Whatever Comes Our Way (Everyday Love Book 2)

by Jaycee Weaver

  “Yeah,” he remembered Josh’s dad, and his brother Jude. He was pretty sure the lanky teenager in the back with his face glued to his phone was Brynn’s little brother Trey, and the other older guy talking to Josh’s dad was Brynn’s father. Couldn’t remember his name, though. Trent, one of the guys from their men’s group, was also there. A distinguished looking older man in a well-tailored suit with a measuring tape around his neck was approaching the men.

  “Well, gentlemen, are we ready?” He motioned to three mannequins along the wedding wall. “These are the three styles our bride has selected. Why don’t we get everyone measured and I can recommend which style will best suit the majority of you?” The assistant’s eyes shrewdly assessed each of the men.

  Jaydon realized that most of the men were fairly tall, but he was easily the biggest dude there. That should make things fun, he thought drily. There were always alterations for him. He’d had to special order the tux for his own wedding back in the day. Of course, Kelly just had to choose the very latest style and those weren’t generally stocked in big & tall sizes back then. Brynn was wise to ensure they took care of these things months ahead.

  After Jaydon’s turn getting measured, he stood with Josh and they joked around a few minutes. Jaydon asked how Brynn was handling the wedding stress while finishing out her student teaching and getting so close to graduation. Jaydon could read Josh’s pride in his fiancée all over his face. It was hard not to feel envious. Even harder not to keep remembering his own wedding, immersed as he was here.

  Ten years. How could it have been that long already? Ten years ago, he’d stood in a shop just like this one, wet behind the ears and grinning like a fool—trying on tuxes and feeling on top of the world. A lovesick puppy without a clue about the five-year-long nightmare he was entering.

  Too bad he couldn’t have known back then that special ordering a tux would be the least difficult part of things, or that the woman he thought he’d loved was really a mind warping narcissist with the propensity for destroying people the way a wood chipper shreds dead trees.

  He felt guilty thinking that way about her, but….

  It took a few minutes and a whole lot of effort, but Jaydon was able to bring his thoughts and feelings back under control. He forced himself to pay attention to the different conversations around him. The older men were talking about grandchildren and their hopes for more, soon. The youth pastor part of him wanted to go hang with Trey. He seemed like a cool kid, even if he did spend too much time with his face in his phone, like most teens he knew.

  He caught the tail end of Josh and Trent’s basketball debate and was about to add his own two cents when the tailored sales guy walked up, rubbing his hands together. Jaydon scanned the group and bit back a chuckle. All the guys were zoning out within thirty seconds of the man launching into a detailed description of each item.

  He was reasonably sure this was stuff Josh and Brynn could have worked out last week, but knowing Brynn, it would’ve taken half an eternity for her to weigh the options until she came to a decision. He knew Josh was trying to help her step out of that habit and trust her instincts a little more. Maybe this was her way of doing that.

  Even so, leaving it up to a bunch of dudes to decide which tux to wear might backfire. They were all well aware it would be uncomfortable and expensive, so just tell them all what to wear, where and when to get fitted, pick it up, and be done with it already.

  Finally, the tux guy wrapped up his lengthy spiel and ushered them to where he’d laid out the options. That was better. It only took a minute for the guys to point and agree with Josh’s choices. Done. Praise God. Hand over the credit cards already and let’s go. Some of us need to eat.

  Brynn and Josh’s dads wanted to treat the guys to lunch at the microbrewery a few doors down. Jaydon wouldn’t argue. He could tell he was getting hangry, and this place already had a reputation for quality food and beer.

  He surveyed the exterior as they walked down the sidewalk. The owners had updated the front with a quirky façade that somehow worked with the ‘70s architecture. Inside, it was a bit darker than he’d expected, but it had a cool style that meshed new and old with an industrial feel. Giant metal tanks along the back wall contrasted with the wood paneling behind them.

  The bar top was a long cross-section of an old tree, lacquered with a thick, high gloss. His grandmother had a coffee table that was similar when he was a kid. The wood everywhere gave him an itch to work in his shop.

  The front of the bar, below the top, was corrugated metal and had dark galvanized pipe running along at footrest height. A mix of tables with mismatched chairs fit the atmosphere.

  The place was really cool.

  The men slid together two low-top tables and found seats. Josh and his dad both decided to try the flight of select craft brews described on giant chalkboards above the bar. Brynn’s dad ordered sodas for himself and Trey. Jaydon finally settled on the house specialty amber ale, and Trent a simple iced tea.

  As the waitress left, Jaydon remembered that Trent didn’t often indulge after struggling with alcohol in his younger years. He felt like a jerk. He should have stuck with tea for solidarity.

  “Sorry, man, I didn’t even think,” he said in a low voice and nodded to their drinks.

  “Nah, it’s cool. I’m fine with my tea, and I don’t begrudge you having a pint. Truthfully—and I’m new at this whole thing so my opinion’s not worth a lot—I think it’s cool to see a pastor being a normal guy. Never understood people making a fuss over a little beer or wine now and then. I mean, you’re not gonna sit here and get drunk.”

  “No, I’m not. And a beer is just a beer, when consumed with self-control. There are more important things to do than make an issue of it.”

  “Good call. A lot of people don’t feel that way.”

  “I know. There are plenty of ways people might be offended anymore. I prefer not to get caught up in debates about things that don’t make a difference in the Kingdom’s bigger picture.”

  Trent saluted him with his glass and they let the conversation drop.

  Bright afternoon light flooded the doorway and most of the patrons’ heads swiveled to check out the group of loudly clucking hens…or, at least, what sounded like it. Women streamed through the door, dark shadows rimmed with floodlight, raising the volume of the establishment as they poured through the door, laughing loudly and talking over one another.

  Jaydon turned back to the guys at his table and caught Josh’s face as it broke into a wide grin, his dimple deepening to a tight speck in one cheek. Brynn rushed to him and they embraced with all the enthusiasm he’d expect from a couple rapidly approaching their wedding.

  Trailing behind and already scooting over more tables and chairs were their mothers, Josh’s sister, and a couple women he didn’t know. He leaned to the side to get a better look at the back of the group, a smile hovering just under the surface knowing she’d be there.

  Gina. He managed to observe her a moment before her gaze caught his. Man, she was pretty. The way her eyes looked huge surrounded by the fan of dark lashes. Her olive skin tone and that thick, shiny hair he suddenly wanted to touch and see if it was as soft as it looked. That straight smile that spoke of her sharp humor. Her—

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she whispered as she slid into a chair next to him. His grin was hard to swallow even with the embarrassment of being caught staring.

  “Not a bad idea, actually,” he gave his brows a waggle as he waved his phone in front of her.

  She snatched the phone and stuck it in her jeans’ back pocket. Her eyes dared him to protest.

  He was far too tempted to reach for it. Totally inappropriate. What was it about this woman that made him feel so…familiar? He gave her a single raised eyebrow and crooked grin.

  She mimicked his facial expression spot-on. Aw man, she was trouble.

  A few minutes later, the server took their orders. It wasn’t long before she returned with
loaded trays that smelled incredible. Not only was this place known for their delicious microbrews, but they had a chef who was as much of a miracle worker in the kitchen as their decorator was with the dated architecture and wood paneling.

  He bumped Gina’s shoulder with his own. “So, I take it you survived the rest of spring break?”

  “Barely. Pretty sure I’m gonna have me a throw down with Micah before long, though.”

  “Micah?”

  “Yeah, the part timer. He’s always late, but he’s so good with the kids—especially the rowdy older boys—that it’s hard to stay mad at him. When I call him on it, he just smiles like he’s got all the time in the world and nothing gets to him. I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna get to him if he doesn’t start showing some respect.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh heartily. She sparked with life and attitude.

  “So,” she continued after taking a swig of amber from the pint in front of her, “how’s the pastor gig going these days? Looks like you survived spring break as well.”

  He reached for his own amber and realized something was off.

  “Did you just steal my beer?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed it was delivered by accident and I couldn’t let it go to waste.”

  He gave her a look that clearly expressed his doubts. Her return look was full of feigned innocence and sass.

  “What? I thought pastors didn’t drink.”

  “Many don’t, some do on occasion. Different denominations, different rules.”

  “My bad,” she grinned. “Do you need me to order you a fresh one?”

  “Nah,” he reached for the glass and sucked down a gulp. “We can share.”

  What was he doing flirting with a girl he hardly knew? This was not his normal behavior. But there was clearly some chemistry here and it was just too fun surprising her.

  She tweaked an eyebrow, those copper pennies glinting with humor. “I see how you are. You’re going to wait for me to order one and help yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” he grinned and took a huge bite of his massive bacon cheeseburger.

  She eyed the basket in front of him and then fixed her gaze back on her own, deflating slightly at the pile of steamed broccoli beside her grilled fish tacos topped with slaw and chipotle aioli. Whatever aioli was. He’d been eyeing them on the menu, but the burger had called his name.

  He shook his basket toward her. “Want a fry?”

  “Nah,” she repeated, using the same inflection he’d used a moment earlier, “I’ll eat my stinky trees here.”

  “Stinky trees?” He understood her meaning, but it was a rather funny way to describe broccoli.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard a couple of the littler kids call broccoli ‘trees,’ which is adorable. But once they’re steamed? P.U. They’re stinky trees. Like Bradford pears in the spring.”

  “Bradford pears are also stinky trees?”

  “Yeah, have you ever walked through a cluster of pretty, white-blossomed trees in spring, and suddenly smelled rotting fishy garbage? Bradford pears. They attract flies as their pollinators. Every time I eat cooked broccoli I think of them.”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  “Seriously? They attract flies instead of bees? That’s kind of gross. Why on earth do people plant them if they smell so bad?”

  “They’re gorgeous. In the spring, the flowers are dainty and exquisite, and in fall the leaves are a vibrant color. Plus, they make great street trees because of their shape.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the local botanist.”

  She blushed prettily and glanced away. He followed her gaze and realized Brynn was watching them intently with a playful smile. He knew that look. Brynn was getting ideas. Time to put the kibosh on whatever she had planned.

  Before he could utter a word, Gina silenced her friend. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, brow lines changing in intensity as her expression changed. She gave a barely perceptible shake of the head while Brynn just sat there grinning like Sylvester with a mouthful of Tweety Bird.

  “Gina’s become quite the landscaper. You should see her backyard. It’s like her own private botanic garden.”

  Huh. Not something he’d have pegged about her. Jaydon was rarely surprised by people, but he supposed when he thought about it, it kind of fit with her whole caregiver personality. She didn’t just stop with kids and old people. She apparently had a knack for caring for plants as well.

  “Oh sí!” Gina waved Brynn off. “I just like being outside. Working in my yard relaxes me. It’s nothing that unusual.”

  “Says the girl who just wove a tidbit about a tree that attracts flies into a conversation over lunch,” he teased.

  They both leaned back in their chairs, which had somehow become angled toward one another, and silently chewed their respective meals.

  He wanted to come up with something else to tease her or bring out that lightheartedness he’d glimpsed, but nothing came to mind. Brynn leaned forward and the two began a quiet conversation he could barely pick up in the din of the restaurant.

  He turned his chair back to the table and leaned to his left to join Trent and some of the other guys watching a game on the big screen nearby while he finished his burger and fries.

  No other opportunity came up to engage Gina for the rest of the meal, and Jaydon found himself wondering why he was so disappointed by that. He also questioned why, for the first time in ages, the thought of pursuing something with a woman didn’t sound completely terrible.

  Everyone eventually paid their bills, rose to their feet, and made their goodbyes. When he glanced around, he noticed his phone had been mysteriously returned to his place at the table. Gina was gone as if she’d simply vanished. She must have left without a goodbye while he’d been distracted.

  It shouldn’t bother him, but it did.

  Chapter 7

  Gina

  The angry guitar riff of the ringtone she’d assigned her mother blared through the kitchen. Gina’s head whipped up at the unexpected intrusion on her peaceful afternoon. She’d been thoroughly immersed in her usual Sunday afternoon routine of preparing meals for the week.

  If she ever hoped to get her weight under control again and feel like she was making something better of her life, she needed to have everything carefully planned out and prepped in advance—not sit here and talk to her mother for half an hour about the new man who was surely going to make her life complete. Or listen to the tears if she’d been dumped and was tying one off somewhere and needed a ride or money. Again.

  She cringed when the ringer went off another time. Answering wasn’t the preferable choice, but she’d feel horribly guilty if her mother needed her and she’d simply ignored the call.

  Darn that pesky sense of responsibility.

  “Mija!”

  Her mother’s jovial term of endearment didn’t sound slurred. Must mean a new boyfriend or she needed money.

  “Hey, Mamá,” Gina sighed. “Everything okay?”

  The laughter in Gina’s ear was so loud she had to pull the phone away.

  “Oh, Mija, everything is fine. I just called to see how you’re doing.”

  Gina was used to the endearment, but sometimes it still gripped her heart. Abuelita had also called her that. Well, lots of Hispanics call daughters and granddaughters mija. Technically, it was a contracted version of “mi hija,” which sounds like “me ee-ha” and basically means, “my daughter,” or “my girl.” Her grandmother had made it feel special. From her complicated mother, it was just another nickname.

  “Honey? Are you there?”

  Gina’s brows pinched together in disbelief. Her mother actually sounded…healthy.

  “Um, I’m fine. Are you sure everything’s okay? You sound weird.”

  “Baby girl, I’m doing great. Better than great. I’ve got some things to tell you that you’ll never believe! How about you come over for dinner soon? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.�
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  Who was this woman?

  In all her 28 years, Gina had never heard her mom sound like this. God, what is going on here? Is she okay? A little wisdom would be nice.

  “Uh, okay, Mamá. Sure. Let’s plan something for next week.” Maybe whatever was going on with her would pass and she’d be her usual, predictably messy self again.

  “Okay,” Eva’s voice dipped slightly. “We can do next week if you’re too busy.”

  “No, Mamá. I meant this coming week. I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention that today is Sunday.” She searched her memory to see which nights she was supposed to help Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. “How about I come over on Thursday?”

  That would give her four days to find a reason to cancel. She cringed and silenced the guilt.

  “Okay, baby girl. I will take Thursday. I’ll even make enchiladas and rice.”

  “I’ll bring salad.” Gina pursed her lips. She’d have to have something to eat besides an overloaded pan of cheese, chicken, green chile, and corn tortillas. With the side of straight carbs. Wait, why was she planning a salad again? She was going to cancel. Not eat dinner with whoever this crazy woman was.

  “Did you invite Tonya, too?”

  “I tried. She hasn’t been answering my calls. But I’d like to talk to her and see my grandbaby. Do you think you could call her for me? See if you can get her to come?”

  Her mother sounded so hopeful that Gina couldn’t say no. Argh! Why was she so weak?! Why did she let the guilt make her give in when she knew it was so much healthier to keep her distance?

  “I’ll call her. Is everything okay with the house?”

  “Yeah, I like it here and the neighbors are nice. It’s a good area, not like the ghetto we used to live in.” Eva sighed. “I should have worked harder to get you girls out of there.”

  Wait. Now her mom had regret? Seriously, who was this woman?

  “I have to go, Mamá. I’m making dinners for the week and I need to stir the pots.”