Arrogant Devil

by R.S. Grey

  “Yes, right. Whatever. Are you sure you don’t want to ride with me and Jack? These country roads can be treacherous.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  “It sprinkled earlier, so the roads are slick. Tucker probably doesn’t know how to maneuver as well as Jack does.”

  “I don’t care. There’s no way I’m getting in a truck with Jack.”

  “Listen, I don’t blame you. After you told me what you two fought about, I don’t really want to be in a truck with him either. We can leave him here, go by ourselves?”

  Tucker pulls up and honks his horn before she can convince me to change my mind.

  She sees me off, not bothering to wave to Tucker. I don’t know why she suddenly hates him considering how hard she pushed me into being his plus one.

  Jack doesn’t show his face.

  As we drive toward the church, Tucker and I have painful first date conversation that makes my pits sweat.

  Did you have a good rest of your week?

  Weather’s been nice hasn’t it?

  What kind of music do you like?

  I’m itchy from how much it seems like a cross-examination.

  He compliments me on my dress and tells me he’s been excited to pick me up all day. He looks handsome in a dark blue suit. Everything we talk about is light and pleasant. I should be enjoying myself. Instead, I nearly barrel roll out of the truck after he swings into a parking space.

  The church is a block over from the town square. There are cars lining the street, and Tucker tells me most of the restaurants and shops around Cedar Creek are closed for the night because so many people will be at the wedding. He’s not kidding. When we walk into the church, it’s overflowing. There’s no bride’s side and groom’s side of the aisle; seating is simply first come, first served. There’s a good chance I’ll end up scooted onto Tucker’s lap during the ceremony.

  It seems most everyone knows each other, and Tucker is extra popular. For every one step we take, two friends come up to greet him. He introduces me to everyone and just about all of them proclaim that they’re huggers. I see a few women from yoga, and they’re all excited to see me here on Tucker’s arm. I get a few conspicuous thumbs up and one rather loud, Giddit, girl! It seems the whole town sees him as their golden boy.

  “C’mon,” he says after we’ve finished making the rounds. “My friends saved us some seats up toward the altar.”

  Of course it takes another ten minutes to fight through the crowd of people congregating in the aisle, but we eventually break through to the other side.

  A short guy in a gray suit waves us down, and Tucker tells me that’s his best friend, Jacob.

  “Tucker’s told me a lot about you,” he says, shaking my hand enthusiastically.

  My smile falters for a moment, and fortunately Tucker saves me from having to reply.

  “Nothing much, I swear—just said I had a smokin’ hot date to the wedding.”

  Aw!

  Nice compliment considering my entire outfit cost me less than a cocktail back in California.

  I let him step past to sit beside Jacob then I take the aisle seat and turn to scan the crowd, looking for the one person I haven’t seen yet. He left after me, but the ceremony is due to start soon.

  It’s not hard to find him.

  Tall, dark, and handsome, Jack sticks out like a sore thumb.

  He’s sitting in the fourth pew across the aisle all by himself, staring straight ahead, jaw locked tight. He’s focusing on the altar like he’s deep in thought. All the while, life continues on around him—chatter and laughter among the adults, ringing giggles from the little kids. He’s separated from it all, a black cloud sitting in the middle of that church. He doesn’t turn to greet anyone, and in turn, everyone gives him a wide berth. They’ve completely written him off. Even Edith has abandoned him, opting instead to sit with her reading club friends on the other side of the church.

  I surreptitiously study him while Tucker talks to his friends. His broad shoulders are clad in a black suit jacket—the one I imagined him wearing the day I organized his closet. His dark hair is tamed and sexy, and his strong jaw is clean-shaven. He could be so popular, so beloved, if only he’d let it happen.

  I’m focused as if I’m going to try to paint him from memory later when his eyes cut to me, like he’s known I was there all along. A cascade of goose bumps roll down my body and I jerk my attention back to the altar. My heart pounds. My breathing is erratic. Luckily, I can just pretend to be emotional about the holy matrimony about to take place before me.

  Jack’s loner status doesn’t go unnoticed. One of Tucker’s friends mentions it.

  “Think someone ought to go save the poor guy? I feel kind of bad.”

  Tucker sneers. “He does it to himself with that damn attitude.”

  They chuckle and agree, and I’m left sitting there biting my tongue. My gut instinct is to defend Jack, but how? By admitting that he’s treated me poorly too? By confirming that he’s as mean as everyone thinks he is?

  “Don’t you agree, Meredith?”

  No.

  His actions might be indefensible, but I won’t pile on him with everyone else.

  I shake my head. “He’s fine.”

  “You could run for office with a poker face like that.” Jacob laughs heartily. “You live on that property with him day in and day out. He’s probably chewed your head off more times than you can count.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve given it right back to him.” Now shut up.

  Tucker chuckles and wraps his arm around my shoulder, jostling me. “That’s my girl.”

  I chance another glance at Jack and if possible, he looks even more annoyed and grumpy than he did a minute ago. His brows are furrowed and his attention is once again on the altar up ahead, unwavering. I want to crack his skull like a clam and read his thoughts. Why are you all alone? Why’d you have to push me away?

  The group of friends around me goes right on chatting, but I’m oblivious to their conversation. My attention is on Jack right up until Dotty walks up to his pew and asks if she can sit beside him. His brows arch in surprise and he scoots over, giving her the aisle seat.

  “Why are you smiling?” Tucker says, following my gaze.

  I blink and think quick, pointing to some floral arrangement a few feet beyond Jack’s pew. “I was just thinking those are some of the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen.”

  He laughs and rubs his thumb along my shoulder. “You like roses that much? I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  I strain my ears to try to catch a bit of Jack and Dotty’s conversation, but there are far too many people separating us. A few minutes later, I do catch his laugh though—deep and throaty—and my gut clenches tight.

  Then the ceremony starts and we all stand to watch Leanna walk down the aisle. For the first time since I arrived, I have no trouble keeping my attention on someone other than Jack. She walks toward Daniel with the biggest smile on her face and happy tears slipping down her cheeks. Her gown is a whole lot of dress. She’s gone for the full princess look, and it’s paying off—she’s breathtaking. Daniel obviously agrees, the look of pure adoration in his eyes spawning more than a few tears in the audience.

  It’s a heady experience to watch a marriage begin knowing my own is in the process of being dissolved. I think about that as Daniel and Leanna say their vows, staring into each other’s eyes and promising to stick together through thick and thin. I made those same vows, and a part of me feels guilty that I’m breaking them. Then I remind myself that Andrew was a different person when we got married, someone I trusted to take care of me and safeguard my heart. He chose to break our contract long before I did.

  Maybe I should be cynical about marriage now, but I’m not. Not every man is like Andrew. There are Daniels floating around the world, you just have to keep an eye out for them. Oh yeah, Meredith? And what about the Jacks of the world? What do you do for them?

  I glance over to see him fidgeting in
his pew. He angles his head toward the back of the church then scans the crowd, hopping from person to person before landing back on me. Our gazes click into place like two puzzle pieces. This time, neither one of us looks away. His dark eyes are all I see.

  The pastor speaks as Leanna and Daniel exchange rings: “May these rings be a visible symbol of the love that unites these two young hearts. May they serve as a daily reminder of the promises you made here today.”

  I know the words aren’t meant for us. We aren’t the ones standing up on the altar, but I can’t look away, and he isn’t either.

  “Meredith,” Tucker whispers. I jerk my gaze back to the altar like he’s just caught me red-handed. “Do you need a tissue?”

  “Oh, no thank you.” I’m not crying. In fact, I’d forgotten about the wedding altogether.

  I chance another quick peek and find that Jack is facing forward again.

  While the bride and groom snap photos with their family members after the ceremony, most of us walk one block over to the reception. It’s in the middle of the town square, in the park surrounding the courthouse. Twinkle lights glow overhead, and all of the tables are covered in red and white gingham tablecloths. For centerpieces, mason jars are filled with sunflowers and white roses. Whiskey barrels serve as cocktail tables, and booze flows in every direction. Tucker goes to get me a glass of wine while I hang back with his friends. They really are nice, and even though they all grew up together, they don’t make me feel like an outsider. Jacob even promises he’ll teach me how to two-step after finding out I’ve never done it before. They all latch onto that, completely shocked that I could exist for twenty-eight years without ever having stepped foot in a “honky-tonk”.

  “Here you are,” Tucker says, rejoining the group with a Corona for himself and a glass of white wine for me. “Sauvignon blanc, hope that’s okay.”

  The wine is delicious, so crisp and refreshing. It’s been a while since I’ve tasted wine this good, and I make a mental note to pace myself or I’ll be acting a fool out on the dance floor later with Jacob and Tucker.

  Once the bride and groom make their appearance, they open two buffet lines and everyone makes quick work of piling their plates with barbecue from Blue Stone’s restaurant. I’m carrying my plate back to our group’s table when I catch sight of Jack.

  What is it about a handsome man sitting alone that makes your heart ache, even if you know the handsome man is sitting alone for a very good reason? He’s probably offended half the people in attendance and yet deep down, I know I shouldn’t give up on him.

  No!

  I shake off the feeling.

  I’m not about to march over there and save him. He made his bed, and now he can lie in it. I follow Tucker back to the table and start eating. I fork some potato salad into my gullet then nibble on some bread, but I have no appetite and just can’t handle the thought of Jack sitting by himself through the entire wedding reception.

  God help me.

  I turn to Tucker and offer up an easy smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  22

  Jack

  Edith talked me into coming to this wedding. They aren’t really my thing. In fact, given the choice between attending a wedding and getting a root canal, I’d lean back and say, Ahhhh.

  Daniel’s a good guy though, and he’s worked for me for years. I’m glad I’m here now, though I plan on leaving as soon as they cut the cake. I hate weddings; I do not hate cake. Maybe I can talk Edith into snagging me another piece on her way out. Unlike most old-timers who grumble about the lateness of the hour, she’ll be here until they shut the place down—except, she won’t agree to the cake idea. She’s not talking to me right now. She’s pissed about my fight with Meredith.

  “You think she left that husband for the attention?! How thick is that skull of yours?”

  Those were her exact words. Then, she called me an idiot and thumped me on the back of the head before walking right out of the room. Edith can scold with the best of them.

  I wonder if I’m really that far off about Meredith. I thought I was the only person in Cedar Creek thinking clearly about this woman, but I suppose it’s possible that the opposite is true. Should I not have trusted Helen’s judgment of her own sister? The day she showed up, she fit the stereotype I’d been warned about to a T: gorgeous, dolled up, headstrong. She didn’t seem like a wounded bird to me. Hell, she pecked at me every chance she got.

  I thought I’d finally pinned her down in my office the other day. I voiced every suspicion swirling in my head and then I watched, waiting for the fury, the anger, and the lies. I knew she’d deny it all, and she did, but something felt…off. I’ve never witnessed hurt like I saw in her eyes. My words weren’t just insulting, but deep affronts to her pride. I realized in that moment that my accusations might have been out of line.

  I hate to admit a mistake, because I try so hard not to make them, but there’s a possibility I’m wrong. Okay, there’s more than a possibility. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have stuck around this long if she were just trying to get a rise out of her husband. I was told she was entitled and spoiled, but other than the advance, she hasn’t asked for a single thing. She’s worked damn hard and then some. I never told her she had to bake cookies for the ranch hands or organize my closet. She puts in more hours than anyone else besides me, and I thanked her by—how did I put it? Ah yes, I accused her of being a spoiled, heartless flirt. Boy do I have a way with words.

  Christine would be howling with laughter if she could see me now, sitting alone at a wedding—well, not totally alone. I’ve somehow found myself at the kids table. They’re supposed to be minding their manners and eating their dinner, but between you and me, the brown-haired boy—the one who reminds me of myself—is acting like a little snot, putting ice down the dress of the girl beside him. I tell him to knock it off and his eyes get wide with fear. It’s pretty much the same way everyone has looked at me tonight. I wonder if the kids around Cedar Creek think of my house as the dark, scary, haunted house on the dead-end road. Apparently, I’ve created quite the reputation for myself.

  It’s why I’m here by myself.

  Meredith isn’t alone though. Even now, she has all of Tucker’s friends circled around her, eating out of the palm of her hand. She has a way with people. She makes them laugh and puts stars in their eyes. Two days ago, I accused her of using her charms on purpose, but now I’m not sure it isn’t just her natural effect on people. Add that to the list of things I need to apologize for.

  I push barbecue around on my plate because I can’t stomach another bite.

  I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s Daniel’s brother walking over—a nice guy I’ve hung out with once or twice. I smile and pull out a chair for him to sit.

  “Oh, actually I was just gonna ask if anyone was using the chair…”

  The troublemaking boy laughs. It’s just him and me at the table now. Seems fitting.

  “They say you’re mean as the devil.”

  “And what do you think?”

  He looks at the top of my head, in search of red horns.

  “I think it’s true.”

  “Well, you’ll find out if you keep messing with that girl who was sitting by you earlier.”

  He scowls and stomps off.

  “Oh yeah, and also if you don’t eat your vegetables!”

  I push away from the table and head for the bar. They’re serving Blue Stone wine tonight. I donated a few cases as a wedding present to Daniel, plus a fat check and a week off from work. Apparently he’s taking Leanna down to Cancun. I might treat myself to a trip there later this year; I could use a few days away from the ranch. It occurs to me in this moment that Christine tried for two years to get me to take a vacation and I turned her down every time. The thing is, I didn’t want to go away with her. Now, the feisty brunette who hates my guts? I wouldn’t mind being on a beach with her. Piña coladas, coconut bikini, tan lines…sí señora.

  I’m t
hinking about the prospect when she comes up right beside me at the bar. I haven’t spoken to her in two days and now here she is, within arm’s reach.

  I glance down at her and offer a conciliatory smile.

  She doesn’t respond.

  “You just skipped the line,” I joke, trying to coax some kind of conversation out of her.

  She ignores me, orders another sauvignon blanc, and then tells the bartender to put it on my tab.

  I smile wider. “It’s an open bar.”

  She emits a little annoyed humph then spins on her heel. Before I know what I’m doing, my hand reaches out and I catch her elbow, spinning her back around to me and gently leading her away from the bar.

  “Still upset with me?” I ask, leaning down to try to catch her blue eyes. Tonight they’re more electric than ever, alive with disdain for me.

  “Upset is putting it mildly.”

  Her voice is biting, but mine’s not.

  “Fair enough. Still, I saw you watching me during the ceremony.”

  “We were in a church, so I was waiting to see if you’d spontaneously burst into flame. I didn’t want to miss it.”

  I’m smiling, even though I know I shouldn’t be. I just can’t help it. She’s funny.

  “Dance with me.”

  Her eyes turn into two huge saucers.

  “You’re kidding.”

  I’ve never been kidding less.

  My hand releases her elbow and I hold it out palm up, waiting for her to accept it.

  “Don’t say no.”

  Not with everyone watching.

  She looks at my hand like it’s a snake.

  “I did just buy you a drink.”

  “It’s an open bar,” she points out, throwing my words back at me.

  “Yeah, but that’s Blue Stone wine.”

  She sneers at her glass and sets it down on a nearby table.

  I have no choice but to take matters into my own hands. She’s not going to accept a dance with me—and she shouldn’t—so I’ll just have to guide her toward the dance floor while she’s too stunned to turn me down.