“You really as calm as you seem?” I asked Griffin as we walked along the shoveled path.
“Yeah, I really am.” Even he sounded a little surprised. “Proposing to her was a way bigger deal. I was a fucking wreck that day. This feels like a formality.”
“I get that,” I said, again recalling my own experience.
Griffin glanced at me—he knew what I was thinking. “How about you? You holding up okay?”
“Yeah. I’m not really thinking about the past today.” And I wasn’t—not the way he meant.
“Good.” He put an arm around me. “Because I happen to think the future could be pretty fucking awesome if you’d let it.”
He made it sound so simple, and maybe it was.
I knew what I wanted.
And I knew what I had to do to get it.
Fourteen
Cheyenne
It was time.
The guests were all seated. The barn was lit by candles and party lights. The music had started.
Griffin and Blair had wanted a small wedding to begin with, and the weather had also prevented a couple dozen people from being there, so the occasion seemed even more intimate. Half the barn was set up with round tables of ten for the reception, and the other half had rows of chairs on either side of a short aisle. At the head of the aisle, beneath a trellis hung with evergreen boughs and more white lights, my brother waited for his bride. Behind him stood his three best friends—Cole, Enzo, and Beckett, just like always.
From the back of the room, I watched Alexis and then Frannie make their way up the aisle, their long ruby-red dresses a dramatic splash of color amid so much white. When April signaled it was my turn, I turned and gave Mariah and Blair one last smile, tears in my eyes. “Here we go,” I whispered.
Mariah beamed. “Here we go.”
Blair smiled, radiantly beautiful, in a strapless gown fit for a princess. Her hair was pulled back from her face but loose around her shoulders, and she carried a bouquet of jewel tone roses, emerald greens, and eucalyptus. Beside her, eighty-something Charlie Frankel looked as dapper as I’d ever seen him, and as proud to have Blair on his arm as a father would be. He gave me a wink.
“Okay, Cheyenne,” whispered April. “Now.”
I walked slowly, clutching my bouquet of greens, breathing deeply, smiling widely, and trying desperately not to cry. Meeting my brother’s eyes didn’t help, because I saw that his were shining too. Then I looked at Cole—his eyes were dry, but I could see he was emotional too. He touched his heart for a moment. My throat grew tight and I felt a little dizzy. With tears blurring my vision, I walked a little faster, and took my place near Frannie.
Next came Mariah, smiling brightly, her joy and pride evident with every step. Her dress was a deep blue velvet and brought out the color of her sapphire eyes, which she’d inherited from her dad. But I could see her mom in her face too, and I wondered if Cole was struggling at all today, grappling with memories or ghosts.
As Mariah reached the front of the room, everyone rose, and a reverent murmur floated through the air as Blair made her way toward Griffin on the arm of her surrogate grandad. There may have been only forty or so guests, but every single one of them had to feel choked up as they watched Griffin behold his bride for the first time and wipe his eyes, and Charlie Frankel kiss Blair on the cheek before shaking Griffin’s hand. Once Charlie was seated, Blair and Griffin stood side by side, and the officiant stepped forward.
I held back sobs all the way through the ceremony, dabbing at my eyes several times during the vows, letting a few tears fall during a moment of silence for my father and all the other loved ones we wished were here, and finally weeping openly when Griffin kissed the bride and the officiant proudly pronounced them “Mr. and Mrs. Dempsey.”
The entire place erupted in applause and whistles and shouts, and as the speakers blasted “Jackson” by Johnny and June Carter Cash, Blair and Griffin began to dance back down the aisle.
Since it was unexpected, I was laughing when Cole took my arm, and we followed behind the jubilant new Mr. and Mrs. Dempsey.
“They did it,” I said, my heart pounding.
“They did it.”
With his eyes still on me, he stumbled. “Shit—sorry.” Recovering his footing, he held my arm a little tighter. “Guess I need to look where I’m going. But it’s hard to take my eyes off you.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling heat in my cheeks.
“Listen, maybe we can talk later. I know it’s kind of chaotic tonight, but there’s something I want to—”
“Chey!” Blair squealed, rushing over to hug me. “It’s done! We’re sisters!”
Cole and I were separated as I embraced Blair, then April herded us all into a room at the back of the barn, and there was a mad scramble to crowd the newlyweds and smother them with love and congratulations. Someone popped several bottles of champagne, and I sought out my brother, who wrapped his arms around me.
“Congratulations,” I whispered as he held me tight. “It was perfect. I only wish Dad could have been here.”
“I think he was,” Griffin said. “At least, Mom said he was.”
Laughing, I released him and stepped back. Someone handed us each a glass of champagne and I raised mine to his. “Cheers, big brother. You did good.”
He clinked his glass to mine. “Your turn next?”
“Maybe,” I said, swallowing some bubbly.
But first, there was the small matter of getting over my feelings for Cole Mitchell. I snuck a glance at him across the room, and saw that he was with Mariah. He took her hands and held them both out so he could admire her, then hugged her close. As she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest, her eyes closed.
Sadness lumped up in my throat, and I tried to wash it away with champagne. He’d said he wanted to talk later, but I wasn’t sure I could handle it. No doubt he was feeling bad about last night and just wanted to apologize again, make sure there were no hard feelings—that’s the kind of guy he was—but I was already an emotional grenade.
No reason to pull that pin tonight.
* * *
There were pictures and pictures and more pictures after that—indoors by the trellis and outdoors in the dusky winter light, staged and casual, portraits and group shots, wedding party and extended family. By the time we were done, my cheeks hurt from smiling, my feet hurt from standing, and it was dinnertime.
I took my seat next to Blair and saw the name Cole Mitchell at the place setting next to mine. I glanced at her. “Really?”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “The seating chart was made weeks ago. Want to switch spots with someone real quick?”
I shook my head—I would not make anything difficult for Blair today. “No. I’m okay.”
“So how are things? Have you spoken to him at all?”
I shrugged. “A little. It’s not as horrible as I thought it might be, but still kind of awkward.” I looked around at our table—Alexis and her husband, Beckett and Moretti, Frannie and Mack. “Where’s Mariah sitting?”
“With Mack and Frannie’s girls,” said Blair. “I figured she’d have more fun with them.”
“Good idea.”
“He’s coming.” Blair sat up taller and raised her voice. “Hey, Cole. Ready for the toast? I think you’re up next.”
“I hope so.” He pulled out the chair next to mine. “Is this okay?”
“Of course,” I said, my pulse picking up. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks. I just want to get this part done so I can have a drink.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because April is coming this way with a mic.”
“Fuck.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “Why didn’t I write shit down? My head’s a mess.”
“You’ll be fine,” I whispered, unable to resist patting his arm.
He stood and took the mic from April. “Good evening, everyone. Can I get your attention fo
r a minute?”
The guests quieted, and all faces turned toward him.
“My name is Cole Mitchell, and on behalf of Griffin and Blair, I want to thank you all for braving the blizzard to be here tonight. I know it means a lot to them.” He paused before going on. “As the best man, I’m honored to have the opportunity to say a few words. I’ve known Griffin almost all my life, and he’s like a brother to me. In all those years, I’ve seen him do a lot of good things. He’s a stellar first baseman. He served his country. He runs a successful business. He’s been the best friend a guy could ask for—loyal beyond measure. But I’ve never been prouder of him than I was today, watching him take this leap of faith. We all know marriage isn’t easy. It takes patience and understanding. It takes forgiveness and acceptance. It takes courage, sacrifice, and unconditional love. Finding someone willing to give you all that—well, it takes time. And luck.” He glanced at Griffin and Blair. “And sometimes, a blown tire.”
The guests laughed, and Cole’s face relaxed into a smile. “I couldn’t be happier for Griffin and Blair, and I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect person for my friend. It’s rare when someone is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside”—he glanced down at me before looking over at the bride—“but anyone who knows Blair will tell you she’s living proof it can happen.”
I smiled at Blair too.
“And even though Griffin was his usual stubborn self at first, even he realized that . . .” Cole paused for a second. “That when you have something precious in your hands, you need to hold on tight.”
Chills swept across my back. I knew I’d heard the words somewhere, but at first I couldn’t remember when. Then it came to me—my mother had said them to us, the night we shattered the wedding plate.
Cole lifted his champagne. “So let’s raise a glass to Griffin and Blair, in celebration of their commitment to each other, this incredible evening, and holding on tight. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” The word echoed throughout the crowd, followed by the clinking of glasses all over the room. I swallowed some champagne, smiling through tears as the bubbles tickled my throat.
April came and took the mic from Cole, who sat down and wiped his forehead. “God, I’m glad that’s over.”
“You were great!” Moretti said. “Fucking fantastic.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t have that written down,” Mack commented. “I’d have forgotten everything.”
“I forgot a lot of it,” Cole admitted, stealing another glance at me. “And I started to panic. But something came to me at the end.”
“It was perfect,” I said softly, the lump refusing to leave my throat.
“Thanks.” He spoke quietly then, only to me. “Think your mom will mind I quoted her?”
I had to laugh as I shook my head. “She might never let you forget it, but she’ll be happy someone was listening.”
“Cole Mitchell, you made me cry!” Blair exclaimed, getting out of her chair to come hug him. “How dare you!”
Griffin came over to shake his hand and give him a back-thumping embrace too, and by the time everyone was settled again, servers were placing dinner on the table. Cole reached for his napkin and spread it on his lap.
That’s when I realized he wasn’t wearing his ring.
* * *
I tried not to make too much of it, but it was difficult not to keep stealing glances at his hands throughout the meal. My appetite was almost nonexistent, even though the food was delicious. The wine was good too, but I was careful not to drink too much. I did not want a repeat of last night, and any time I got tipsy, I tended to shed my inhibitions where Cole was concerned.
I stayed quiet, if not silent, during the first three courses, and Cole didn’t say much either. At one point, he got up to go check on Mariah, and Blair leaned over and whispered to me, “Everything okay? You guys both seem kind of down.”
I forced a smile. “All good. Just enjoying dinner.”
She glanced at my beef tenderloin and roasted potatoes. “What dinner? That one right there? The one that’s still on your plate?”
Pressing my lips together, I reached for my water. “This dress is tight. I don’t want to overeat.”
“Cheyenne, you—”
“Shh,” I admonished. “He’s coming back.”
“Bathroom break before cake?”
I nodded. “Fine.”
Once our entrées were cleared, half of mine left uneaten, Blair and I grabbed our small clutches from beneath our chairs and headed for the ladies’ room. I helped her use the bathroom—the ball gown style she’d chosen meant she needed some assistance—and freshened up as we waited a few minutes for the lounge to clear. When it was just the two of us, she turned to me, her expression worried.
“Talk to me. Are you really okay?”
I smiled and lied. “I’m really okay.”
“Because the wedding party dance is coming up, and if you—”
“Blair.” I held up my palms. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”
The tension in her face eased. “Okay. Because we can always switch things up. Frannie can dance with Cole, and you can dance with Moretti.”
“No need to change anything.” I swallowed hard. “I’m used to this, remember? He was never mine, and he’s never going to be mine, and dancing with someone else doesn’t make that less true.”
“But it might make it less painful,” she said softly.
I shook my head, willing the sob in my chest to stay there. “Don’t worry about me.”
Two friends of my mother’s entered the bathroom and immediately accosted Blair, telling her how beautiful everything was. After chatting with them for a moment, we headed back to the table, where cake had been served along with pitchers of coffee.
Cole was back at Mariah’s table, but he looked over at me as I sat down. Averting my eyes, I poured myself some coffee, took a couple bites of cake without tasting them, and tried to keep breathing. He stayed at the kids’ table, his cake left untouched.
“When’s the wedding party dance?” I asked Blair.
“In about ten minutes,” she said.
“Good. I’m just going to grab some air first if that’s okay?”
She hesitated, and then nodded. “It’s okay.”
Without looking in Cole’s direction, I went to the coat room and asked the attendant for my faux fur stole, which all the women in the wedding party had worn. Wrapping it around my shoulders, I slipped outside.
The snow had finally stopped falling, and the night was clear, a few stars visible in the sky. I tipped my face up and out of habit, wished on the first one I saw.
I wish Cole could be mine.
Then I shook my head, blinking away tears. I really needed to stop doing that—wishing on stars was for kids. I was fucking thirty, and that wish was never going to come true. Taking deep breaths of icy air, I shivered and pulled my stole tighter around me. But I didn’t want to go in yet—I wanted to get so cold I felt numb.
“Cheyenne?”
At the sound of his voice, I turned. “Cole. Hey.”
“What are you doing out here? You’re going to freeze.”
“Nah.” I looked up at the sky again, at the traitorous stars. “I’m just getting some air.”
“Blair said you were out here—I said I’d come get you. It’s about time for the dance.”
“Oh. Okay.” Glancing at him, I tried a joke. “Ready to bust a move?”
He laughed a little. “I’m just hoping I don’t bust your toes.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep them out of your way.” I moved for the door, but he reached for my arm.
“Cheyenne, wait. I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk.”
“Maybe later, okay?” I said, gently shaking his hand off me. “We’d better get inside. I can hardly feel my feet, which won’t help us on the dance floor.”
Nodding, he pulled the door open for me without another word.
Inside, I d
ropped my stole in the coat room and made my way toward the edge of the dance floor, where I saw the rest of the wedding party waiting for the music to start.
Blair looked relieved when she saw me. “You’re back.”
“I’m back.” I could feel it when Cole took his place beside me.
“So when the song begins, we’re all just going to go out there,” Blair said, addressing everyone. “No announcements or anything.”
“Got it.” I nodded, a shiver moving through me as Cole placed a hand at the small of my back. I remembered being in his arms last night, the way his body had felt on mine, the way he’d kissed me. The song began, and he gently nudged me forward onto the floor.
I held my breath as he slipped one arm around me and took my hand in his. Placing my left palm on his broad shoulder, I made sure to keep my body several inches from his, so that our chests were not pressed together. We swayed a little awkwardly to the music, like middle schoolers at their first dance, afraid to get too close. My stomach jittered with nerves. Eventually I had to inhale, and when I did, the scent of him filled my head.
Oh God, how long was this song going to go on?
Over Cole’s shoulder, I saw Griffin holding Blair tight, Beckett and Alexis laughing at something, and Frannie grinning as Moretti turned her beneath his arm. Everyone was having a better time than we were—was it obvious?
Glancing at the guests, I saw my mother dabbing at her eyes, Charlie Frankel smiling fondly, Mariah shifting her weight from side to side, impatient to have her turn on the dance floor. It gave me an idea.
“You should dance with Mariah,” I said.
“Yeah, I promised her I would, at some point.”
“No, I mean during this song. Like, trade me for her, so she can be part of this. After all, she’s in the wedding party too.”
Cole was silent a moment. And then, “I don’t want to dance with Mariah right now. I want to dance with you.”
Make Me Yours: The Bellamy Creek Series Page 16
