’d wished to be anywhere else. Go back in time to a specific moment with Nate or even her parents. A day where she’d felt nothing but love and happiness. A time where loss and pain weren’t a constant in her life. Or maybe into the future, or even an alternate reality, where everyone she loved was still whole and living.
She shook her head. “No, I was right here. This is good.”
His eyes darkened, brow narrowing. “I want you to be good, Alex.”
Their eyes met and held. “I know you do. Thank you.”
She had the sudden urge to stroke her necklace, but her hands were busy holding Jake. “This feels kind of like a middle-school dance, doesn’t it?” she asked.
When he grinned, she was reminded how ridiculously handsome he was, his teeth perfectly straight, and the creases that bracketed his mouth showing off how often he showed them. “Kind of, although you are much prettier than the girls I went to school with. And it’s probably been that long since I danced like this.”
“Me too,” she said, tryin
g not to think about his compliment. “Except…” She unclasped their hands and reached up to wrap both of hers around his neck. “It would have been more like this, wouldn’t it? Super awkward.”
“Yes, I remember that.” Both of his arms went around her waist, and this time he did pull her a little tighter against his body. “And us guys would try to slowly get closer and closer.”
“Don’t underestimate us girls, we wanted to be close too. Well, we did if we liked you.”
“Yeah, I know I got a few pity dances.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine that.” She smiled up at him, noting how close their faces were, her nose inches from his chin. “I bet you were as handsome in seventh grade as you are now.”
His lips quirked, and she was suddenly embarrassed. It wasn’t as if she’d never complimented his attractiveness before, just never while they were holding onto each other. Thankfully he didn’t respond, just pulled her closer. Dipping her chin, she wasn’t sure where to put her face without it being awkward, so finally she just leaned in and rested her cheek on the front of his shoulder.
That left her nose nestled near his collar. He smelled good, like a spicy aftershave and sundrenched skin. She watched his neck bob as he swallowed and then let her eyes close once more, just enjoying the embrace of another person. His arms were big and strong, bracketed on each side of her ribs, hands locked on her lower back.
His head brushed against hers, turning. Had he just pressed his lips into her forehead? Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t move. Could he feel her heart pounding against his chest? When her gaze landed on a few of the women standing off to the side watching them with interest, she stood up straight and slowly pulled out of his arms. Thankfully the song ended at the same time, immediately leading into another pop song.
“Thank you for that,” she said.
“It was my pleasure,” he said, giving her a wink.
And that was when she understood the full extent of Jake Cooper’s potency. He was a charmer, and it made sense that he had groupies from past tours. He was dangerous, so maybe it was a good idea she was here to keep him from breaking hearts. Other women’s hearts, not hers obviously, because hers had already been broken.
Six
The next afternoon they left right after the second cruise. Jake was tired, having been up half the night trying to get comfortable on the pull-out bed in the main area of the Stag Wagon. He didn’t regret having Alex come along, but damn, he was now lamenting the fact that he didn’t get to sleep in the bedroom. But there was no way he’d have asked her to take the pull-out.
Now they were headed toward Memphis to attend the Boots and Beers country music festival. The drive had been quiet, Alex scribbling in some red book, giving him time to imagine how he’d act or what he’d say when Amanda Frye came by their booth. If he was lucky, she’d stay away.
About an hour and a half outside of town, Jake glanced across the truck cabin for the fiftieth time. Alex was still writing. She hadn’t been at it continually—sometimes she’d gaze out her window, but then eventually her pen would scratch again.
“You must not get motion sickness,” he said, breaking the long stretch of silence. He liked hearing her voice. He’d never realized how boring the drives had been before.
She stopped and looked up. “Not really. Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I can’t have my head down like that in a moving vehicle. Definitely can’t read or write.”
“Guess I’m used to it by now, being in the Army, there’s a lot of moving around in bumpy vehicles. I probably wasn’t always this unaffected.”
“Makes sense.” He focused on the road for a minute, watching for the exit she’d briefly made sure to tell him to take ten minutes earlier. The woman could multitask, that was for sure. “You writing a book or something?”
Her head came up again. “No. It’s just a journal.”
He nodded, glancing out the rearview at the RV. “Like, a diary? To talk about what you do every day?” Yes he was being nosy, but he wanted to talk.
“I guess.”
He could tell she was amused with his question.
“I don’t write everything I do. More like … I try to keep track of my feelings.”
“Ah, okay. Sounds like an interesting idea.” And also seemed like something she’d do. It did sort of surprise him though that she’d never told him about it.
“Remember when I read a bunch of books last fall about grief?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, several of them mentioned writing in a journal. One in particular talked a lot about how you shouldn’t suppress any emotion that came up, but just really feel them and let them come through fully. No matter what they are. Sadness, anger … guilt.”
“That makes sense.” He’d learned over the past year that even if he didn’t completely understand or relate to what she was saying, it was best to just agree or say it made sense. Probably not the best way to handle it, but it seemed to appease her every time, and his main goal had always been to make her feel better even if he’d been coming through a screen half a world away.
“It helps me to write my feelings down,” she went on. “Sometimes I don’t know why I feel certain feelings on any given day. It’s frustrating when I have like … three good days and then wake up furious or sad. If I start writing, it just kind of helps my thoughts sort themselves out. And then I try and set an intention for each day.”
“I see.” He realized now that as deep as their conversations had gotten over messaging, they could have gotten deeper had they been face-to-face. He chanced another personal question. “I’m curious. What would make you feel guilty?”
Her gaze cut quickly to his, but she didn’t look upset or shocked by his question.
“You can tell me to mind my own business if you want.”
“Why would I do that? You probably know more about what I’ve been going through than most people.”
Was that true? He still felt like there were parts of her he knew nothing about, which meant she’d been holding a lot inside. This guilt was something she’d never touched on before.
“I feel guilty…” She hesitated to go on.
Gripping the wheel, he waited to see if she’d continue. He hadn’t necessarily been asking her to bare her soul, but hell, if that’s what she felt like doing, whatever. He’d listen if that’s what she needed.
“It’s complicated. There are different things I feel guilty about. Happiness. Making future plans that he wouldn’t have wanted. Like taking the job in Virginia for example. I’d have never done that if Nate was alive. Speaking of which, just being alive makes me feel guilty.”
He could see that last one, although it was unrealistic. That helicopter accident was obviously no one’s fault.
“For a long time, smiling or laughing made me feel guilty,” she said. Jake glanced over quickly to find her staring out her passenger window. “I can vividly recall lying in bed one night last August and realizing I’d gone the entire day without crying. It was the first time since Nate’s death. The guilt in that moment was so intense, I ended up crying so hard I could barely breathe.”
A quiet moment passed between them, and Jake regretted bringing it up. Obviously since she hadn’t mentioned it when it happened, she hadn’t wanted to share it with him. He heard her shift in her seat. “I’m just so terrified of forgetting him. That every sign of moving forward is letting too much of him go. Even though I know it’s necessary for me to heal and be happy.”
Her voice quivered on the last word, and he found himself rearranging his grip on the wheel and using his right hand to reach over and gently squeeze hers where it rested on the center console. Surprisingly, she flipped it over palm up and grabbed him back.
She’d seemed to be doing so well the past few months, and certainly since she’d been home the past week. Maybe that’s just what she wanted everyone to believe. He could easily imagine her not wanting to come back home and be a downer for
anyone.
“I don’t think you’ll ever forget him, Alex. You’ll always have a piece of him with you,” he said quietly, trying to keep his eyes on the road and hoping he was saying the right thing. Before getting to know Alex, he’d had absolutely zero experience with grief on this level. He’d lost several grandparents, and a teammate on his high school baseball team had committed suicide their junior year. But for this, losing the love of your life, he had no point of reference. Absolutely no pain to compare it to because he’d never even been in love with a woman.
“I hope so,” she whispered, still holding his hand. “It’s a balance though. Wanting to think of him constantly, and hold on … but also wishing he would just go away.” She glanced over at him. “There’s more of that guilt. Because how awful is that?”
“Not awful at all, Alex. I don’t know, but I think your feelings are probably pretty normal. Besides, everyone knows you loved Nate, so it’s no one’s place to judge how you handle this.”
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand again.
He passed a sign that signaled a rest stop a mile ahead, so he made the decision to give them a moment to get out and get some fresh air. They were still touching when he came upon the exit. There was no way he could maneuver this beast of a vehicle and hitched fifth-wheel with one hand, but just pulling away from her without warning didn’t feel right. He lifted their joined hands, quickly leaned down to give her knuckle a quick kiss, and then placed her hand down on the console so he could manage the steering wheel.
Her head turned back to the front when he did it, but she didn’t look at him. Hopefully she took that for what it was, a kind gesture. He wasn’t trying to come on to her. Far from it.
“We stopping?”
“Yeah. Thought we could stretch our legs and maybe hit the restroom before we navigate the city. That okay?”
“Of course.”
After he parked in the RV area, she grabbed her purse, and before he could say anything she took off. He sat there a moment, watching her walk across the parking lot in her denim cutoffs and tank top. Her hair in a low ponytail. Damn, she had amazing legs.
Maybe for You--A Whiskey and Weddings Novel Page 8