by Kim Law
The man whose girlfriend now stopped directly in front of Arsula.
“Do you have a minute?” Megan asked. “I could use a quick boost of support.”
“Of course.” Arsula ignored Jaden. “Do you want to step out of the room?”
“No.” Megan shook her head, and then she motioned in the opposite direction from where Jaden stood. “Maybe just off to the side of the crowd?”
They slipped to the periphery, but before Arsula could say anything, Megan began.
“I ended things in the parking lot tonight. And I feel horrible.”
Arsula barely kept her jaw from dropping. “In the parking lot?”
No wonder Jaden had been absent all evening.
“I couldn’t help it. He had a ring.”
“An engagement ring?” Arsula asked, for clarity.
“Yes. And he showed up so late today that I didn’t have time to talk to him beforehand. He just . . . pushed. And I . . .” She trailed off with a quick glance toward the bar.
“You did what you know in your heart was right,” Arsula reminded her. When Megan had first sought her out, Arsula had seen immediately that she’d outgrown the relationship. As much as anything, Megan had needed someone to tell her it was okay to feel what she was feeling. “You did what you’d planned to do, anyway.”
“I know. Yes.” Megan nodded, as if trying to refortify herself. “It was the right thing to do. I do know that. Stringing it out wouldn’t have helped anything. I just . . .” Sadness filled her eyes as she stared back at Arsula. “I still care for him, Arsula. He’s my friend. Or he was my friend. Long before we ever started dating. And I hurt him tonight.”
“Of course you still care for him.” She took the other woman’s hands in hers. “And we both know the last thing you wanted was to hurt him.”
They’d talked multiple times after the initial conversation concerning Megan’s dreams, and though Arsula felt bad that their discussion had led to the other woman ending what had once been a promising relationship, she’d never once considered retracting anything she’d said. She trusted her gift. Always.
Even if she did hate the pain it sometimes inflicted.
“But as you just said”—Arsula didn’t break eye contact—“delaying wouldn’t have helped anything. For either of you.”
“Right.”
Arsula hated the helpless look marring the other woman’s face.
“And yes, I know that this was the right thing to do,” Megan went on. “He needs”—she shrugged—“a different kind of love than I can give him now.”
Arsula squeezed her hands. “He needs his soul mate.”
“Exactly.” Megan squeezed back. “And though I hate that that’s not me . . .”
She trailed off again, but this time it was Arsula who glanced toward the bar. Only, Jaden no longer stood there. “You’ll both be better off with the decision having been made,” Arsula finished for her.
Megan nodded, the guilt covering her face beginning to lift. “We will.”
She looked out over the crowd then, not seeming to land on any one person as her eyes tracked the partygoers, and before long, the confident woman Arsula had come to know returned.
“We will,” Megan said again, this time without hesitation, and then she pulled Arsula in for a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered into her ear. “Both for helping me to see things before and for giving me the reminder I needed tonight.”
As Megan returned to the throng of people, Arsula remained where she stood. And she reminded herself that playing a part in hurting him or not, her reason for moving to Birch Bay was Jaden. And Jaden would soon be heading back to Seattle.
Therefore, she had to talk to him tonight.
The problem with that lay in the fact that she didn’t quite know how to start. She had no clue what demons might keep him awake at night, and neither did she expect him to be open to talking with her. From the little she knew about the guy, he was more of a by-the-book type than one willing to embrace his feelings.
Additionally, and this was pure speculation on her part, she’d guess Jaden Wilde to be the type to mock her beliefs instead of being open to them. Or heck, maybe she’d been obtuse for the last ten years and everyone had been mocking her. Laughing at her behind her back.
After all, if that’s what her dad had been doing . . .
She swallowed past her hurt and pushed the negative thoughts aside. She wouldn’t let herself believe that. She’d helped many people, and they were thankful for it.
The women on her mother’s side of the family were born with a gift. At least, everyone but her mother had been. A gift meant for helping others, and one to be treated with respect. So help Jaden Wilde she would. And maybe by doing so . . . she’d find a way to prove herself to her father once and for all.
And if she didn’t?
Her chest grew tight. Then maybe she’d agree that her father was right once and for all.
“Are you going to marry Megan someday?”
Jaden jerked his attention from the woman who’d not only been dancing with his father earlier, but who’d also just shared a private conversation with his girlfriend.
He stared down at the seven-year-old in his arms. “What?”
Had Megan said something to her?
“Because if you are,” Jenna went on, “I could be your flower girl. I have experience now.”
Relief rushed him at his niece’s words. Hopefully no one was feeling sorry for him yet.
“I see that you do.” He nodded toward her pink-and-red dress as they danced, then extended one arm, the movement encouraging her to do her “signature twirl.” “You did an excellent job being the flower girl tonight.”
Jenna slanted her lips accusingly. “You didn’t even see me do it, Uncle Jaden. You were late, remember? We were all waiting on you.” She twirled under his arm once more and, after retaking his free hand, peered up. “What were you doing sitting outside in your car for so long, anyway?”
“I was . . .” He searched for Megan—who’d steadfastly been keeping a minimum of thirty feet between them since finishing dinner. He found her in lively discussion with yet another group of people. “Megan and I had something to talk about,” he answered absentmindedly.
When had his girlfriend become acquainted with so many people in town? He’d swear she knew more residents than he did, and she’d only been around for a few weeks.
“Was it about getting married?” Jenna asked, and once again, he brought his gaze back to hers. “’Cause I heard Pops and Gramma talking about it last week,” she explained. “They said that weddings were running in the family and that you and Megan would probably be next.”
Weddings definitely seemed to be running in the family. First his dad and Gloria, then Dani and Ben, then Nick and Harper, and now Gabe and Erica.
And dammit, he should be next.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Maybe.” He refused to state out loud that there was even a chance he wouldn’t be marrying Megan. The more he’d thought about their conversation in the car, the more he’d decided he’d been right. It was cold feet. She couldn’t really dump him so easily and just move on with her life. Not after all the years they’d been together.
He glanced at her again, and annoyance returned. She couldn’t just dump him, no matter how easy she might currently be making it seem.
The song came to an end, and before he could ask if Jenna would like to dance again, she let go of his hands. “Thank you for the dance. You were a lovely partner.” She offered a curtsy, and her dimples winked, even though she tried to keep a straight face.
He tilted his head. “I can’t talk you into another?”
Dancing with her would be better than stewing over Megan. Or wondering about the woman he’d seen talking with Megan.
Who was that woman, anyway? Clearly a bridesmaid, based on her dress—but he didn’t remember seeing her earlier. And what had she and Megan talked about? She’d even held Megan�
��s hands at one point.
Jenna gave him a look that went well beyond her years, while also crossing her arms over her thin chest. “I was just trying to be nice when I said you were a lovely partner, Uncle Jaden. You stepped on my feet three times. I think maybe it was because you weren’t exactly into the dance. You kept looking around at everything else.”
He grimaced. Called out by a seven-year-old.
“I did do that,” he confessed. “And I’m sorry.” He kissed the back of her hand and offered an apologetic pout. “Forgive me?”
“Maybe.” She returned another beyond-her-years look, and he could see her thoughts churning. “But only if you promise to let me be your flower girl.”
He loved that she didn’t immediately cave. “What about Haley?”
Haley was Ben’s daughter. She was the same age as Jenna.
Jenna seemed to consider her options, her gaze seeking out her cousin as she grew quiet and contemplative, and then she gave Jaden a decisive nod. “Two flower girls. Twice the rose petals. We can each go up one side of the aisle, and your wedding will be twice as beautiful.”
Jaden grinned despite the giant crack that remained in his heart. He loved spending time with his nieces, and once he moved back home, he intended to make that a priority.
“Deal,” he said.
They shook on it, and as Jenna moved off, she zeroed in on Nate. At the same time, Haley went after Nick. Another song swelled under the tulle and twinkle lights as the dancing continued, and Jaden allowed his eyes to once again scan over the crowd. But this time it wasn’t solely Megan he sought.
Someone bumped into him before he could locate either his girlfriend or the mystery bridesmaid, and he decided it was time to get off the dance floor.
Heading back to the bar, he ordered another whiskey and sent the amber liquid along the same path several had forged before it—and that was when his gaze landed on Megan. She sat with his dad and Gloria now, still acting as if there wasn’t a thing in the world wrong, and he reminded himself he could be just as casual as she was. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d perfected the pose over the last couple of hours. Hadn’t he spent the evening doing a fair amount of laughing and talking of his own? Just two people working the room. That’s all they were.
Not two people on the brink of collapse.
He ordered one more drink, this one on the rocks since that last one had kicked his buzz into high gear, and he waded back into the dancers. He had to get Megan alone. There was no way he would just accept her dumping him, and certainly not due to some dream. She had too solid a head on her shoulders for that. It had to be that she was going through something she hadn’t told him about. A stressor of some sort. He’d get her alone, make her talk through whatever it was, and they’d be fine.
A whisper of a laugh sounded to his left, and he glanced over to find his sister gently swaying in the arms of her husband. Their three-month-old had been bundled up and taken off to bed after dinner, and Dani now only had eyes for the man in front of her. The sight had Jaden stopping. His sister’s happiness still managed to astound him. If anyone deserved it, it was her.
He fingered the ring in his pocket and restarted his path, and when he emerged from the crowd, he positioned himself two tables from Megan. He nodded hello to a couple of neighbors he hadn’t seen in a while and made a show of nursing his drink. But Megan rose within seconds of his arrival. She pressed quick kisses to his dad’s and then to Gloria’s cheeks, and Jaden kept an even expression as he eyed her departing back. This was not how he’d seen the evening going.
His girlfriend made another round on the dance floor, speaking briefly to Gabe and Erica, before laughing at whatever Nate said as he and Jenna sidled up behind her. She turned to the two of them, her smile wide and welcoming, and allowed herself to be pulled into the dance.
Jaden’s irritation grew as he watched. He didn’t like seeing the woman who was supposed to be his girlfriend wrapped in the arms of another man. Even if it was one of his brothers.
Thankfully, the song ended sooner rather than later, but Jaden had barely risen to his feet before Megan headed for the door. And just like that, she was gone.
Without so much as a glance at him.
He dropped back to his seat, dumbfounded. Dammit. He deserved better than that.
He also acknowledged that the pain that had been swelling steadily behind his breastbone all night suddenly exploded.
Dani’s gaze met his from over Ben’s shoulder, and Jaden couldn’t miss the sympathy in the slant to her mouth. And without words, he knew that she knew. And dammit to hell, he didn’t need his sister feeling sorry for him tonight.
Thumping the pad of his thumb against the side of his now-empty glass, he turned away from Dani’s prying eyes. He also reapplied his it’s-all-good face. He didn’t know how many people had picked up on the fact that his supposed girlfriend hadn’t spoken to him all evening, but he determined that if he acted as if all was right with the world, no one would ask him about it. Because talking about it might just make it clear how pissed off he really was.
He eyed the bar, calculated how long it would take to work his way back to it, and then two hands appeared in his view. One hand held a double shot of whiskey—long, tapered fingers gripping the small glass from the top—while the other encircled a tumbler of water.
He looked up at the bearer of drinks, for some reason unsurprised to find the bridesmaid standing before him. And realized just how drop-dead gorgeous she was.
“Drink?” she asked. Lashes as dark as her hair surrounded brown eyes.
“Which can I have?” He eyed her high cheekbones.
“Whichever you want.”
Jaden took the shot glass, then he squinted at the woman as he gulped down half the liquid. He really wished he’d paid more attention when introductions had been made earlier.
Or if introductions had been made. He couldn’t say for sure that they had been.
“I’m Arsula,” she eventually told him.
She pronounced her name in a way as if to indicate he should already know that.
“The woman you walked down the aisle earlier tonight?” she added in a questioning tone.
His squint turned into a frown. That had been her?
How the hell had he not noticed what she looked like then?
“You don’t say,” he muttered. He tossed back the rest of the drink, then he let himself take a careful look at what he’d missed earlier.
His eyes trailed over her, taking in the deep red of the dress that was cinched at a high waist before it draped smoothly over her hips. The amount and cut of material didn’t necessarily scream sexy—and other than the V neckline, her hands and fingers, and the peekaboo hints of tanned flesh displayed at the curve of each shoulder, no other skin showed. Yet the dress didn’t have to hug her for him to understand it hid curves. Especially since she now had a hip cocked to one side and a hand at her waist.
“You about finished there, Romeo?”
He dragged his eyes back up her body. It was possible he’d had a shot or two too many. “Just about,” he told her. Screw Megan. If she could dump him the way she had, then he could certainly flirt with a bridesmaid at his brother’s wedding. “But if you wanted to twirl in place”—he did a little spinning motion with one finger—“I’d be more than happy to check out the back side as well.”
“Good grief.” She rolled her eyes at him, then pulled out a chair. “I should have given you the water,” she muttered as she plopped ungracefully into the seat.
“No one needs water tonight.” Jaden took the glass from her as she lifted it to her mouth and replaced it with a flute of champagne he snatched from a passing server. “Drink up, lovely bridesmaid.” He nodded toward the fizzing bubbles. “You’re already behind.”
She had the thickest bottom lip he’d ever seen.
“I’ll drink it”—she eyed him critically—“but trust me, I have no intention of catching up.”
“No?” Jaden watched as she drank. “Then what are your intentions?”
This time she eyed him while she downed the alcohol.
When the glass was half-empty, she dabbed a napkin at the corner of her lips and folded her hands in her lap. “I actually have no intentions,” she informed him. “I’m good at reading people, so I came over because you looked like you could use a friend.”
Her words deflated his budding mood. “My friend ratio is fine,” he grumbled. Then he glanced toward the door where Megan had disappeared.
“That why you’re sitting over here pouting?”
He jerked his gaze back to hers. “I’m not pouting.”
“No?” She finished the champagne, licking her lips with a smacking noise. “Could have fooled me.” She eyed the same door he’d just been scowling at. “Want to talk about it?”
Who the hell was this woman? “No.” He studied her a moment longer. “I do not want to talk about it.”
Nor did he care that he’d had too much to drink in too short a time, that he would likely drink a heck of a lot more before the night was over, and that if she would humor him, he’d bring the bridesmaid a drink every time he got one for himself.
Because to hell with it. There was a party going on around them, and he hadn’t flown in from Seattle to do nothing but sit at a table and stew. It was Valentine’s Day. The day for “love.”
His freaking birthday. He frowned.
He would deal with what might or might not be left of his and Megan’s relationship tomorrow, but tonight he intended to forget there was an issue.
He rose from his chair, proud of himself for weaving only marginally, and held out a hand to the lady in red. “Can I interest you in a . . .” He frowned again as his words stalled. “What did you say your name was?” It had been something weird.
“Arsula.”
“Right.” He nodded, noticing that her eyes were too pretty to simply be referred to as brown. “Arsula.” Definitely a weird name.
