by Liza Street
Will noticed, suddenly, the hulking man standing next to his sister. Marius. He and Marius had met very briefly a couple weeks ago. Will nodded at the guy, said hello, and shook his hand.
“I’m gonna go up there, too,” Will said. “I should be in the wedding. Do you think that would be okay with Summer and Jackson?”
Hayley’s mouth dropped open in surprise before she said, “They’d love that. You go first. Just stand up at the third step on the groom’s side. You know where that is?”
“I’ve watched movies, I know where to go.”
“Okay,” she said, then gave him a big shove through the doors.
Several people turned to stare at him as he stumbled forward.
“Sorry,” Hayley whispered behind him, her voice sincere. “Didn’t mean to push so hard.”
He recovered his balance and pasted a neutral expression on his face. The piano music faltered for just a half-beat before resuming.
The chapel was nearly empty, and he didn’t recognize any of the twenty or so people here. Friends and family of the bride, probably. A pastor waited at the front, along with Jackson and the maid of honor, and Will walked forward, trying to minimize his limp as much as possible.
Jackson’s grin grew wider as Will approached, and he stepped out of formation to pull Will into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said into Will’s ear.
Will smiled back and stood on Jackson’s left.
As Marius and Hayley marched forward, Will sneaked a glance over at Ellie.
She looked…amazing. And amazing wasn’t even a good enough word for it. He couldn’t see much around the piano, just her head and neck. Her eyes, behind her glasses, were focused on the music in front of her. Her mouth was slightly pinched, and that little furrow between her eyebrows signaled that she was concentrating.
Concentrating on avoiding him?
No, he couldn’t give himself that much credit in her life. For all he knew, she wasn’t just dating Nathan Emory—she could be married to him.
But Will hadn’t seen a ring on her finger in the photos Hayley had sent.
Not that he had looked. Besides, empty fingers didn’t necessarily mean someone wasn’t married. Not all married couples exchanged rings.
He remembered the first time he’d proposed to her. They’d been seventeen and in the middle of an epic squirt gun fight at her mom’s place, right after her parents had gotten divorced. Will, Jackson, and Hayley had gone over there to cheer Ellie up, and Will had loaded his dad’s truck with all their Nerf Super Soakers.
After Hayley and Jackson heard Eleanor’s mom offering cookies and lemonade, they’d scampered off to the kitchen. And Will had held Eleanor at squirt-gun-point and demanded her hand in marriage. “Marry me, Ellie McGowan,” he’d said.
“Ellie?” she said, her nose wrinkling.
“It’s how I think of you in my head sometimes.” He pumped the Super Soaker. “Capitulate to my demand.”
She’d laughed before sashaying forward. He’d been unable to look away from her large, curvy breasts, which were plastered with the wet cotton of her t-shirt. She’d looked like a comic book heroine with her rounded breasts and narrow waist.
She saw him looking. “Like what you see?” she’d asked.
Words failed him, so he nodded.
“You wanna marry it?” she’d asked.
He nodded again.
Then she squirted him, right in the crotch. His mouth dropped open in shock at what she’d done, and in shock at the cold water.
Her expression had morphed from something like playfulness to “oh shit,” and she turned and ran.
“I will get you, Ellie McGowan!” Will had shouted, running after her.
And he’d chased her for the next eight years.
Chapter Seven
Eleanor couldn’t believe her eyes. Will Jaynes, here in the chapel. Not ten yards away from her. She felt dizzy, and her breathing was uneven. Was she having a heart attack? Was this the beginning of the end? She was desperate to use the Ask Dr. Bridges symptom checker, but this was the middle of a wedding ceremony.
The notes of Pachelbel’s Canon flowed effortlessly, her fingers hitting the correct keys in the correct order and with the correct timing. But inside, she was a wreck wrapped in a catastrophe, sprinkled with chaos.
Deep breaths. This wasn’t a heart attack. She’d been in and out of therapy enough times to step back and recognize that she was currently in a stressful situation, and that stressful situations triggered her anxiety about illness.
But now her heart hurt. Not with a physical ache, but an emotional one. Because the man she’d loved long ago now stood so close. It was what she’d yearned for and dreamed of for two whole years before finally giving up on him ever returning.
Summer, the bride, glided down the aisle with her parents, her brown skin looking rich and smooth against her simple white gown. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and Eleanor didn’t think she’d ever seen someone so beautiful, so in love. This wedding was a true union of two people who cared deeply for each other.
As soon as Summer’s parents left her side to sit in one of the pews, Eleanor found a good spot to end the Canon and let her hands rest in her lap. She flicked her gaze to Will.
He was staring right at her.
Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she immediately looked down to her hands. She’d probably just imagined his gaze. The fact that it had felt as powerful as his touch…she’d imagined it. She imagined a lot of things, these days, from broken toes to heart murmurs to flesh-eating diseases.
The ceremony passed quickly. A brief speech about love, an exchange of vows, a kiss, and then Eleanor played Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring while the wedding party walked back down the aisle to exit the chapel. She ran through a couple of extra pieces while the stragglers in the chapel made small talk, before everyone headed to the community center down the street for the reception.
Eleanor had changed her mind about the reception. She would not be attending it. She’d much rather go home, let Fido ignore her, and allow Dr. Bridges to help her contemplate the possibility that she was developing necrotizing fasciitis on her forearm.
Will was long gone—he’d disappeared with the wedding party to get their photos taken before the reception. Not that she’d paid any attention whatsoever. Eleanor gathered up her sheet music, stuffed it into the book bag she’d hidden behind the back of the pulpit, and marched out of the chapel.
She carefully walked down the steps, then through the little paved trail to the rear parking lot. Her Subaru was one of the last cars in the lot, and a man leaned against the hood.
Her heart skipped in her chest until she realized it was Nathan Emory.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Nathan,” she said.
He shrugged. “I heard Will Jaynes was here a couple weeks ago.”
“That’s none of my business.”
He ran his hands through his hair and fixed her with his dark brown eyes. “I wanted to say I was sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about The A-Hole.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement on the other side of the parking lot. Will-shaped movement. It was Will, sitting in the cab of a truck. Why hadn’t he gone with the others for pictures? She turned back to Nathan.
“Fine. Say what you have to say.”
“It was wrong of me to kiss you when you didn’t want to be kissed. I realize that now although I didn’t at the time, and I’ll never do that to another woman as long as I live. I found someone—a great woman who I’m already falling madly in love with, and I’m embarrassed at the idea she’d ever find out about me acting like such a jerk.”
Eleanor stared at him. Was this really Nathan Emory? “Wow,” she said.
“Yeah, I know. Love…changed me, Eleanor. I keep thinking back to how we both were in high school. Our parents all split up at the same time, you know? Within a year of each other? I thought that meant we had something in common.”
/>
Eleanor remembered. She hadn’t wanted anything in common with Nathan Emory, not like that, at least. He’d been a class clown, and not a very funny one, at that. “And you’ve fallen in love?” she said.
“Yeah. It’s a Christmas miracle. She and I—we have this connection. It’s like what you and Will have, you know?”
“Had,” Eleanor said. “What Will and I had. And look, Nathan,” she added in a whisper. “Just be careful, with your heart, okay? Because as magical as I thought things were with Will, that all ended.”
Nathan shook his head. “Nah. I can see him over there now, watching us. He’s jealous. Possessive. He’s loved you since middle school. As soon as I heard he was in town two weeks ago, I knew why. He’s come back for you.”
Will had been in town two weeks ago? Nobody had said anything. He hadn’t come to see her. And Nathan thought Will was possessive of Eleanor? She wanted to laugh. Instead she stood, dumbstruck, while Nathan stepped forward. He held his arms out, not forcing her into any kind of hug, just waiting to see if she’d accept it.
He’d been a creep to her two weeks ago, but now he was madly in love with someone. And even though he was dead wrong about Will being back for Eleanor, at least he was trying to do the right thing.
She hugged him quickly. “I’m happy for you. I hope everything works out.”
Off to the side, Will’s truck started up. He drove away, not looking in her direction.
“It will,” Nathan said. “True love wins in the end.”
She pursed her lips to keep from saying, Not freaking likely. Nathan turned and walked out of the parking lot. Eleanor got into her car, started it up, and drove toward home.
Will, back in town for her. Ha. No, he was here for this wedding. And two weeks ago he’d been in town, and she hadn’t even known he was here.
Ten years ago, he’d asked her to marry him. It hadn’t been the first time he’d proposed, either. They’d just graduated, and Eleanor had gotten into the music program in the tiny liberal arts college in Lakewood, an hour away. She’d gotten on her bike and rushed over to the library, where Will was working. She’d gone to the window at the front of the library and held the fat college envelope above her head, grinning like a fool, until he came to the library’s front entrance.
His grin had mirrored the one she felt on her face. “You got in,” he said.
“I know, I can’t believe it!” she’d exclaimed.
“I can. Marry me, Ellie. As soon as you’re done with school, let’s get married.”
She’d laughed. “You know I’m never getting married, right? But if I ever did, it would be to you, okay?”
Something had passed across his face. Disappointment? But it was gone before she’d had a chance to figure it out. And for no reason other than the fact that it had felt right, she’d leaned forward and kissed him.
Even now, heading home in her shitty old Subaru, Eleanor could remember the way his lips had felt on hers. That kiss had flipped some kind of switch in Eleanor. Up until then, she’d been merely practicing music, but after the kiss, she was living in the music. Every moment was a song. She’d come alive with that kiss.
Even though she hadn’t accepted him at that point, several years later she’d finally listened to her heart and her body, and she’d given herself to that man. All the love she’d been saving up, afraid to set free after watching the disastrous end of her parents’ marriage—she’d taken all of it and poured it into Will.
And as soon as she’d done it, he’d skipped town.
When she came to the turn-off for her street, Eleanor slowed. And then she drove right past the turn. Stupid Will, with his stupid perfect lips. Coming back to Huntwood and making her think about him like this again.
Why should Eleanor be the one to skip the wedding reception? Why should she hunker down in her living room, feeling sorry for herself and wondering again why he’d left her? No, Eleanor had done absolutely nothing wrong.
And it was time Will was made aware of that fact.
As soon as it was safe, she turned around and headed in the other direction, toward the community center where the reception was taking place.
Because gosh darn it, Eleanor was going to give Will a piece of her mind.
Chapter Eight
Will smiled through more photos with his brother and sister and their mates. They were gathered in an outdoor gazebo behind the community center. A blanket of snow had turned the garden into a winter paradise, and he could appreciate the possibilities from a photographer’s perspective. Jackson and Summer would have beautiful photographs to remind them of their wedding day.
Every time the camera flashed, his mind returned to the image of Ellie standing with Nathan Emory, outside the church.
He hadn’t wanted to believe it when Hayley told him, but maybe she and Emory really were together. Their conversation had looked intense. Every moment that she’d stared at Nathan in that way had been another stab of pain through his chest.
And it was nothing less than Will deserved.
“Is this almost over yet?” he muttered to Jackson through gritted teeth.
“If you’d been here on time, we’d be finished already, dickhead,” Jackson said back.
“Don’t say dickhead during our wedding photos, dickhead,” Summer hissed at Jackson before turning her radiant face back toward the photographer and smiling sweetly.
Will might have been on time for photos, if he hadn’t been waiting for Ellie in the parking lot. And then that fucking idiot Emory had shown up.
Will kept his mouth in a smile through the rest of the photos. Group shot after group shot, until finally he was released.
The wedding party made their way back indoors. Hayley came up and linked her arm with Will’s. “Hey, jizz slinger. You look like someone’s torturing you.”
“Someone is,” he said, giving her a pointed look.
“Let’s get some drinks then,” she said, dragging him over to the refreshments counter.
For a small wedding, Jackson and Summer seemed to have gone all out on the booze. Will ordered a whiskey. Hayley wrinkled her nose at him and asked for a beer for herself.
He leaned against the counter, watching Hayley from the corner of his eye. She was all grown up, his little sister. With a mate of her own. Marius wasn’t far away, and as Will watched, Marius’s gaze tracked over to Hayley more than once.
“He seems like an okay guy,” Will said.
Hayley raised her eyebrows. “He’s more than okay. He’s the cat’s pajamas. The bee’s knees. He puts the fuck in fucking awesome.”
Will laughed. “I got it, thanks.”
“When are you going to settle down?” she asked, sipping her beer.
“When I meet my mate, I guess.”
Hayley’s light blue eyes narrowed. “Really.”
Will shrugged. He didn’t want to get into it with her. If she didn’t ask any questions, he wouldn’t have to talk around them in half-truths.
Some kind of unspoken communication happened between Marius and Hayley, and she grinned.
“Gotta go dance with my man,” Hayley said. She patted Will’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure you’ll meet your mate soon. Maybe a lot sooner than you think.”
Then off she went.
Will turned around to ask for another whiskey. The guy in charge of drinks was busy with a couple of other people huddled close to the table, so Will waited, wondering just what Hayley thought she knew.
And then, someone tapped his shoulder.
All his senses went on high alert. He gave a quick sniff. Cinnamon and hot chocolate—it was Ellie. His Ellie. The scent recognition went straight to his cock, which stiffened in response. Quickly, he reminded himself that Ellie wasn’t his anymore, if she ever really had been. If someone like him could call someone else his own. That calmed his dick down.
He turned around slowly, savoring her scent as he moved.
She was looking up at him, all five feet, two inches
of her glorious curvy body turned toward him. Her hair was still piled high on her head, and it looked like the whole unsteady hairdo would come cascading down if he pulled out one of her hairpins.
He’d never been tempted to do something so fucking much in his life.
“Ellie,” he said, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face.
“You, William Jaynes, are an asshole,” she said. “You have some nerve coming here. I would say more, but I don’t want to make a scene at your brother’s wedding.”
He took a faltering step toward her. He lifted his hand as if to touch her, before letting it fall. “We could go somewhere else then, if you want.”
“You—” She stopped. Her lower lip was trembling, as was her chin.
Shit, he didn’t want her to cry. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away her frown.
“You’re not worth it,” she said. “This was a mistake. I said what I needed to say, and now I’m going home.”
She turned around and walked away, her high-heeled boots clipping smartly on the linoleum floor. Will stared after her, aghast. That was it? That was his one chance to talk to Ellie, and he’d screwed it up? He hadn’t said anything to her, not really.
And there she was, walking out the door in her deep blue sweater dress.
He raced after her, not caring that his limp was more pronounced when he rushed. He caught up with her just outside, as she stomped past the gazebo.
“Ellie,” he called.
“Don’t call me that,” she said. “My name is Eleanor. Nobody calls me Ellie.”
He could hear it, the break in her voice. It gutted him, thinking he was the cause of the hurt.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said. “For the way I left. For not giving you a real goodbye.”
She turned her nose in the air. “I don’t care about you now and I didn’t care about you then.”
The lie was like a giant brick wall between them. Will could see it. He could practically reach out and touch it.