Walk Me Home

by Liza Kendall

  So why didn’t it feel right?

  Chapter 11

  When Charlie entered the main barn, Felicity was already there with a pair of red satin elbow-length gloves slung over her shoulder.

  Oh, good. Charlie stared forlornly at the gloves. We’ll all look like Vegas showgirls. I don’t suppose there’s anything I could say to convince her to leave them out of the wedding . . . She looked up at Bridezilla, who was fluttering around Mick as he attempted to check a wall socket, apparently second-guessing everything he said or did. Nah.

  Felicity had swept her black curls into a side ponytail and tumbled them artfully over her left shoulder. Her ruby red lips had definitely been augmented somehow since college, and with just a little more work would successfully approximate talking sofa cushions. Charlie told herself to be nicer, but the way Bridezilla had been treating Lila, Kristina, and the rest of the proprietors in town, she was rapidly depleting her stores of goodwill.

  Lila waved Jake over, and the two began to walk the periphery of the reception hall. The fire department was scheduled to do a fire-safety check because of all the extra electricity required for Felicity’s elaborate and dramatic event lighting. But Charlie had expected the crew to stay in the barn, not to barge into a glorified closet during a try-on of Felicity’s (please-oh-please-oh-please-let-it-be-over) final choice of bridesmaid dresses.

  Although come to think of it, Old George barging in on her in that dress would have been only slightly better.

  Mick glanced over while Felicity was talking and widened his eyes at Charlie. She guessed he was having a hard time with the contradiction of Felicity’s obvious physical charms juxtaposed with what was coming out of her mouth. Charlie’d known Mick well in high school, and there was something both wonderful and sad about how easy it was to just plug back into the old friendships.

  Good old Mick the Menace, high school’s most beloved practical joker. He’d been the driving force behind filling the football coach’s old Corvette with rank, sweaty gym clothes that had been collected for days beforehand.

  Mick had put on muscle and seemed to have matured since then. He’d been an eyeful and a half in his youth, and he’d only improved. Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle as she recalled that he’d set an unofficial school record for kissing girls. Well, not her. She’d always been too busy kissing Jake.

  Charlie shook her head, wishing her every thought would stop leading to Jake. Sure, they could say they were going to be friendly and not make any more “mistakes.” But she still couldn’t get their last kiss out of her mind. She just wished it hadn’t felt so right.

  Felicity snorted at something Mick said, tipped her head back to laugh, and went stone-still instead. “Oh no!” she screamed.

  Both Mick and Jake reached for their radios in the instant before they processed that this what not what they would call an emergency.

  “It doesn’t look right,” Felicity said, pointing to the swags. “Not with my new color concept. And it’s so perfumy. The guests will get a headache. We can’t give the guests a headache. And, frankly, some of the petals are starting to turn brown. So the gardenias are going to have to come down anyway. There’s still time to do roses, right? You know, real red roses.”

  Mick’s expression went south. Apparently his willingness to always give a sexy woman the benefit of the doubt just couldn’t hold up in the face of Felicity’s entitlement.

  Charlie almost laughed out loud.

  Bridezilla gazed at them expectantly, her question still hanging in the air.

  Lila appeared temporarily speechless and then finally found her voice, clipped as it was. “Yes, of course we can switch all of the gardenias in the swags out for real red roses. As long as you cover the cost of the gardenias. You did ask to have them put up earlier than advised, and that’s why they’ve started to turn. As I warned.”

  Boy, did Lila have a lot of big white teeth when she gritted them in that particular way, drawing her lips back until they almost nudged her ears. Charlie’d never noticed how sharp Lila’s incisors were. Then again, she’d never seen that . . . almost carnivorous . . . look on her face.

  The bride-to-be made a face at the idea of paying twice but then shrugged.

  From behind Felicity, Jake winked at his sister and gave her a thumbs-up.

  Charlie liked seeing that. At least Jake and Lila were starting to behave like brother and sister again.

  “Then do it,” Felicity said.

  “Of course,” Lila said after a tiny pause. She did not look up at all the gardenia-festooned swags that they’d hung already.

  Charlie carefully didn’t look up at them, either. But Jake did, his eyes twinkling with brotherly malice. It was oddly endearing.

  Lila scratched subtly at her nose with her middle finger.

  “But are you sure you want to use real roses, Felicity?” she said. “Because if so, the swags”—Lila gestured at them—“will have to be redone on Friday and then stored overnight somewhere. Maybe in Ray the butcher’s meat locker—ha ha!—since I don’t think Maggie has the refrigeration space for such big items at Petal Pushers.”

  “Ray Delgado would love to store a bunch of wreaths on his meat hooks,” Mick assured them all in a dry tone. “I’m sure he’d be very accommodating.”

  Felicity missed the sarcasm, but Jake punched Mick lightly in the shoulder, as if to tell him to shut up. Charlie’s lips twitched.

  “Or,” Lila continued, aiming a death stare at Mick, “the flowers would have to be wired onto the swags really, really early on Saturday, before Maggie opens, and then we’d need to rehang them all. So maybe we can use silk ones? It’s more practical, and though it’s still extra work, it doesn’t throw us into emergency mode.”

  Any more than we already are, Charlie thought. But those words remained unspoken.

  Felicity’s phone rang. She put up a ruby-manicured finger to indicate that silence was required. She held her bedazzled cell phone to her diamond-studded ear. “Hello, Amelie.” Her pillowy lips flattened. “I think we have a misunderstanding about the alterations on the gown. Since you refused to give me a refund on it, I honestly thought you’d modify it for free. I mean, how hard is it, really, to shorten the thing into a summer cocktail dress?”

  Charlie, her smile still painted on, exchanged a look with Lila, who seemed to be strangling a growl. And Felicity’s tone was not going to do her any favors with the long-suffering Amelie.

  Jake’s eyebrows shot up, and Mick frowned.

  “Yes, I know it was custom work,” Bridezilla said. “Yes, I know I approved the sketches and signed your order form. Yes, I do know you have other customers—not for long, when I put the details of my experience on Yelp, but—excuse me? You don’t know how to make me happy? I just explained it to you very clearly, Amelie. Shorten the dress for me! Right away, so I can take it on our honeymoon cruise. Honestly, I can’t keep laying out more cash on gowns. My father is going to draw the line.”

  Daddy should probably have drawn a line back, say, when Bridezilla was a toddler. But clearly, he hadn’t.

  In the background, Jake began to whistle softly, a sure sign that he was irritated. He’d done it back in high school. Funny how Charlie remembered that.

  “Split the difference for the alterations? That’s the best you can do?” Felicity snapped. “Really? You know what, fine. I don’t know what is wrong with the people in this town, but they are just not bride-friendly. I don’t have any more time to haggle with you.” She ended the call and gave a dramatic sigh. “I am so tempted to elope.”

  Hope dawned in Lila’s eyes, but Charlie knew better.

  “But poor Will,” Bridezilla said, “would just die. It’s always been his dream to get married in this Podunk town—”

  “Podunk?” repeated Mick. “Don’t you mean, say, picturesque?”

  “Uh, no offense.” Felicity wa
ved a hand, as if it would erase her words or the insult behind them.

  Charlie looked down at the floor. Careful, Bridezilla, or you might “just die,” too.

  Mick moved away to test another wall socket.

  “So what were you saying about silk roses and butchers, Lila?” Bridezilla asked, her perfect silky black eyebrows drawing together in a frown, which she quickly smoothed away. “No. Look, I’ve decided that I don’t care for the iridescence of silk. I want the velvety, natural look of real flowers.”

  “Well, these particular flowers are going to be ten feet above the heads of the guests,” Lila pointed out. “So I’m not sure anyone will see their texture.”

  “The overhead lighting will shine on it,” Felicity insisted.

  “But we’ll have those overheads turned off. We’re doing the sconces only, right? And the can lights in the potted trees around the dance floor. Then the spotlights and the twinkle lights everywhere outside. That’s what we talked about.”

  Bridezilla chewed on her artificially plump bottom lip. “Yes, but . . . I want real roses. There’s nothing like the scent of fresh flowers.”

  Unless they are too scented. Like gardenias.

  Charlie watched Lila close her eyes and then make a note in the wedding file. Then Lila tried one more time. “Well, again . . . remember that these particular flowers will be ten feet overhead. We can use fresh ones for your bouquet and the church pews and the centerpieces on the tables.”

  Felicity shook her head. “They all have to match exactly. And some of those silk ones look so cheap.”

  Jake laughed silently behind her, which was, unfortunately, infectious. Charlie did her best to shove a giggle back down her own throat. She absolutely could not laugh—or growl—at the bride. She told herself to be understanding. Ugh. Felicity is just a nervous girl at heart, trying to choreograph her big day.

  “All right,” Lila said, “let’s check with Maggie right away and see what she can do.”

  The barn door creaked and then slammed, and none other than Declan Braddock walked into the barn, clearly surprised to see Jake. “Jake,” he said, shaking hands with his brother. “Twice in one week. But then . . . I heard you were part of the wedding.” He looked at Charlie, his face impassive.

  Shame burned her cheeks. He’d been aloof since the fallout after the fire. Since the Nashes had cut off his brother. Go figure.

  He hesitated, then surprised her. “Welcome back to town, Charlie,” he said, holding out his hand.

  You’re a good man, Declan. “Thanks,” she said. She shook hands and forced herself to look into his impenetrable dark eyes.

  But he’d already turned back to Jake. “Usually we do this with George. We square on the safety check? If there’s anything we need to do, I’m on it.”

  “Oh, Lila . . . Lila!” Felicity was frantically waving from the other side of the barn.

  Lila didn’t seem to hear her. A glazed expression on her face, Lila didn’t seem to hear anything.

  Charlie tapped Mick on the shoulder and, when he bent down, whispered in his ear, “Can you keep Bridezilla busy for second?”

  Mick sighed and whispered, “This would be a lot more fun if she hadn’t started talking.”

  But he took Felicity aside, and when he had her occupied, making a discussion about wattage overload sound as sexy as anyone could make it, Charlie pulled Lila away from her brothers.

  “I know she’s starting to get to you, and I don’t blame you, but you look like you’re one tube of frosting away from slamming a wedding cake in her face.”

  Lila took a deep breath and looked down for a minute. When she lifted her gaze again, Charlie saw a storm under the surface. She wondered if Lila was going to tell one of her brothers that the reason for the dark dusting under her slightly puffy eyes wasn’t just about Felicity’s endless requests. But then she figured Lila didn’t want anybody getting arrested. She had to know that in spite of everything, Jake and Declan would—at a minimum—punch the lights out of any man who hurt their sister after they finished hanging the moon for her.

  And Lila was apparently steering well clear of her personal issues, because she was all business when she answered. “I got a call yesterday that the Knot is interested in photographing a ranch wedding for a feature. And this one—if we ever get the details nailed down—is perfect, if they can send a photographer on such short notice. This is such an opportunity, but if Felicity doesn’t stop messing around, I won’t get to take care of the little things. And it’s the little things, the things you can’t even see, the things only I would know about, that will make this shine for the magazine. Imagine how many bookings I could get out of it!”

  Charlie imagined the bookings—and then she also imagined how much Declan would hate them. “Poor Declan,” she said with a small laugh.

  “Poor Declan? Are you kidding? He’s done amazing things with this land, but my events keep the money rolling in. He keeps building. Reinvesting, he calls it . . .” Lila turned to look at her brothers. “Well, look at that,” she said softly. “Jake and Declan together. Jake never comes out to the ranch for the safety stuff on my events. This is really cool.”

  Charlie hesitated for a moment and then finally asked a question she’d been thinking about for years. “Do you ever blame me?” Charlie asked. “You’ve never said you did. But you could have blocked me out, just like I did Jake.”

  “You were in an impossible position, and you know I get it. I don’t understand everything that happened. I don’t understand why your family blamed Jake like that, because, Charlie, he loved you and he’d never have hurt you or your family. Never. But I know how your parents were and I know how it was for you, and I just get it. And . . . I didn’t want to lose your friendship, either. I didn’t grow up with a mother, much less a sister.”

  Charlie, he loved you. Charlie had to take a deep breath to save herself from getting swamped by emotions. We were kids. He loved me then. Now we’re adults. He doesn’t love me now. “Jake doesn’t get it,” she muttered.

  “In all fairness, Jake was jerked around a lot,” Lila said. “He thought you Nashes were his forever family, and then you all abandoned him. And that just left us even more broken . . .” She swallowed hard. “Declan wanted nothing more than to keep our family together, and to be honest, your family stopped that from happening. Your parents took in Jake and broke the Braddocks even further apart than we were, only to spit him out at the first big test of loyalty.”

  “You won that test, Lila,” Charlie said softly.

  Lila looked at Jake. “At a cost, pal. A cost we’re still paying.” She gave Charlie a hug. “But I love you, girl. And I’m glad we stayed friends.”

  A big smile was back on Lila’s face, but Charlie could tell she was still off her game. The way her friend’s sad eyes tracked her brothers at the far end of the barn proved it. I’ve got to remember that. Lila always looks like she’s ready to take on the world; I can’t forget she’s as human as the rest of us.

  “Hey, ladies!” Mick called. “I think that’s everything.” He had a familiar look on his face. One Charlie remembered from high school. The one that said, Been there, done that, save me. “You ready, Jake?”

  Jake was staring across the barn.

  “Something we missed?” Mick asked.

  Charlie couldn’t be sure, but she thought Jake said “I wish” under his breath.

  Everyone followed his gaze, becoming equally riveted on the scarlet lace flamenco dress and matching mantilla Felicity had told Charlie about earlier this morning. It currently hung on a hook, partially obscured by a beam until you turned just the right way. Underneath it was a box containing a pair of Jimmy Choos, no less. It was Bridezilla’s third wedding ensemble. Amelie must be furious.

  “I almost forgot!” Felicity cried. “The gloves!”

  Lila took a deep breath and exh
aled slowly and noisily.

  Felicity pulled the satin bridesmaid gloves from her shoulder and held them up in her outstretched hands. And she was worried about silk roses being shiny? Those things were going to glow in the dark. “Charlie, my dress is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Very.” No lie: It truly was.

  “Unusual,” Felicity said. “Original, right, guys?”

  “That it is,” Mick offered.

  “Absolutely,” said Jake.

  “And the bridesmaid gloves . . . they match. Do you think they match? I can’t tell if they’re a shade off. They’re very close . . . but do they match?”

  “The dress is red, and the gloves are red,” Mick said encouragingly. “Everything’s . . . red.”

  “You’re saying they match, then? That’s what you’re saying,” Felicity said.

  Mick nodded up and down and sideways. “Um . . . yeah. Red . . . and red.”

  Yes. Charlie nodded. Satanic red.

  Declan cleared his throat. “I need to get back to work. Congratulations again, Felicity. Excuse me.”

  If Felicity noticed the speed with which Declan got himself out of there, she didn’t let on. She was busy running her palm over the ruby red creation. “I adore it.”

  “Well, that’s the most important thing,” Lila said.

  Bridezilla smiled and looked at Charlie. “So,” said the Nuptial Nightmare, “I think you should put the bridesmaid dress back on with the gloves this time, and see how it all looks next to my new gown.”

  “No!” cried Jake, Charlie, and Mick in unison.

  Into the awkward silence, Jake cleared his throat and said, “We forgot to, uh, look at the hose . . . nozzle . . . attachment . . . thing . . .” He steered Felicity to the wall where the fire extinguishers hung, with Mick trailing behind, his shoulders heaving with suppressed laughter.

  Lila looked at Charlie, her eyes wide. “What the . . . ?”

  “You should have seen it. No, I mean, nobody should have seen it. She asked me to try the bridesmaid dress on, and what could I do? Oh God. I can’t believe Jake saw me in it . . .” Charlie put her hands over her face and took a deep breath. “I realize that as a bridesmaid, it’s my sworn duty to look bad so that the bride looks even lovelier. But this? Lila, there are no words.”