All three of his buddies thought that was hilarious. If the pressure washer wouldn’t have taken off a layer of skin, those fuckers would be drenched by now.
“So, what’s the plan? You taking her on a date? Going to tell her in a public place where she can’t make a scene over the fact you’ve hidden your actual livelihood from her for a month?” John asked.
John’s idea wasn’t horrible, but… “No. I thought when we got done here, I’d pick up some food, then swing by the nursery and surprise her. Take her to this spot I know by the beach where we can be alone to talk.” And if he was lucky, other things.
John cut off the motor, drowning the barn in sudden silence. “Wait a minute? You’re going to surprise her? The man who hates surprises?”
“I’m not surprising her with a wedding,” Evan pointed out. “Just dinner.”
“And that you’ve been lying to her,” C-Note said.
“And that,” Rooster agreed.
“I haven’t—”
“A lie by omission is still a lie,” John sang.
Evan shoved the water nozzle in the holder on the side of the machine. “Thanks for the support, assholes.”
“You don’t need our support,” C-Note barked, as serious as Evan had ever seen him outside of work. C-Note’s expression was intense, resolute. This was Bravo One. “You’ve got this. You’re a good man, Evan. You might’ve withheld the truth, but your intentions were honest all the same. Presley will understand the need to keep things secret in the beginning, and if she doesn’t, then she’s not the woman for you.”
Evan fought the urge to salute the guy with a hearty, Sir. Yes, Sir.
Presley was the woman for him. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he felt it deep in his gut. She was the one. He opened his mouth to admit it out loud when his dad’s voice stopped him.
“Hey, does anyone need some chairs?”
Evan turned as his dad and brother walked through the open bay doors.
“You’ve done so much to help me, I thought we’d return the favor by loading up the truck and bringing them out to you,” Josh informed him.
“I appreciate that. You both know John, but come meet a couple of the guys I work with.”
As Evan introduced his father and brother to Rooster and C-Note—Jacob and Benjamin for the sake of introductions—a piece of his heart that had been empty for so long filled to the rim…just as several phone alarm tones went off.
Evan glanced down at his phone as C-Note and Rooster did the same.
C-Note stepped forward and offered his hand to Evan’s dad. “Sir, it’s good to meet you. You, too, Josh.” He nodded at John. “John. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short. We’re needed at work.” Under his breath he said, “Rooster. Cowboy. Let’s go.”
“Son?”
“Sorry, Dad. We gotta head out.”
His dad jerked him into a hug. Evan was so shocked, he didn’t even have time to hug the man back before his dad let him go.
“Be safe.”
“Always.” Evan fist-bumped his brother and turned to John. “Can you handle getting things set up?”
John grabbed his arm.
What the hell? “I gotta go, John.”
“What do you want me to tell Presley if you don’t make it back before the wedding,” John asked quietly, following Evan out to his truck.
Evan’s heart sank. It was on the tip of his tongue to reassure John he would be back, but it was a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.
Damn it. This is what he’d been afraid of.
He’d messed up by not telling Presley sooner, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He certainly wasn’t going to try to explain himself to her over the phone while he was rushing through traffic.
“If I’m not back, tell her I had to go out of town. That it couldn’t be avoided.”
Presley would never buy that bullshit, but what choice did he have?
Jesus fuck. Couldn’t hell have waited another goddamn day to break loose?
Evan sat with the rest of his team, the tension knife-cutting thick as C-Note gave them the rundown:
US Embassy hit.
Hostage situation.
High profile target.
Wheels up in ten.
As Evan shouldered his gear, C-Note clapped him on the back.
“Quick in and out. Three days, tops. Don’t worry, Cowboy. You’ll make it.”
13
The days leading up to the wedding were busier than usual. Presley almost didn’t think about the fact that she hadn’t heard from Evan all week. Almost.
During the day, she was able to ignore his lack of response to her text messages, but at night, after she slipped into the shirt Evan had left behind and crawled into bed, she struggled not to let old insecurities surface.
Where was he? What was he doing? Had he disappeared on her…again? Would she spend the next few months watching her phone or her front door, waiting for him as she had once before?
God, if only he would respond. A simple hey would go a long way to silencing her fears, however silly they might be. And her heart said yes, she was absolutely being childish and silly.
Then again, hers was the same heart that had believed she’d cared about Brad, and that had turned out to be a big, fat lie.
Frustrated, Presley slammed the door of her car. She was being ridiculous. Everything was fine. She and Evan were fine.
It was the silence she wasn’t sure what to do with.
She opened the last message she’d received from him and read it for the hundredth time.
Evan: I’ll miss you this week.
He’d sent that on Monday. They’d talked about being busy the week of the wedding, so maybe that message was his way of letting her know not to worry when she didn’t hear from him. Easier said than done, but she was trying.
“Presley? Where do you want this?”
Presley turned to find one of the guys from her nursery holding a large floral arrangement. She sighed. Evan would be there soon. She would feel better once she laid eyes on him. For now, she had a wedding that needed her attention.
“I’ll show you. Come on.”
Presley felt a thrill as she stepped into the barn. The space had been transformed into a magical backdrop. A temporary floor had been put down. Lights were strung, making the high ceiling glisten like a thousand stars. Overhead, white draping crisscrossed and hung from the beams. The flower arrangements she’d made with plum roses and Picasso calla lilies filled the air with a succulent, sweet fragrance.
Instead of rows of chairs, she and John had decided last minute to bring in round tables. The tables and chairs were set sporadically throughout the barn, leaving space down the center to serve as the aisle for the bride. A more casual setting, the guests could sit comfortably at tables with friends and loved ones during the ceremony. Once the ceremony was over, a rectangle-shaped table would be placed in the spot where John and Chloe took their vows. The head table would give the bride and groom a place sit and celebrate while the sun set behind them.
The cake and food tables were set along the far side, as well as a table that would serve as a bar.
Everything was ready.
The guests were arriving. As love and excitement buzzed around her, Presley couldn’t help but wonder…
Where is Evan?
Worry tugged at Presley’s throat, and she shot off yet another text message, this one not as polite as the first five.
Presley: You’re going to miss your best friend’s wedding. Why aren’t you here? Where the hell are you, Evan?
Because he certainly wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
As the music started, John made eye contact with her. His smile was half-hearted and a little sad before he put his fist to his mouth and coughed lightly, as if clearing his throat. John straightened his coat, tossed a glance behind him to the man standing where Evan should be. When John turned to face the back of the barn, a brilliant smile lit his face.
Evan.
Presley’s heart skipped a beat as she whirled around…and saw Chloe. And then she felt like a complete idiot for expecting anyone else. Of course it was Chloe, and oh, she made an exquisite bride. The white dress was sleek and elegant, hugging Chloe’s curves and fanning out into a short satin train behind her. The teardrop bouquet of Picasso calla lilies and purple orchids was stunning, if she did say so herself.
Presley’s heart ached at the happiness shining on Chloe’s face. The wink and a mouthed thank you from Chloe as she walked by warmed Presley’s heart.
They’d pulled it off. Everything was perfect.
Except it wasn’t, because the best man was missing. The only thing keeping Presley sane was the fact that neither John nor Chloe seemed overly concerned by his absence.
It wasn’t until John and Chloe finished cutting the cake that Presley had a moment alone with them. The couple beckoned her to a quiet spot near the head table.
“I can’t believe you did all this.” Chloe pulled Presley into a hug. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” she admitted, her gaze sliding to John.
The man looked uncomfortable for the first time that evening. He tugged at his collar. “You must be wondering why Evan isn’t here.” Presley’s heart pounded in her chest as the couple shared a look she didn’t understand.
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“He had to go out of town.”
I’ll miss you this week.
For a moment, the world froze. Presley rolled John’s words around in her head, over and over, trying to make sense of them.
“He had to go out of town,” she repeated slowly. “And miss his best friend’s wedding? What could be so important to make him do that?”
John opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but in the end, he just shrugged.
Chloe darted a glance at John before she said, “Evan has his reasons that aren’t ours to share.” Chloe took her hand. “But let’s not worry about that now. We’re celebrating. We’re married!” Chloe screeched and hugged Presley again. “Come. Have some cake with us.”
The cake that she and Evan had practically gone into a diabetic coma to find. Something about what Chloe had said didn’t sit right, but Presley wouldn’t ruin their wedding day by focusing on the missing best man.
Presley smiled, laughed, and ate cake that felt heavier in her belly than it should. She put on a good show, but once the happy couple left her to mingle and dance, Presley was left to stew.
Evan had his reasons? What reason could he possibly have to ditch his friend on his wedding day? She ran through options in her head, working herself up a solid bit of anger when nothing she could come up with seemed a good enough reason to justify hurting his best friend.
And John was hurt.
More than once, Presley caught him staring toward the opening of the barn, watching as the guests meandered in and out. There was a bit of hope in John’s expression. Hope that died a little with every recognition.
Chloe said Evan had his reasons for not being there, yet John held out hope his best friend would walk through the door. That hope was what shattered Presley’s heart into little pieces. She knew what it felt like to wait. To watch the end of her driveway, holding her breath, praying that any moment he would be there. She’d been disappointed. It appeared John would be, too.
How could Evan do that to someone he cared about?
Presley managed to get through the rest of the night. She smiled and waved as the bride and groom drove off. She shook hands and thanked people for coming, like she was a member of the family, instead of just the casual friend who’d helped with the planning and supplied the flowers.
All the while…fuming.
After everyone left, Presley closed herself inside the barn. She spent the next hour taking out her frustrations on the trash, shoving poor unsuspecting plates and cups into bags to be hauled off the next day. Every passing minute was like adding kindling to a forest fire. By the time she hit the lights and exited the back door, she was shaking.
She climbed into her car before she checked her phone. Almost one in the morning. No messages from Evan. She tossed her phone into the passenger’s seat and reached to start her car when a loud, rumbling noise came from the distance, followed by headlights.
A truck slowed as it approached the barn. The night was pitch dark, and there were no lights around. Anyone driving by wouldn’t be able to see her car out back.
Presley held her breath, suddenly aware of how isolated the barn was from the main area of the property.
She lost sight of the truck as it passed in front of the barn, but she heard the sound of gravel spinning, as if the driver had hit the gas at the last minute and peeled away. She watched the red taillights get smaller, and then brighten a second before turning into what she suspected was Evan’s driveway.
Anger surged through her blood as she started the car. She spun some of her own gravel as she hit the gas. Evan’s truck was indeed in his driveway when she pulled in. She barely had the car turned off before she was out the door and stomping up his porch.
The door swung open before she got there, and Presley was momentarily glued in place by naked man chest. Good grief. Evan’s chest was a work of art. Solid pecs topped with perfect flat nipples. Ropes of solid muscle lined his ribcage and abs, and he had a tantalizing line of dark hair running from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his black cargo pants.
Her gaze travelled back up that tanned expanse of lick-able sinew when she noticed a bandage wrapped around his biceps. Frowning, she glanced up and gasped. “Oh my god. What happened to your face?” There was a substantial bruise around one eye and a nasty looking cut over his eyebrow.
“Sunshine.” He said her name like a benediction, and her heart wept as he reached for her. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes. You look gorgeous.”
He got an arm around her before she smelled the dark and tangy scent of alcohol. The scent curled around her, diving into her nostrils, triggering a memory. Something snapped within her then, with an almost audible click. Something old and thinly threaded. A hurt and anger, twelve years in the making. Her head spun, and she was sixteen again.
She shot out a hand, slapping against his bare chest. “Don’t you ‘sunshine’ me.” She shoved him back. “You have got to be kidding me with this crap. Where have you been?”
Brows raised, Evan backed up a step. Slowly, watching her, he propped against the open doorway. He winced slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t John tell you? I was out of town.”
“Oh, he told me. Don’t you dare patronize me, Evan Lancaster. Where did you go? And…why?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Who did that to your face?”
“I can’t tell you that, either.”
Tears welled in Presley’s eyes. “I can’t believe this. I thought…this is just like…”
Evan’s body stiffened, and anger flared in his eyes. “Just like what?”
His gruff tone made her press her lips together.
“Oh, no. You started this. Out with it. Just like what, Presley?”
“John is your best friend. You missed his wedding, Evan. Do you even know what that means? God. You want to know what this is like? Fine. This is just like the night of my junior prom. Only, this time, it’s worse.” Presley’s heart felt as if it were breaking in two. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you? You’re still the guy who doesn’t show up. You’re still the guy who left me sitting on my porch steps for hours, only to show up later, drunk and with bruises on your face.”
“I wasn’t drunk that night. I’m not drunk now.” His voice was deadly quiet, like the calm before the storm.
“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Evan. I can smell the alcohol. I smelled it then, and I can smell it now.”
“I had one shot,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then and tonight. The difference bein
g, tonight was about tradition, not because I was trying to cover the pain from broken ribs.”
He wasn’t making any sense. Broken ribs?
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Forget the past for a minute and think about the last four weeks. Do you really believe I would’ve missed John’s wedding if I had a choice?”
No! No! No!
Her heart screamed the litany over and over while her adult self waged a war with her childish inner teenager. She took too long to catch up.
Evan cursed, his voice ripe with disappointment. “I’m not a fucking cowboy, Presley. I’m a Navy SEAL. That’s why I can’t tell you where I was or what happened to my face. That’s the reason I missed my best friend’s wedding. I was away, and I didn’t get back until now. Six fucking hours too late.”
Slowly, too slowly, the pieces began to click into place. His commanding presence, the way he’d saluted her sister, the text message he’d sent. Presley was still trying to process, still trying to meld what she thought she knew about him with this new version of him when Evan spoke again.
“You want to know what I remember about that night you’ve apparently been holding against me? I remember my dad and I got into a fight. I told him I was joining the Navy, and he lost his shit. Said I was shirking my responsibilities and was deserting my family. I left and went to the round barn to cool off. My dad followed a while later and found me in the loft, smoking a cigarette and sipping from a flask of whiskey. I don’t remember much about the rest of it. It’s a blur of punches and angry words. Somehow, I ended up on the ground below, watching as flames engulfed the loft. By the time we got the fire out, all I could think about was getting to you. Holding you. Taking comfort—in you.”
Now, Presley felt like she was drunk. Like everything she thought she’d known was the ground, and it had fallen away, leaving her floating through the air without a tether. Tears fell onto Presley’s cheeks, but she didn’t try to wipe them away.
“And I didn’t listen,” she whispered. “I turned you away.”
Evan huffed a cruel laugh. “It seems you’re right about one thing, sunshine.” Presley cringed at the way he sneered the nickname he’d given her. “Some things never change. You still jump to the worse possible conclusions, refusing to give me the benefit of the doubt. You judge me when you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He regarded her with cold eyes. “We’re done here. Go home, Presley.”
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