Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (154 page)

Jude cleared his throat and wiggled in his seat.

“What?” I asked, taking another bite.

“You really shouldn’t make noises like that in public,” he chuckled.

I glanced around and out of the handful of people in the shop they all stared. Fantastic.

My cheeks heated with color and I looked down at my ice cream. “Sorry. It tasted good.”

“Don’t apologize.” He grinned and I knew something naughty was about to come out of his lips. “I quite enjoyed that…although, I’d enjoy it even more if we were in my bed. And naked. And—”

“Shut up!” I groaned, shaking my head so that my long blonde hair shielded my face. I wasn’t one to easily embarrass, but Jude? Yeah, he embarrassed me all the time. It was like some special talent he had. 

Suddenly, his warm fingers were on my chin, guiding my head up. “Don’t get shy on me now, Tate,” he rubbed his large thumb in soothing circles over the apple of my cheek. “Where’s that feisty girl who kicks me and punches me when I do stupid shit?”

“Kissing me wasn’t stupid.” My lips thinned into a hard line as I realized the words that had tumbled from my mouth.

He let his hand drop and sat back, taking a lick of the dripping chocolate ice cream. “I knew you liked it, and you liked it even more when I kissed you in my truck.”

I didn’t have a rebuttal, because he was right. I had enjoyed it, enough so that I wouldn’t mind it happening again. But I kept that tidbit of information a secret. The longer Jude stayed oblivious to my growing feelings, the better. Actually, it wasn’t even that. The longer I could pretend my feelings didn’t exist, the better. 

“For the record,” he continued, licking ice cream off his upper lip, “I like kissing you too. A lot.” 

I was convinced that Jude liked to say things to make me uncomfortable. It was like he got some kind of pleasure from watching me squirm.

As if he sensed that he’d made me uncomfortable, Jude cracked a smile. “Hey, look at us enjoying ice cream and no one’s gotten covered in it yet.”

I didn’t want to, but I laughed. And laughed some more until my sides hurt. I couldn’t remember when I’d laughed that hard. Probably before Graham died. I couldn’t believe it was the guy I blamed for my brother’s death that made me so undeniably…happy. It wasn’t fair, but life rarely is.

ON SUNDAY MORNING I awoke to someone banging pots and pans in the kitchen. I jolted out of bed, stumbling down the steps as I wiped sleep from my eyes. Who the hell was in the kitchen? My mom never got out of bed before twelve in the afternoon, unless I made her, and when I’d went to bed at one in the morning my dad still hadn’t come home. 

But if there was an intruder in the house, why the hell were they going for the pots and pans? I was pretty sure they weren’t worth much.

I skidded to a halt in front of the archway leading to the kitchen. My socks spun me around on the slick floor and I grabbed the doorframe for support so I didn’t fall on my butt. No one wanted a bruise on their ass. 

“Dad?” I gasped at the form huddled over the stove making breakfast.

I rubbed my eyes, then blinked them rapidly when the image in front of me didn’t change.

Holy shitake mushrooms. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My dad hadn’t cooked any sort of meal in this kitchen since before Graham died. Man, there was so much in my life that existed in Before Graham Died and After Graham Died. It was sort of pathetic.

“Dad?” I took a hesitant step into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast, Tatie. You want chocolate chip pancakes, right?”

Tears welled in my eyes at the sound of my nickname. I hadn’t heard it in so long, and my God it felt so good to hear, but strange at the same time. I couldn’t figure out what he thought was going to happen by making breakfast. He’d stopped being my dad a long time ago and I wasn’t sure the damage could be undone. 

“Um, sure,” I took a seat at one of the barstools and placed my hands flat on the cool granite countertop. “Dad? I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what do you expect to accomplish with this?”

He set the mixing bowl aside and put his hands on his hips. He let out a loud sigh and then ruffled his hair. It was getting a bit too long, like he’d forgotten to get it cut in a while.

“I’m just making breakfast.”

I wasn’t trying to start an argument with him, but I couldn’t sit back and not say anything about this. “Dad, you haven’t made breakfast in a long time. Hell, you haven’t even been sleeping at home. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me being curious.”

“God, Tatum!” He yelled, slamming his hand against the mixing bowl. It went flying through the air and batter splattered all over the kitchen. I was startled. Stunned. Unable to move. To even breathe. “Why do you always have to question everything?” His chest heaved up and down like he’d run a marathon.

There was so much I wanted to say, but I was silent. 

More than that, I was scared.

I pushed away from the counter, went up the steps, and closed my bedroom door. I leaned my head against its surface and breathed deeply out through my mouth.

I wanted to pretend that didn’t happen.

But I couldn’t, because when I went downstairs later the mess was still there and a chill lingered in the air.

I was starting to realize that the parents I ‘remembered’ might have been figments of my own imagination.

I SAT DOWN AT the table, holding the warm cup of coffee between my hands. Eyeing all the magazines covering the surface of the table, I asked Rowan, “Do you really need all of this to plan a wedding?”

“Ugh!” She groaned, pulling her long hair away from her face and securing it in a high bun. “I hate this! I’m about to tell Trent to forget all this wedding crap and just go to Vegas.”

I laughed, removing the plastic lid from my coffee and blowing the steaming surface. “Isn’t it the guy that’s supposed to hate all this big wedding crap, while the girl oohs and ahhs over everything?”

“I never realized how much thought and planning went into a wedding. This is hard. Trent’s mom and grandma have helped a lot, and his mom offered to higher a wedding planner. But I refused. I didn’t want to lose control.”

Looking at the mess on the table and her overall frazzled appearance, I said, “Maybe losing control wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“No,” she stated flatly. Rowan Sinclair—soon to be Rowan Wentworth—was the most stubborn person I knew…besides myself of course. “What do you think of this color for bridesmaids dresses?” She pointed to a pale blue color.

“It’s pretty.”

“You hate it,” she threw the magazine to the side.

“No,” I picked it back up and flipped to the page she’d shown me, “I said it was pretty. Since when did that mean I hated something?”

“It was your tone.”

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes Row could be the most impossible person to deal with. “I love the blue,” I replied. Batting my eyelashes, I leaned across the table towards her. “It’ll make my eyes pop and the men won’t be able to resist me.”

“Men? Or Jude?” She smiled wryly. 

“There’s nothing going on with us,” I replied, putting the lid back on my cup of coffee and taking a sip. It was the truth. Well, maybe a half-truth. There was something between us, but there were no labels to describe our relationship. “So,” I swallowed the hot liquid, “are you going with the blue?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, marking the page. “It’ll be pretty on you and Olivia.” Olivia was Rowan’s other bridesmaid and she happened to be Trent’s sister-in-law. I’d only met her a handful of times. She was sweet and really pretty. I could tell she and Trace, her husband, were crazy about each other. It made me a little envious. I wanted that kind of love…I just didn’t want the pain, suffering, and heartache that could come from it. Let’s face it, I was going to die alone surrounded by cats.

“I can’t wait to leave for spring break and have an actual, you know, break,” she propped her head up on her hand. “I still hate the thought of leaving the kids, but I need this.”

Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, I’d say she definitely needed this. With school winding down and the impending approach of graduation every senior on campus was stressed out.

I needed this break just as much.

This coming week couldn’t be over fast enough.

Taking one of the magazines I flipped through it until I found the sluttiest wedding gown imaginable. Rowan was too stressed and I wanted to make her laugh. “There you go,” I slid it across to her, tapping my finger on the glossy page, “it’s perfect.”

She snorted when she saw what I’d picked. “While I’m sure Trent would love it, I’m not sure I want every guest to practically see my goods.”

“In all seriousness,” I said, “what do you want for a wedding dress?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’m not sure. I know that’s a sucky answer but it’s the honest one. I was thinking maybe something more old fashioned.”

Looking at Rowan, with her long light brown hair pulled back, her fine features and sculpted cheekbones I was pretty sure she could wear anything she wanted and look gorgeous in it. “If that’s what you want, you should go for it.”

“I really need to try on dresses,” she bit her lip. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Of course,” I replied immediately. “When?”

“Now.”

“Now?” I sat up straighter, taking a large gulp of coffee. “Why now?”

“There’s a shop on the next block. I might not try on anything, but I’d like to look. Get an idea, you know?” She gave me an uncertain look and bit her lip nervously. 

I stood and slung my purse on my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” She appeared hesitant, like she thought she’d made me mad. Rowan had nothing to do with my current pissed off state. That was all thanks to the man I occasionally called dad when he bothered to come home. 

“Absolutely,” I told her, walking away to toss my now empty coffee cup in the trash.

As if she was afraid I’d change my mind she hurried after me. 

It was a warmer day and I reveled in the feel of the sun on my skin. I’d always loved the outdoors and being stuck inside all winter had really taken a toll on me.

We stepped into the shop and it looked like tulle had exploded in there. I batted my way through, hoping I didn’t get scolded for touching the dresses. 

A woman came out of the backroom, smiling warmly. “Hello, ladies, what can I help you with today?” She asked, clasping her hands together in front of her black pencil skirt. Her dark hair was perfectly coifed back. I’d never be able to get my hair slicked back that tight unless I used superglue. I tended to let my hair do its own thing.

“She’s looking for a wedding dress,” I told the saleslady when Rowan didn’t speak up. I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there, her face as white as the dresses. I guessed it was hitting her that this was real. 

The lady began asking Rowan a thousand and one questions that made my head hurt. Another saleslady came to help me with bridesmaids dresses. She pulled a few for Rowan to look over that could be ordered in the color she’d decided on.

I sat in an uncomfortable white chair, waiting for Rowan to come out of the dressing room. The space was decorated in white and pale pink. The furniture was a bit too frilly for my taste. In fact, I found the whole space to be very prissy. I was tempted to throw some gum wrappers I had wadded up in my purse on the ground, just to mess it up a bit. 

When Rowan stepped out of the dressing room and onto the platform, my mouth hung open. She twirled around, letting me see the dress from all angles. It was a mermaid style lace gown with a sweetheart neckline, capped sleeves, and an opening in the back. It was absolutely stunning on her. 

“Rowan, I think this is your dress,” I breathed in awe, itching to reach out and touch the fabric. “It’s gorgeous.”

“You think so? I mean, it’s the first one I tried on, so…”

“No, don’t second guess it. Sometimes you get things right on the first try, and this…this is your dress. It’s like it was made for you.” I almost felt jealous as she smiled at her reflection. My best friend was marrying her dream guy, having her dream wedding, and going to live happily ever after. I didn’t see a future for myself past graduation and that was really scary.

“You’re right,” Rowan agreed. “This is my dress.”

The saleslady helped her off the platform and into the other room. The lady that had helped me find the bridesmaid dresses ushered me into a room and helped me changed into one of the dresses. 

I’d already told her it was an outdoor wedding, so all of the dresses she’d pulled were on the more casual side.

The first one she put me in was really shiny and itchy. I prayed Rowan hated it. If I had to wear this thing through her whole wedding I’d end up having a special burning of the hideous dress ceremony afterwards. 

I was already standing on the platform when Rowan came out of the dressing room from changing back into her clothes. Her face screwed up with complete and utter distaste. “That’s awful.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad we agree.”

After two more, I was about to give up. But then the saleslady put me in a floor length flowy dress. It was strapless but had a sweetheart neckline to match the one on Row’s. The one I wore was in a peachy color. It draped beautifully on my body and I wasn’t worried about my boobs popping out, so that was a plus.