Deny Me

by Fiona Cole

  The rooms were simple. Everything was white and only contrasted by the wooden accents and the terracotta tiles throughout. Past my king-sized bed were glass doors leading out to a large veranda and the most gorgeous view of white sand and the bluest ocean I’d ever seen.

  I dropped my suitcase at the door and rushed to open the doors so I could hear the waves crashing against the shore. I inhaled the salty air, trying to take in all the wonder stretched out before me.

  With a smile on my face, I unpacked and fell flat on my bed, closing my eyes and listening to the beauty of the ocean singing to me.

  The following night found us at one of the many restaurants located at the resort. They had blocked the top floor of the restaurant with white sheer curtains that gave us some privacy for the rehearsal dinner, but still allowed the hypnotic beat from the steel drums to reach us. The other side was open to the ocean, and the waves’ soft roar offered contrast to the music below.

  We all sat around one table with our own private bar off in the corner. I felt like I had been deliciously dizzy all day from the alcohol they served morning, noon, and night. The women had spent the day stretched out under the warm sun, holding coconuts filled with rum. If you ever ran out, a young Jamaican man would come by and happily hand you another.

  The guys had walked down the beach, exploring, leaving us women to turn our pale winter skin into a kissed-by-the-sun, island tan. I may or may not have kept one eye cracked for Jameson, but they never came to lay with us, so I hadn’t seen him all day. Thank God we broke earlier for a nap, otherwise I wouldn’t have been prepared for the rehearsal dinner. Not that it was much of one. There was nothing to rehearse. The resort provided everything for us: cake, flowers, photography. We just had to show up looking our best and ready to say “I do.”

  All night, we all sat around laughing, sharing stories about the happy couple. My cheeks cramped from laughing so much.

  Taking in the laid-back, happy faces, I couldn’t help but think that if I ever got married, this was what I wanted it to look like. A laugh bubbled from my lips at the thought before I downed the rest of my wine. Like I would ever get married.

  I was pulled out of my thoughts when Juliana, Jack’s sister, stood up and tapped her knife against her water glass. I didn’t know what it was about the McCade genes, but day-um, they produced some tall, blue-eyed, sharp cheek-boned children. The whole lot could be models. I made a mental note to ask her if she would ever consider modeling my clothes.

  “Hey, everyone,” her sweet, soft voice called for attention. “So I just wanted to say a few things about my brother and his beautiful bride-to-be, Luella.” She cleared her throat and gripped her glass tightly, letting her emotions show. “Jack is the best brother a girl could ask for. I mean he was annoying and overbearing,” she laughed. “But he always made me feel like I had someone to protect me. And seeing him smile and laugh makes me so happy.” She shifted her eyes to Lu. “I couldn’t have asked for a better woman for my brother. A fellow scientist,” she added jokingly. “You both complement each other perfectly, and I wish you the longest and happiest life together.” Lifting her glass high, she finished off, “To Jack and Luella.” We all reciprocated and took a drink.

  Everyone fell back into conversation, and I looked around the table, eyeing Jameson, innocently in conversation with Shane, who interestingly, had his eyes glued to Juliana. But my focus was more on Jameson as an idea struck, pulling a smirk to my lips. We had been cordial to one another since we got here, but we hadn’t quite returned to our bantering ways, but being relaxed and slightly buzzed encouraged me to push him.

  “Jameson,” I called out. He paused mid-conversation to look at me, one eyebrow raised in question. I gave it a moment as a silence to fall around the table. Lifting my lips up in a mischievous smile, hinting at what was to come, I asked, “Why don’t you make a speech? I mean Juliana did and all. You don’t want to be the only sibling left out.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, showing his frustration at being cornered. “I don’t think anyone wants to hear me speak, Evelyn,” he hedged.

  “I would love to hear a speech from my big brother,” Lu chimed in, winking my way. I winked back reveling in our bond to torture Jameson.

  His shoulders heaved with a put-upon sigh and his large frame rose from the table. Raising his glass, he spoke quickly and gruffly. “To my sister and Jack, may you have a great life and a happy marriage.” He brought the glass to his lips, but quietly spoke to Lu before taking a drink. “Love you, Lu.”

  It was forced and short, but I still saw tears prick Lu’s eyes. She loved Jameson, and he was a rock, lacking many emotions besides irritation. So the quick words spoken to her meant more than any long speech we could have forced him into.

  He sat back down and turned to me with a look that said, “happy now?”

  I put on my most innocent, happy smile in return, making him shake his head and take another drink to hide the smile he couldn’t keep off his face.

  That was the thing about our relationship, it always righted itself. Lu called it equilibrium and tried to relate it back to science like she always did. But no matter what, it always returned to a balance. However, after the incident last month, things had gotten so serious and it had become harder and harder to fall back into the equilibrium.

  Why?

  I couldn’t put my finger on the why. Maybe because we were just growing up. Maybe because Jameson had changed and was looking for that “something serious” in his life. Maybe it clashed with my refusal to change.

  Soon the plates were cleared and we left our perch on the top balcony of the restaurant, moving to the patio where a band was set up. Flickering tiki torches and stringed lights lit up the paved area above the beach. I sat off to the side watching the couples move to the clang of the steel drums. The fast music from earlier had faded to a slow, rhythmic beat that urged couples to hold each other close and cherish the moment.

  “The wedding party should have to dance with each other,” Luella announced, grabbing Jack’s hand, tugging him out to the center. “Shane with Evelyn, since they’re the maid of honor and best man. And Jameson and Juliana since you have to walk together down the aisle tomorrow.”

  “Lu, you know I don’t dance,” Jameson protested.

  “You do for my wedding,” she demanded. “Now get on the floor.” She turned and became lost in the far side of the crowd, not allowing Jameson to argue.

  I didn’t mind one bit. Shane was a handsome man. He was shorter than Jameson and had a buzzed head. But he was muscular and looked like he knew how to handle a woman.

  He grabbed my hand and led me to the floor, close to Jameson and Juliana. After giving me a small twirl under his arm, he pulled me close. The way his hands splayed across my back didn’t give me the excitement I was hoping for. They did make me think of the way Jameson’s hands felt on me. Like that time he had me against a wall in the storage closet.

  Peeking over Shane’s shoulder, my eyes connected with Jameson staring back at me and I wondered if he saw the memories behind my eyes. I hoped he could. I hoped he was thinking about them too. Just to mess with him, I winked before pushing myself more firmly against Shane.

  Shane’s chuckle let me know what he thought of my antics and drew my eyes up to his. His eyes flicked to my cleavage, and I was sure he had a perfect visual of the V of my black floral wrap dress, but then they looked up in question to me. “When are you and Jameson going to get together?”

  He threw me off with the question and a choked laugh bubbled from my mouth. “Ummm, never. We’re just friends.”

  He rolled his eyes, scanning the surrounding dancers in the crowd. That was Shane, the detective. Always taking in more than anyone else. “Yeah, right.” Looking back, he penetrated me with a stare that let me know he was calling bullshit. “We all see the way he looks at you. I guess everyone is used to it so no one calls you guys on it.”

  I didn’t like what he was insinuating. Shan
e was new to the group and didn’t understand the dynamic between Jameson and me. I wasn’t sure he understood me, so I decided to set him straight. “Well, when he’s ready for a blow job,” I waggled my brows, “or a good time, I’m here.”

  He didn’t respond with interest, like I’d expected. Instead he just stared at me, his ice blue eyes making me feel uncomfortable. I felt like he was digging for a deeper truth, which made me want to pull up my walls. Just because he was new to the group, didn’t mean he wasn’t an observant son of a bitch that sat back and took it in. I could only imagine the things heard from Lu and me when we were drunk and I forgot the hulking man sitting off to the side. I could feel him coming up with his own assumptions using his detective skills and I was gearing up to shut them down.

  “What?” I asked a little defensively.

  “Yeah right,” he stated nonchalantly, like he didn’t believe me and wasn’t even doubting how accurate he was in his judgment. “You may think you’re unaffected, but I see the way you look at him too when no one is watching.”

  “And how do I look at him?” I asked dryly.

  “Like you’re hungry.” That I could work with. I was hungry for Jameson. No matter how friendly we were, I wouldn’t have been opposed to having a chance to get busy with him. Just as I parted my lips to let Shane know how hungry I was for Jameson, he interrupted and continued. “And not for his cock,” he winked, knowing what I was going to say. “You’re hungry for his hand in yours. For the way he challenges you and calls you on your shit. You’re hungry for him to be by your side and prove you wrong about loving a man.” His words landed like a blow. I did not need a man by my side. Especially not Jameson. We were friends that bickered like siblings.

  But I didn’t know what to say back. My chest felt as tight as my pursed lips, and I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. What the hell was wrong with me? He ignored the disgruntled look on my face and continued. “That’s a big battle of wills you’re playing right now. How long you can hold off your feelings for him? How long you can pretend you don’t love him? Not these petty games you like to pretend to play.”

  He didn’t seem to care about the anger scrunching my face. He smiled at it, like he was right and enjoying the words he flung at me, enjoying the confusion he stirred in me. He was wrong.

  He was wrong, and I was going to set him straight. I opened my mouth to let him know what I thought of his caca-bullshit analysis when a hand landed on my shoulder. My head jerked to see who was interrupting me and came to rest on a set of deep blue eyes that made the emotions swirling through me rage even harder.

  “Mind if we switch?” Jameson asked.

  Shane smirked at me. “Sure,” he agreed, walking away to go wrap Juliana in his arms, staring at her much differently than he had stared at me.

  I turned nervously toward Jameson. We’d had some superficial interactions over the previous twenty-four hours, some light banter. But I was about to be in his arms, close to him. We would be locked together for at least a song or two, and it made my nerves zip across my skin. Watching his hands lift toward me, it felt like the moment we fully mended the break, and the pressure squeezed across my chest to make everything fit again.

  Feeling one of Jameson’s hands settle on my back while his other moved to wrap around my fingers made me hotter than anything Shane could have made me feel. Why did Jameson feel so different? It had to have been Shane’s words messing with my head. Of course I loved Jameson, he was like my brother. A brother I’d made out with, who’d had his hands in my panties. Who I may have gotten myself off to a few times.

  Okay, maybe not a brother, but I wasn’t in love with him like Shane had implied. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He was new to our group and didn’t understand our dynamic. I could imagine what it looked like to others. He was wrong, and I tried to let it go and relax my body. But I still couldn’t stop holding myself stiffly, too afraid to relax in Jameson’s arms. I couldn’t get my mind off of how his hand burned through my dress and into my skin.

  “Looked like an intense conversation you guys were having,” Jameson said, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

  “Just a chit-chat.” My voice came out strained, like I was trying to play it off as nothing when in reality it was fucking with my head. I hoped he didn’t notice and would let it go. My eyes scanned the crowd looking for a distraction. They landed on the way Shane had his head leaned down toward Juliana and she was looking up at him smiling, a blush staining her cheeks that I could see from a distance. “Now that looks intense,” I said with a more normal voice, nodding my head in their direction.

  Jameson looked over with a frown of disapproval. “Isn’t he like ten or fifteen years older than her? It’s kind of inappropriate.”

  “I guess if that’s what you’re into. Different strokes for different folks.”

  The muscles finally loosened from the strain I was holding them in when he turned to me, laughing. It was one of those rare moments when I made him laugh. Victory felt good.

  He pulled me a little bit closer and held me a little bit tighter, like he was worried I would run, as his eyes darkened and he stopped smiling. He scanned my face and the tension began creeping back into my shoulders, wondering what he could be thinking when he looked at me so seriously.

  His lips parted, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out the right words. When he finally did speak, his words shocked me.

  “Look, I’m sorry for what I said.” Jameson never apologized, because he never thought he was wrong. At least with me. “I hate that you stopped coming to family lunches.”

  I hated that I had stopped going too. Lu and Jameson were the only family I had in Cincinnati and I’d felt lost the previous month without them. Relief swallowed me up at the thought that things could return to normal. I’d been such a mess the month before.

  But after Shane’s words and then Jameson’s apology, the emotions were too much. I didn’t want to be so serious anymore. I didn’t want the tension weighing on us all the time. I wanted things back to the way they were. So, I did what I did best and kept it light, poking fun at him.

  “You should be. It was mean.” He gave me a dry look, letting me know what he thought of my response. I didn’t want to make a bigger deal of it than it already was. But if he could apologize, then so could I. “But I was being a drunk, inappropriate bitch. I’m sorry, too.”

  His eyebrows rose in shock. “The great Evelyn apologizing,” he gasped in wonder.

  “I’m just taking after you, the man who is never wrong.” I rolled my eyes.

  He smiled at me. “Well, I’m not.”

  “Ha. Ha. Let’s just enjoy our time in Jamaica now that we can be around each other without death stares.”

  He pulled me in tighter to his body, pressing my chest into his, and fully wrapped his arm around me. I wondered if he could feel how hard my heart was beating through my chest against his. He rarely held me this close. Usually any contact was in self-defense or with discomfort.

  When his head leaned down to rest on mine, my eyes closed, cherishing the way he felt against me. He had never held me this way, so soft and tender. Had any man? I tried not to think about the way my skin heated when his fingers stroked my back. I tried not to think about what Shane had said because he was wrong.

  But when Jameson shifted his lips close to my ear and muttered, “Evie, I’m not sure I could look at you with anything but awe,” it became hard to ignore the way my heart swelled. I forced myself to pretend I didn’t hear, even though we both knew I did.

  We’d just gotten over one hump to return to normal. I didn’t want to disturb it by acknowledging his admission of how he saw me. The day had been long and filled with too much alcohol, too much sun, and too much love to think straight. I could’ve been completely wrong about what he meant. Maybe he was in awe of how annoying I was. Maybe I hadn’t heard him correctly after all.

  But I did. Even though I didn’t want t
o.

  Eight

  “There,” I stepped back after placing the last stitch in Lu’s dress. She stood before the full-length closet mirrors in her room. The sun shining in from the open doors behind her gave her an ethereal look and made her glow with a radiance I’d never seen. She looked flawless, and I couldn’t have been happier for my friend.

  She ran her hands along the vintage white lace covering her thighs. “Evelyn…” she whispered, turning to me with tears pooling her eyes. “This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn. How am I going to thank you for this? I just … It’s perfect.”

  My heart swelled with pride at her words. Seeing her in the dress on her wedding day made me love it more than anything else I had created. She’d given me few guidelines: vintage, unique, beachy, but still very bridal, and let me run with it. She had a thin frame with a gorgeous curve in her hips and I created a form-fitting skirt that was covered in the vintage lace with a small train flowing down the length of her legs. The top was separate, but made of the same material. It was cropped, hanging loosely around her chest, with thin spaghetti straps holding it on her shoulders. The scalloped edge of the top whispered along her stomach and exposed the abs she worked so hard for.

  She was the most beautiful bride I’d ever had the pleasure of dressing. “A thank you is fine, and you’re welcome,” I replied curtly, dabbing under my own eyes. “Now stop crying before you ruin your makeup. My skills with the eyeliner were on point this morning and I’m just not sure I can create it again.”

  We both laughed as she turned to me. “Thank you, Evie. I couldn’t imagine having anyone else here by my side.”

  We could have gone on back and forth and turned this into one big gush-fest about how much we loved each other, so I cut it short and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight.

  “God, what saps,” I muttered, dabbing at my eyes some more. I hated crying. “Let’s talk about anything else. We have,” my eyes flicked to the clock on the nightstand, “thirty more minutes before we have to be ready for the golf cart to pick us up.”