You Were Mine

by Abbi Glines

  I glanced back at Tripp to make sure he saw Woods. “I think the best man is being summoned,” I told him.

  Tripp had a similar frown directed at Woods. “Yeah, I see that. I’ll be right back,” he said as he walked over to the bridal table.

  Seeing Tripp standing by Woods at the rehearsal had been somewhat difficult. That would have been Jace standing there. Woods and Jace had been best friends since childhood. But Jace was gone, and Tripp was his stand-in. He symbolized the cousin who couldn’t be here.

  “An Betty!” called a familiar voice. I looked down just as Nate ran up to me and clambered into the chair beside me. “I sit by you,” he informed me matter-of-factly.

  “It’s the only way we could get him to give the drummer his sticks back,” Blaire said with an exasperated look.

  “I got the bastard the gig. Least he could do was give my boy the damn sticks,” Dean Finlay complained as he sauntered up to the table beside Rush.

  “He tried to give him his extras,” Blaire told Dean. I was beginning to think her exasperation came from dealing with her father-in-law and not her toddler.

  “Stingy fucker,” Dean muttered, pulling out the chair on the other side of Rush.

  “Yeah, futter.” Nate mimicked his grandfather. Blaire looked horrified.

  “Dad. Language,” Rush warned, then leaned over his wife and snapped his fingers at Nate to get his attention. “Remember what I told you about Papa’s words. Mommy gets upset when you say them. We don’t like upsetting Mommy, do we?”

  Nate looked guilty and shook his head no.

  “Apologize to Mommy and Aunt Bethy. Men don’t say those words around ladies,” Rush instructed him.

  I had to bite back a smile. I’d heard Rush Finlay say a lot worse around women in my life. Hearing him tell his son not to was just too funny.

  “I sowwy, Mommy,” Nate mumbled, looking truly upset. Then he turned his daddy’s silver eyes to me and repeated his apology.

  “I didn’t raise you to be a pus—”

  “Dad.” Rush cut his father off before he could finish his sentence. “You’re upsetting Blaire. Stop it.”

  Dean chuckled and leaned back in his chair with an amused expression. “Good thing I like the pretty girl you married. I’ll be good for her.”

  Rush leaned over to say something to Blaire, and she squeezed his arm to assure him that she was fine.

  She looked at me and sighed heavily, then let out a soft laugh. “Life with a rock star as your kid’s grandfather. Always interesting.”

  The chair beside me was pulled out, and I turned, expecting to see Tripp, but Thad’s perfect white smile flashed at me. “What’s up?” he said, giving us all a nod. “There’s some really nice servers around this place,” he said as he scooted his chair in. The lipstick mark on his neck made me giggle. I reached for a napkin.

  “I can see that. She left some of her friendliness on your neck in candy-apple red. Come here.”

  A crooked grin tugged at his lips as he leaned over so I could wipe his neck clean. “You should see the friendliness I left on her,” he whispered. At least he was observant of Nate’s little ears.

  “Was it the blonde or the brunette with the tight curls and big ti—”

  “Dad!” Rush snarled, stopping Dean before he could finish that sentence, too.

  Thad’s grin only got bigger. “The blonde,” he clarified.

  Dean gave him a smirk. “Try the brunette next. She leaves her friendliness in much better places.”

  Gross. So not what I wanted to know.

  “I swear to God, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to throw your old ass out of here,” Rush warned his father.

  Dean laughed and gave a shrug that had this badass rocker casualness to it. “Easy, boy,” he told Rush, and patted his leg.

  “OK, you two. Let’s have fun,” Blaire told them as Nate climbed into her lap.

  Unable to help myself, I glanced over at the table Tripp was now seated at. He was talking to some female sitting beside him whom I didn’t know. She hadn’t been at the rehearsal, and she wasn’t in the wedding party. The woman laughed at something Tripp said, and something in my stomach tightened up.

  I would not acknowledge the feeling. I had no reason to care that Tripp was making some woman laugh. Even if she had really fabulous hair. It was golden and hung in long waves down her back. Who was she?

  “Guess you haven’t met Braden’s cousin Charity,” Blaire said, snapping me out of my obvious staring.

  “No, I haven’t,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Charity just went through an ugly divorce last year, and Braden wanted to bring her to get her away from things. Thad and you were matched up for the dinners and the wedding. To make things even, Della thought it would be nice to have someone for Tripp so he wasn’t the odd one out.”

  A wedding date. Della had supplied Tripp with a wedding date. That wasn’t my business. I didn’t care. Really. I didn’t.

  “Sweet,” Thad said, putting his arm on the back of my chair and leaning back as he rested his ankle on his knee. “Bethy’s my wedding date. Why didn’t someone tell me? I’d never have run off with the blonde.”

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced back at Thad. “Because I’m not that friendly.”

  He nodded. “True, but I figure I can get a few drinks in you and loosen you up.”

  He was teasing me. I shook my head and reached for the glass of champagne that had been placed in front of me. “There isn’t enough alcohol in the world, Thad,” I informed him.

  He slapped a hand over his heart. “Ouch. That’s painful.”

  Taking a sip, I took one last glance at Tripp and Charity. Their heads were closer together now as they chatted away.

  Awesome.

  Tripp

  This was not how I’d foreseen my night going. I couldn’t believe Della had provided a date for the weekend. Why would she think I wanted that? Did I look like I needed a fucking date? Hell no.

  Charity was attractive. I’d give Della that much—she had good taste. But I wasn’t looking. I listened as Charity told me about the golden retriever puppy she’d just bought getting kicked out of doggy school for trying to hump a poodle. She laughed as she told me the story. If I weren’t in love with Bethy, I’d be totally into her. She had a good laugh. Her brown eyes danced with amusement.

  Woods had forced me to sit when I’d tried to tell him I was switching with Thad. He’d whispered in my ear what I already knew about Charity. “She’s Braden’s cousin, and she’s had a bad divorce. She needs some attention. Do this for Della.” His tone meant it wasn’t a request.

  I had sat reluctantly, glancing back at Bethy, who was once again being entertained by Nate. The kid knew a good-looking woman when he saw one. Thad’s sorry ass would get to be with Bethy tonight. He’d get to talk to her. Hear her laugh. He’d tell her stupid jokes that I knew she’d be amused by. Thad was good at charming females.

  Damn player.

  With his stupid pretty-boy looks.

  I should have broken his nose years ago and evened the playing field. If I saw him touch Bethy tonight, I’d do more than break his nose.

  I took a quick peek and saw Bethy listening to Dean Finlay. She seemed amused. At least it was the old man making her smile. Not Thad. Wait . . . No. Dean Finlay slept with women younger than me all the time. Maybe this wasn’t good. He was a fucking rock god. Shit.

  “Stop looking at Bethy like she’s your last meal, dammit,” Woods growled in a low voice beside me.

  I turned my attention back to my table and glared at him. He met my angry glare with his own. Della cleared her throat loudly enough to get the attention of both of us. I let Woods deal with his woman as I reached for my drink. I needed something more than pink fucking bubbles.

  “Do you surf, too?” Charity asked beside me.

  Were we talking about surfing now? Shit, I didn’t know. I was so checked out of this conversation. Focusing was an issue, with Dean
Finlay and Thad both flirting with Bethy.

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, I did back in the day. I haven’t in a while. We don’t get the waves in the Gulf to make it really worth it.”

  “Didn’t you live in Myrtle Beach for a while?” she asked.

  Had I told her that? “Yeah, I did. It was short-lived,” I replied.

  I looked over at Della, who was watching me with her bottom lip between her teeth. She was concerned. I knew that look. I’d spent a lot of time with Della back when she and Woods were figuring things out. When you spend two solid weeks on the road with someone, you get to know each other well.

  I was being selfish. This was her wedding weekend, and I was worried about me. I forced myself to relax and turned my attention back to Charity. I could do this. Bethy wasn’t going to hook up with Thad or Dean. I knew better than that. My stupid jealousy was rattling my brain.

  “Why? Do you surf?” I asked Charity, hoping she hadn’t already said she did.

  She laughed and shook her head. “No. I’m extremely uncoordinated. But if you wanted to give me lessons, I wouldn’t turn them down.”

  Oh, hell. I’d walked right into that one. I cut my eyes at Della, who was listening with a nervous expression. “Sure. I can do that if you want,” I agreed, hoping I never saw her again after we left the island on Sunday.

  Charity looked giddy with delight. “Yes, I’d love to!”

  “Good idea. Why don’t you take her out in the morning for a lesson?” Woods said.

  I opened my mouth to spout some bullshit excuse for why that wasn’t happening. But Charity clapped her hands and beamed at me. “Oh, how exciting!”

  Well, shit.

  I danced with Charity twice before I was able to extract myself to find Bethy, but she wasn’t at her table or on the dance floor. Scanning the crowd and tables, I didn’t see her anywhere. Then I looked for Thad and realized he was missing, too.

  What the hell?

  I started moving for the door. I wasn’t explaining my exit to Woods. He’d do something else to screw it up. I had done my job all during dinner, and then I’d danced with Charity. Not to mention that I had to take her surfing in the morning. I was done with my goodwill for the evening.

  I stalked out of the building and across the sand, keeping my eyes open for a sign of Bethy.

  A giggle stopped me, and I turned to walk around the building and into a small thicket of palm trees.

  “Got a famous mouth, now, don’t you,” Thad teased, and I tensed up. I followed the rumble of his voice as he made a groan. “Fuck, yes, take it all the way in. Back of your throat, baby,” he encouraged.

  I stopped. There was no fucking way that was Bethy. She wouldn’t be sucking him off. The clouds shifted, and the moon lit up my surroundings. Thad’s eyes lifted from the girl knelt between his legs to meet mine.

  He put his finger over his mouth to silence me. He didn’t want an interruption. The girl had brown curly hair and had on one of the uniforms the servers were wearing. It wasn’t Bethy. Thank fuck.

  I turned and walked back toward the path leading to our huts.

  “Oh, shit! Swallow the head. Yeah, God, yes!” Thad cried out.

  I walked faster. I didn’t want to hear him get off. But if he didn’t keep it down, the whole damn island was going to hear him.

  Bethy

  I slipped my heels off and walked back out to curl up on the lounger and look out over the water. After watching Tripp dance with Charity for half a song, I’d realized I really needed to leave. It bothered me. Not that I should be surprised. I had been jealous of Della, too, back when I thought Tripp had a thing for her. I’d had Jace then, and I had no right to be jealous, but with Tripp, I didn’t seem to have control over my emotions.

  Which sucked.

  Being friends with him was my way of calling a truce. Finding a common ground so I could focus on living again instead of living with so much guilt and hate. Watching Tripp with other women, however, wasn’t part of the deal. Once this weekend was over, I would smile at Tripp when I saw him and keep it casual. No reason to be close friends.

  Although I wondered if this meant he wouldn’t follow me to and from work anymore. Would I miss him sitting outside my apartment staring at my window for hours?

  Yes.

  That sucked, too. As much as I told myself I hated him for following me and sitting outside my apartment, the truth was, I was mad at myself for wanting it. For expecting it.

  All these frustrated emotions weren’t things I’d had to deal with in my relationship with Jace. I’d been secure and safe. The drama and pent-up emotions I always experienced with Tripp had never been there with Jace. It had just been easier.

  So what if Tripp was with Charity tonight? It wasn’t like I was ever going to be more than his friend. Seeing him made my heart speed up, and when he smiled, my stomach did a little fluttery thing. It always had. But that wasn’t enough. With Tripp came so much pain. I didn’t want that pain. I was closing the door on it and moving on.

  “You checked out early.” Tripp’s voice startled me, and I jumped. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, smiling at my reaction.

  He didn’t need to be here right now. Why wasn’t he with the blonde? Far away from me and my screwed-up thoughts. “It’s been a long day,” I replied simply.

  His hands were in his pockets, and he had unbuttoned the top of his white shirt and rolled up the sleeves, revealing a peep of the tattoos that colored his arms. He stood with his legs slightly apart as he studied me. He was so dang tall.

  “Want company?” he asked, looking at the space beside me.

  No. Yes. Crap.

  I shrugged instead of answering, since I didn’t have a definite answer.

  He took that as an affirmative and sat down on the lounger. There was enough space for two, but it was a small space, which meant his long legs stretched out in front of him and touched mine. He crossed them at the ankles and leaned back.

  “It’s peaceful here,” he said in a reverent tone.

  I nodded. I wasn’t much for talking. Until yesterday, I had him in my “hate you” box. It had been all I allowed myself to feel where he was concerned. Now that I had taken him out, I didn’t know where to put him. Preferably in a box that didn’t allow me to care that he was with other females.

  “Not now, because I realize I’m on really fragile ground with you, but one day, when you’re ready, I want a chance to explain what happened eight years ago.”

  Not what I had expected him to say. I thought we were going to pretend that didn’t happen and move on with our lives. “What’s past is past. Let’s leave it where it belongs,” I said, not looking at him. My hands fisted firmly in my lap as a wave of emotions washed over me at once. The heartache, loss, fear, and intense love I’d pushed away. I didn’t want it.

  “I’d agree with you if you actually knew the past. But you don’t. Just like there are things I don’t know. Things I want to know, even if it’s going to rip me open. I need to know, Bethy. For us both to find a way to heal, we have to deal with the past first.”

  He was right. But I wasn’t ready. Our past was what would define the rest of my life. He had molded me into who I was. Our relationship had been the source of my greatest regrets and mistakes. “I’m not ready,” I said quietly.

  He didn’t reply, and I almost expected him to get up and leave. But after a few moments, his hand moved over and covered mine. The warmth and size of it engulfed my hand, and I would be a liar if I said it wasn’t comforting. With that one small gesture, I was reminded that I wasn’t alone in this. He understood more than anyone else what I was dealing with.

  The night grew darker, and the silence wrapped around us like a cocoon. A place where the past seemed distant and the future was unknown.

  Tripp

  Teaching a woman how to surf, when she was making it very clear that she wanted me in her bed, was uncomfortable. I knew I had my hands full with each flirty remark that came out
of Charity’s mouth. The fact she’d been through a bad divorce and needed male attention made me feel sorry for her. But that didn’t mean I was going to be the guy to give her that attention. Not after Bethy had let me sit with her for more than an hour last night and hold her hand. We hadn’t talked much, but just being there with her had been enough for me. It was progress.

  Charity giggled at her last attempt to crawl onto the board, then turned to me and batted her eyelashes. “Help,” she said.

  That was another thing. She kept wanting me to put her on the damn board, and she wasn’t wearing much of a bikini. Too much skin contact.

  “Try it by yourself this time,” I instructed her, not wanting to grab her waist again. She shivered every time I touched her, and I felt guilty. I didn’t want her thinking this was going anywhere. I wasn’t her wedding fuck. Unfortunately, she hadn’t figured that out yet.

  “I like it better when you help me,” she said, dropping her voice down a notch to what I was sure would be a sexy sound to most men.

  We had been at it for an hour. I’d done my duty. It was time to put an end to the ideas running through her head. “Yeah, well, I’m beat. We both have a wedding to get ready for this afternoon and a long night of celebrating ahead. Probably shouldn’t overdo it.”

  With that excuse, I slipped the board under my arm and nodded for her to follow me before walking back to the shore.

  “Oh, OK,” she called out behind me, and hurried to catch up.

  I didn’t give her reason to think I wanted to prolong this; I just kept walking.

  “Uh, so did you eat breakfast already?” she asked, catching up to me quickly.

  I had only grabbed a cup of coffee before heading out, but eating with her wasn’t happening, either. She was getting too bold. “Not a breakfast eater,” I replied, which was a lie. After being out in the waves, I was starving.

  “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you later?” she asked as we finally made it to shore.