As Matt opened the door, Scott wondered how his friend dealt with his new bride’s penchant for floral decor. Flower pictures on the wall, roses on the table, flower-print couches. And holy hell, the walls were painted pink. It explained why Matt never wanted to watch games at his house. The guys would spend the whole time cracking jokes.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Matt said, leading him past the entry and toward the main living area. “But happy wife, happy life. And she let me put double taps in her kitchen.”
“I can see how beer would help you live with this . . . this . . . What the hell do you call it? A garden? Florist’s shop?”
“And here is my beauty.” Matt held his arms out, gesturing to the wood-handled brew taps built into his kitchen cabinetry. “The kegerators are behind the cabinet doors. It’s a great setup, right?”
“It is pretty sweet, and you always said you were going to keep a keg in your house. I didn’t believe you once I met Tanya, but I’m guessing by the ‘his and hers’ carved into the taps she’s a beer girl.”
Matt’s lip curled. “Fruit beer. I think this one tastes like blueberry muffins, but she likes it, so . . .” He shrugged, then took the growler. “Do you want to taste it before I fill it?”
“Sure.” He pulled up a barstool at the granite island, amazed by how Matt enjoyed his domestication. He’d changed from a hard-partying kid who couldn’t even remember to put on deodorant to a married guy running the coolest hotel in town. People changed as they grew up. Too bad Marissa didn’t realize that.
“What’s up with your face?” Matt asked as he slid a frosty pint glass in front of Scott. “I know the beer is on the dark side, but there’s no need to be so disappointed.”
“It’s not the beer, man.” Scott lifted the cold glass and took a fortifying sip, the pine aroma of the hops mixing with the sharp bitterness of the brew. “That’s your best so far.”
“Right?” Matt took a long pull from his own glass. His eyes opened wide as he looked behind his friend.
Scott turned to see what had drawn Matt’s attention and his whole body tensed, adrenaline racing through his veins. Marissa, close enough to touch, but still so far away.
“Hi, honey.” Tanya seemed as stunned as Matt. “I didn’t know Scott was coming over.”
“I wanted him to try the Triple Twisted. I didn’t expect you back for a few more hours.”
Tanya gave a fake laugh. “The names you come up with for beer.”
Marissa didn’t say a word, frozen except for the rise and fall of her chest. Her lips curled slightly, not quite enough for a smile. She’d flattened her deep red curls to waves that tumbled over her shoulders and onto her fitted green tee, the OREGON DOES IT BETTER tagline of their college football team faded on the front. He wore the matching sweatshirt.
“Can we have a minute?” he asked, without taking his eyes off her. He’d been too blindsided to say much to Marissa when she’d ended things. In the last weeks he’d come up with a million things he wanted her to know.
“Sure thing,” Matt said, but his wife lodged a protest.
“Only if Marissa wants to talk to you.” Tanya’s voice was gentle and quiet, not her normal brash and bossy tone.
Marissa took a long, deep breath, her features schooling themselves from surprised to confident before his eyes. The girl knew how to wear a mask.
“She doesn’t have to talk,” Scott offered. “Just listen.”
“I’m a very good listener,” Marissa challenged. Her blue eyes seemed to glow with an emotion he didn’t recognize. “I’m fine, T. It has to happen.”
“What has to happen?” Scott asked after the other couple retreated upstairs.
“This conversation. We need to get this awkwardness out of the way.” Marissa walked through the kitchen and around to the other side of the island, keeping it between them.
“Why are you here?” He leaned forward, his forearms on the cool granite.
“I have a job interview tomorrow at the hotel, and on Monday at the resort where the wedding was.”
“Hold on. You’ve decided to come live here?” The heavy burden of tension weighing on his shoulders for the last few weeks eased. Had she changed her mind about him, them? If she planned on being in this town without being with him, one of them would have to leave. He’d watched her be with someone else before, and it had turned out catastrophically.
“I’m considering it, if I can land a job. I did phone interviews, and the next step is in person, but I blew it off until Tanya came up to Portland and dragged me back.”
“Seems a little hands-on for HR to chauffer prospective employees from Portland.”
“She didn’t want me to let the opportunity get away.”
“Catch me up on this. Two weeks ago you didn’t even want to come here, and all of sudden here you are. You’re actually considering moving here?” A month ago, he would have given anything to hear her say yes.
“Maybe.” She pressed her palms flat against the granite. “I think I’ve figured a few things out.”
“That’s great, sugar. Me too. I own that I made a mistake in not telling you what I knew. I’ve apologized for it, but I can’t unmake it. And I won’t sign up for a relationship where it is thrown in my face every time you get upset. I can’t believe you can reduce me to that mistake. I can’t change what I did, but I have changed. My entire perspective on life shifted that day.”
“I believe you. And you’re right. It’s not good for either one of us to hold on to the past.” She rolled her lips in and pressed them together, obviously wanting to say more.
A dozen more arguments he’d come up with halted with her words. “Okay, where does that leave us?”
She laced her hands together in front of herself. “I can’t snap my fingers and pretend that it never happened. The things I’ve gone through that made me stronger are parts of me now.”
“Okay then.” He drained the rest of his beer in a few giant gulps.
She raced around the island until she reached him. She took his hand in hers and turned him to face her. “Hold on. I know it’s not perfect, but I need us to try. I know how good it feels when it’s just you and me, and I want that. You want that too, or you would have walked out the door the moment I walked in.”
True enough. “I’ve always been clear on what I want.”
“I know you have more faith in us, but I think that’s because you fell in love with me twice, while I’m still on my first go-round. You loved me as an idealistic freshman, and maybe a bit of my adult self. I’ve only fallen in love with you as you are now.”
Damn, she liked to throw that love word around.
“I think if I come here and we start dating, that trust will build. The more time we spend together being us, replacing bad memories with good ones, what happened before will be less important to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dating. You know, dinner and a movie, a concert or wine tasting, that kind of thing. I’ll have my place and you have yours and we get to know each other.”
He shook his head and the color drained from her face. “Taking you to a movie isn’t going to give either of us what we need.”
“I need to have my own identity here or there’s no point in me moving at all. I need to be Marissa, and not Scott’s girlfriend. That kind of life doesn’t make me happy.”
“Having you move here and not be with me won’t make me happy.”
“You need to meet me halfway here. I’m getting a different job and moving to where you live. You can make the same kind of effort.”
Tanya and Matt came back into the kitchen, the new bride squeezing an arm around her friend. “Why don’t we all go out for dinner? We’ll do the pub at the hotel so we can watch the game, and then get you settled into your room for the night.”
“You’re staying at the hotel?” Scott had assumed she’d stay with Matt and Tanya.
“She has interviews starting at nine,” Tanya answered
. “Plus it’s the best way for her to experience the property.”
“I have plans. You guys have fun.” He stood and took the growler in his free hand and squeezed hers with the other. “Good luck tomorrow. Let me know how it goes.”
Releasing her hand turned his stomach, but so did her plan to put their relationship on training wheels. He had to get some distance, some space to figure out if what she was offering would come close to being enough.
17
Her heart beat fast and heavy, her eyes wide as she steered her car up the mountain. In the dark. Marissa, sweetie, you really didn’t think this one through. She couldn’t race up the mountain either, because some of the ruts in the road could swallow her whole car. Well, not really. But it sure looked like it when her high beams shadowed the road.
She focused on the road, because if she let her mind wander she’d start getting creeped out by what could be lurking in the blackness. She shuddered, but kept on, too far to turn back now. She had no idea if Scott would want to see her, or if he was even home.
Either way, she wasn’t going back down this terrifying road until daylight. She caught sight of the turnoff for his drive and tried to slow her breathing. By the time she made it to the cabin exhaustion nipped at her heels. That had to be the longest ten minutes of her life. The warm glow of the porch lights called to her. She left everything in her car and raced up the steps and pushed open the door.
She slammed it closed the second she got inside and pressed her back against it. Heat and light swirled around her as she worked to catch her breath. Her fingers tightened, curling in on themselves. Her keys clattered on the floor. The game announcer on the television sounded like he was in the room. It must still be halftime because there were a lot of voices.
“Mom, I got this,” Scott said, much too loudly.
Wait, Mom? She forced her eyes open, but nothing came into focus.
“Sugar, deep breath, okay.” Scott surrounded her and she pulled his clean forest scent into her lungs and held it there, held him. Warm and strong and steady. She let out her breath and pulled in another, holding it until her fingers relaxed. “Did something happen,” he whispered in her ear, “or is it just the dark?”
“Dark,” she managed on an exhale. The world slowly came into focus. He’d moved them into the kitchen, the small room allowing the briefest amount of privacy. And there were people here, talking in hushed tones around the corner. Her stomach pitched and it had nothing to do with a panic attack. Except she might have another because she’d thought he said “Mom.” Please let it be a Tom. Or anything but his family.
Scott cupped her face between his hands, giving her a close-up view of his gorgeous green eyes. She tried to gauge his mood, wondering if he was going toss her back outside or let her stay. She had to stay. She was not driving back down the mountain in the dark.
“Better?”
She nodded, though she wanted to sink into the floor. She had a sneaking suspicion she was about to be even more mortified than she ever thought possible. “Who’s here?” she whispered.
“My family. Apparently I seemed sad so they’re here to cheer me up.” He put on a pout and gave her puppy-dog eyes.
“I am so sorry. If I’d known they were here I would have stayed at the hotel.”
“Why are you here?” He smoothed her hair back off her face. “Besides to scare yourself half to death.”
“I didn’t want you to leave earlier. You made it sound like you were going to decide on where we go from here and you weren’t too keen on me when you left.”
“I wanted to get home before the game started so Greg wouldn’t mess with my satellite setup. I couldn’t go to dinner because I had family over, and I couldn’t exactly drag you up here. Which is why I said to call and let me know how it goes so we could get together and figure this out.”
Relief washed over her like summer sunshine. “I’d like that.”
“We do still have one problem.” She wanted to kiss that come-and-get-me grin clean off his face. “My bedroom doesn’t have doors. So you will have to keep your hands off me, or learn to be stealthy.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t possibly. Not on the day she met his parents. Oh man, she was going to meet his parents after the glowing first impression of a panic attack. “They’re going to think I’m nuts.”
“You’re their first, so they might think it’s normal. You can set the tone for Greg’s future girlfriends. No pressure.” He stepped back and took her hand, leading her out of the kitchen.
And into the rest of their lives.
Two weeks later . . .
Five more minutes. As soon as the bride tossed her white roses, Marissa could find Scott and head home. She scanned the room, white fabric covering the walls, tables, completely disguising the space. In a few hours the polished elegance of the jazz age would return, complete with art deco prints, a live brass band, and a cocktail list straight out of the roaring twenties. Working at the eclectic hotel would challenge her, but the nostalgic vibe of the place made it all worth it. So long as the staff forgave her for fabric-wrapping a lounge the day before New Year’s Eve.
A white wedding. For goodness’ sake.
Rather ironic for shotgun nuptials put together two weeks after the stick turned blue. Thanks to Jerry’s wedding vows, all in attendance knew they’d be receiving birth announcements in eight months. To her credit, Christa hadn’t killed him for broadcasting the news over a microphone to forty of their nearest and dearest. Though her father might.
The sharp tension between the bride and her parents hung around the edges of the event. If she ever decided to aisle walk, she didn’t want that kind of animosity around her.
“Dance with me.” Scott’s deep baritone wrapped around her like an embrace as he came to stand behind her. Her body heated with recognition. She reached back and took his hands in hers, pulling him around her for a hug.
“I think your feet have had enough torture for one night.” She owed him at least a dozen foot rubs. “I never realized dancing was so hard.”
“It takes practice.” He grazed her temple with a kiss. “And trust.”
“I trust you not to back me into a wall, but you ought to wear steel-toed boots if we try it again.”
“You have to trust yourself. You were fine until you started to think about what you were doing.”
His words resonated through her like a tuning fork. She was learning to trust herself, more every day. The more she found to love about Scott, the better she felt about herself for choosing him.
“I’m not getting married in a curtained room. Just putting it out there.”
“Neither am I. Not that we’re there yet.”
“Of course not.” The smile in his voice screamed Keep telling yourself that.
Sometime while they were packing up her apartment in Portland and moving her into the studio here, she’d let go of her need to stay separate. She didn’t want to be apart from him. She was moving her entire life to hold on to what they’d found together. No sense pretending to care less to maintain an upper hand in the relationship. They were pretty evenly matched, only dipping when he put things on fast forward, or when she put things on pause. Bubbles of laughter floated up; she kept her mouth closed to keep the sound in.
“What’s funny?” He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear.
“Our relationship is like a VCR.” She couldn’t say the words without smiling.
“Do they even have those anymore?”
She shrugged. “My parents do.”
“Fair enough. Why are we electronics?”
“When we’re good, we’re on play.”
“You are by far my favorite person to play with.” He pulled her earlobe between his lips for the briefest moment, then stood straight as if nothing had happened.
“The feeling is mutual.” She checked the watch on her bangle. Bouquet time and the bride was still on the dance floor. She spied the wedding planner, bouquet in
hand, talking with the DJ. How she loved working with competent people. “Anyway, you get upset when I put things on pause.”
“True.”
“And it bothers me when you press fast-forward.”
“When you know, you know.” He unwrapped his arms from around her, moving his hands to rest on her hips.
“If you know so much, just let it happen.” She sighed, hating that she brought it up at all.
“That’s what I’m doing. As long as you don’t hit stop, I’ll be fine.”
“Or rewind to keep rehashing the same stuff over and over.”
“We’re totally a VCR.” He released his hold and stepped back. She turned to find him playing with his phone.
“Really? What are you playing? That trivia app or are you going for world domination?”
“I’m buying a VCR.” He spoke without looking up from the screen.
“Of course you are.” She shook her head, doing her best not to grin.
“Do you need anything?”
She tried to think of something salacious to ask for, when his eyes widened like he’d read her mind. Two hands gripped her upper arms and her gut clenched. She nearly screamed before recognizing Taylor on one side and Amy on the other. They walked her backward as the DJ announced it was time to toss the bouquet.
“Oh no,” Marissa said, trying to wrestle free of her meddling captors.
“Oh yes.” Amy wore that maniacal smile she usually saved for assholes at a bar. “You have to. Christa asked and it’s her wedding.”
“I know, I helped her arrange it.” They lifted her almost out of her shoes as they positioned themselves among the horde. “I’m not touching the thing, but you two should pass it back and forth, volleyball style. Give the photographer a fun shot.”
“Everybody ready?” Christa called to the crowd.
Before she could get away, the bouquet came straight at her face. She put her hands up to block it, not catch it. But she came up finger deep in rose petals anyway. She collected the snide looks and congratulations as she took a picture with a too-excited Christa. She’d planned it, claiming that it was good luck for her if the woman who caught the bouquet actually got married next.
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