View With Your Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 5)

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Your name is Gavin?” I turn to Gee and feel Britton’s eyes on me from where she leans against the doorjamb. Slowly, she straightens.

  Gee shrugs, unwilling to remove his eyes from the screen. “Yeah, isn’t it cool we have the same name? Everyone always calls me Gee, though.” His focus doesn’t stray from the game where military men follow each other through the jungle. However, I look at Britton, questioning the name choice.

  “No more than thirty minutes,” Britton warns her son and steps away from his room.

  “Night, little man,” I say, ruffling the hair on his head, which jostles the headset. He restores it without a glance at me but waves to acknowledge what I’ve said. Stepping into the short hall, I find Britton waiting for me, her back against the wall.

  “Gavin, I can explain.”

  “Fuck, Brit. You gave him my name?” I stare at her, incredulous as I swipe a hand through my hair.

  “I just—”

  “I’m fucking honored.” Pride fills my chest as I beam at her, cupping her cheek and crushing my lips to her. I kiss her as my chest puffs with the tribute until a thought occurs, and I pull back. “What did Patrick think of that?”

  Britton nervously swipes back at her hair, holding her hand at the side of her neck. She hasn’t moved from the wall, and her eyes lower to my chest.

  “Well, he didn’t have much of a say, but it’s one reason we call him Gee. He’s really never been called his given name except at formal school functions.”

  Still in a haze of appreciation, I smile. “Wow.” It’s so sweet of her, although I can imagine it was a sore spot for her husband.

  While I want nothing more than to take her to her room and honor the hell out of her, I can’t. With Gee home and the wedding tomorrow, I should leave. I’ll never sleep tonight, but I should go.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, but a question lingers as Britton doesn’t look up at me. I curl my fingers under her chin, forcing her eyes up.

  “I’ll be there.” Something I can’t read fills those blue orbs, but I assume it’s fear. We only have so much time remaining together. We haven’t talked further than tomorrow, and I leave Sunday, but I want to talk. After the wedding, I tell myself. I’m going to lay it out and tell her I want to see her again. I want to be in her life somehow. I want her in mine.

  I don’t know how it will work. I can travel back and forth between here and California. She can come to visit me, maybe for a long weekend, or during Gee’s school breaks. Fuck, I don’t know. I just know I need her in my life. I won’t let her slip away again.

  + + +

  On Saturday afternoon, the men meet at the Carters’ family home.

  “What the fuck?” Jess grumbles, looking down at his phone as he stomps up the staircase to the second floor as I’m entering the house I practically grew up in as much as my own. Located two blocks from Main Street, it’s ironically on the same block as the house Emily inherited from her grandmother.

  “What’s up with him? Getting cold feet?” I ask his mother, who greets me as Jess ignored my entrance.

  “He’s fine,” the matriarch of their family states, dismissively waving a hand before I give her a hug. Mary then leads me deeper into the house. Jess and Pam Carter get their cornstalk blond hair and denim blue eyes from their mother. She’s a local nurse and what people consider good people. She’s one of the best second mothers.

  “He’s crabby because he didn’t get to sleep with Emily last night,” Leon states from the dining room as we enter it. “With the wedding being at five, it’s been a long ass day for him.”

  Leon makes an apologetic face. “Sorry, Mary.”

  Jess’s mother just shakes her head. “You boys make yourself at home. Lunch will be here soon.” Mary’s serving us sandwiches and such with minimal alcohol. She is adamant that no one shows up at the wedding hammered. Part of her caution might be her personal experience with a drunk driver who killed her husband a few years back. It was a difficult time for Jess, and it reminds me I haven’t been the best of friends. I didn’t make it to the funeral.

  Jess’s groom’s party includes his brother, Leon, Ethan, and me, although Jacob is present at the house. We hang out, just shooting the shit, sharing stories, and learning more about each other. Or at least, I learn more about them. Leon’s had a hard life while Jacob’s had a privileged upbringing, but hints at it being not so great. It makes me feel fortunate I’m more in the middle with a history of typical teenage angst and disagreements with my parents, but nothing as extreme as these additions to the family.

  Family. I have such an overwhelming sense of it today, with the wedding bringing us all back together. I’d seen my parents again at the rehearsal dinner, and Mum looked even worse than a week ago. Karyn told me I was overreacting when I didn’t have a right to react. She’d been living with my mother’s cancer day in and day out for the last year, handling things like she always did as the oldest sibling and with her bossy personality. I hadn’t spent as much time with my parents as I should have, but I have seen them more in the last two weeks than in the past decade.

  “I think we need to know where Gavin disappeared to the other night,” Tom teases me.

  “We covered this during the rehearsal dinner,” I reply, recalling all the intrigue at my disappearance with Britton during the Thursday night bar crashing.

  “Yes, but we need details.” Tom wiggles his brows.

  “How do you know her again?” Leon asks.

  “Fell in love with her one summer when we were kids,” I admit.

  “And then spent a weekend together when he was older banging her in a hotel room,” Ethan adds, giving away my secrets.

  “Dude, don’t be an ass.”

  “They fucked like rabbits,” Ethan continues, telling the guys at the table like he’s some high school chick spreading a rumor.

  “We did not,” I defend.

  “Well, you snuck out of the house enough when we were teens. I feel sorry for you if you weren’t getting laid all those nights,” Ethan teases.

  “It’s not all about sex,” I tell him, although the last few nights it’s all I’ve had on my mind, wondering how I’ll get on a plane for California tomorrow, leaving Britton behind.

  “I know,” Ethan sighs, looking over the table, with a suddenly sheepish grin.

  “When you gettin’ married?” I tease him as he’s engaged without a set date.

  “Soon.”

  “Vague much,” Jacob teases.

  “Well, what about you?” Ethan pokes at his future brother-in-law.

  “We have the baby coming first.” Jacob’s got a hard edge to his face, but his expression brightens at the mention of the baby. I’ve been told he’s a changed man with Pam at his side.

  “Wait, when was this banging weekend?” Tom asks, returning to my sex life with Britton.

  “About thirteen years ago,” I say, admitting my own guilt.

  Tom chuckles, but slowly, his brows crease. “Thirteen years ago, you say?”

  “What was thirteen years ago?” Jess interjects, finally joining his own party.

  “The last time Gavin had sex with Britton,” Leon explains, and I shake my head. When did I become the focus of this day?

  “He probably had sex with her last night, so it hasn’t been that long,” Jess says, scowling at me as he warned me to stay away from her.

  “We did not have sex last night,” I proudly state.

  “No, it was two nights ago,” Jacob throws in, and I shake my head again.

  “Busted,” Ethan teases as my face heats, and I swipe a hand through my hair.

  “Isn’t today supposed to be about Jess?” I nod to face my friend standing near the dining room table.

  “Don’t talk to me about sex. I wasn’t allowed to get any yesterday.”

  “Aw, you big baby,” Tom teases of his younger brother.

  “You’re just jealous that I’m getting any,” Jess mocks of his brother.

 
“Damn right, I am,” Tom mutters, lifting his beer for his mouth, and Ethan and I catch eyes across the table, wondering if everything is okay between our sister and her husband.

  Eventually, the time comes for us to get dressed, and we pair off into rooms on the upper level of the Carter house. As Jess had been married before, initially, he didn’t want to wear a tux, and apparently, this had been an issue. However, this wasn’t Emily second marriage, so Jess acquiesced, wanting everything on this day to be perfect for her.

  In Pam and Tricia’s old bedroom, Ethan and I stare at our reflections in the mirror. We wear matching black tuxedos. We both have wild wavy hair, but while Ethan’s is a little out of control, mine is styled and gelled back, cut shorter on the sides to keep it tame. We match in stature with broad shoulders and our tall height, but our eyes have a slight variation of brown. While Ethan’s are a bit lighter, mine are dark, and something is familiar with my own eyes. For a moment, it’s like I’m seeing myself for the first time, which is ridiculous.

  “It will happen for you one day, G,” Ethan says to me, misreading my expression and startling me with the use of my nickname from when I was a kid. I’m reminded of learning last night that Britton’s son Gee is actually named Gavin.

  “I know,” I lie, feeling as if falling in love, staying in love, and getting married are outside my reach despite the strong emotions revived by spending time with Britton.

  Between Ethan’s calling me by my nickname and thoughts of Gee, I take a second look at myself in the mirror, hesitating at what I see. Something is puzzling me that I can’t quite put my finger on. Like knowing you forgot something from a grocery list or entering a room to forget what you’re doing in there. When Ethan claps my back and says it’s time to leave, I shake off my thoughts as nerves about the wedding.

  + + +

  I don’t see Britton as we seat people within the barn. The place is decked out with white folding chairs facing the wide, double barn doors. The doors are open, and the hope is to capture the lowering sun while Jess and Emily exchange vows. The orchard is a close background while the lake glitters off in the distance. I haven’t been inside the barn since that summer with Britton, and it’s a bit surreal to see it all prettied up with new reinforcements, heat and electricity, and the splash of white in chairs, linen-covered tables, and strings of white lights over the entire space.

  Asked to step off to the side, we line up to meet the bridesmaids, and I finally see Britton has been seated with Gee beside her. He’s all spiffed up with a suitcoat and bowtie. Britton looks beautiful with her hair down in loose curls and pinned back at the sides. She’s wearing a bright blue dress which matches her eyes, and I’d like to catch her sight, but we’re being hustled into position.

  Eventually, Ethan and Ella lead the way down the aisle. I’m next with Pam Carter on my arm. Tricia and Leon follow me, and Tom and Emily’s sister, Grace, bring up the rear. Jess steps over, and we all focus on the smallest member of the wedding party, making her way down the aisle. Katie Carter is the cutest thing in her little white dress and her blond hair styled like a crown on her head. She looks like a princess, and my eyes find Britton, who is watching my friend’s daughter. Briefly, I wonder what a daughter of Brit’s would look like. Would she have blond hair and blue eyes like her?

  The music flares, and Emily enters, walking down the aisle on her own as her parents are both deceased. I overheard Emily explain she was giving herself away, but Jess surprises everyone and walks down the aisle to meet her. This isn’t what we practiced, but he joins her mid-aisle, takes her hand, kissing her fingers, and then they continue down the aisle together. I notice Britton swiping at her cheeks, and I wonder if she’s remembering her own wedding day. She was probably a beautiful bride. Suddenly, I realize there isn’t a picture of her, or her and her husband, within her house. It seems strange as women love that kind of thing, but the ceremony begins, drawing my attention to the proceedings.

  Do you, John James Carter, take Emily Marie Post to be your wife? The traditional vows continue until Emily is asked the same question.

  Do you, Emily Marie Post, take John James Carter to be your husband?

  With the forever love flowing between these two during this ceremony, it seems like only a legality to seal them in matrimony. The ceremony is quickly over, and the wedding party proceeds back down the aisle and outside for pictures. We’re arranged and re-arranged in a variety of combinations for shot after shot and pose after pose. After what feels like a lifetime, we’re released, and I finally find Britton mingling amid the crowd gathered on the grass for drinks.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I greet her.

  “Hey yourself, handsome.” The compliment makes me grin.

  “Gee.” I hold out a hand, and he shakes mine like a practiced adult. I reach for his bow tie and wiggling it. “Snazzy.”

  “It’s a clip-on,” he says, preparing to remove it to show me.

  “Not yet,” Britton teases.

  “Guys, picture,” a photographer says beside us, and I wrap an arm around Britton.

  “Let’s have your son stand beside Mom as he’s almost as tall as you, and that makes you the centerpiece.” He pauses as we arrange ourselves. “Beautiful family.”

  I choke on the comment as the flash goes off, but Britton doesn’t correct the photographer. When I glance down at her, her face is pink, and that unsettled feeling from earlier returns to me. I want to tell her we need to talk, but the timing isn’t right.

  Instead, I lead Britton through the crowd, reacquainting myself with people I haven’t seen in years. Some I’d never recognize as physical changes have occurred in the last twenty years. Either way, it’s like a mini high school reunion.

  Eventually, we’re called to dinner, where I sit separately from Britton as a member of the wedding party. Toasts are given, and finally, I’m able to find Britton and Gee again at a guest table. Holden sits near Gee, and the two play a game on one of their phones.

  “Having fun?” I ask of Britton as I take a seat between her and her son.

  “It’s been a beautiful celebration.” Her eyes dreamily coast over the decorated barn, and I want to ask her about her own special day. Is she thinking of it? Is she remembering him? I don’t want to be jealous of a dead man, but I am. He left behind a beautiful wife and an amazing son, and I’m not certain he appreciated either of them when he was alive.

  “Uh-oh,” Gee mutters next to me, and I turn to him.

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Drummond,” Holden whispers, and I squint at the older woman approaching us. Mrs. Drummond had been my sixth-grade teacher, and I’d seen her last week in TeasMe!. She’s retired and became a local librarian from what I vaguely remember of her. She’s kind of a prominent figure in the community like Emily’s grandmother had been, but she’s also a busybody. Both boys seem distressed by her approach.

  “What did you do?” Britton whispers, leaning over me to speak to the boys as they sit upright, guilty of something.

  “Gavin,” the elderly woman states in her ancient schoolteacher voice.

  “Yes,” I respond, but there’s an echo, and I turn to find that Gee is answering her as well as me. Mrs. Drummond stops on the opposite side of the circular table, looking from Gee to me and back.

  “This is your boy?” Mrs. Drummond asks, only it sounds more like a statement. Like she’s clarifying something to me, and I twist to Gee again. He looks directly at me, our eyes meeting, and I’m reminded of earlier in the day when I gazed in the mirror standing next to Ethan.

  Seeing myself for the first time.

  Looking at Gee, I’m seeing . . .

  “Mrs. Drummond, is there a problem?” Britton asks, and slowly my head turns to her. She sits upright, still as a statue. Her neck is lifted high. Her back stiff.

  “These boys were shooting paintballs outside the library the other day.”

  Britton’s mouth falls open. “Surely, you were mistaken,” she defends, fighting the fi
ght for her son, but her fingers curl into fists on her lap. It reminds me of Mum. She’d go into battle for me but wage war once we were home.

  “Gavin Scott, I expect you to rein in your son.”

  “He’s not—”

  “You were one mischievous devil as a boy, and I suspect your twin is just like you.”

  I turn back to Gee, who’s staring at the librarian.

  “Mrs. Drummond, he’s not my son,” I say to clarify. Maybe she’s confused. Maybe something’s not quite right with her.

  “Of course, he is. He’s the spitting image of you at that age,” she says, waving out a hand to emphasize our matching appearances.

  He can’t be. Gee is twelve. Britton was married. She told me Patrick was his dad. But vaguely, I recall that she never actually said that. She refers to him all the time as Patrick.

  Another thought occurs. It takes nine full months to be pregnant. The last time I saw Brit . . . was thirteen years ago . . . and we . . . but I was cautious. I used condoms. She was on the pill. Except for that one time. I do some math. I assumed Britton had hooked up with Patrick pretty quickly after she and I had been together, which didn’t settle well, but I couldn’t pass judgment after all this time. However, now I’m curious about something specific.

  “Gee, when is your birthday?”

  “April twenty-seven.”

  Quickly, I count backward and turn to Britton, who sits with an elbow on the table, pressing at her forehead with her fingertips. Her eyes are closed.

  “Britton.” My throat clogs. My voice cracks on her name. With Mrs. Drummond still standing at the opposite side of the table, I turn back to her and slowly stand.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Drummond. I’ll look into this.” My hand curls under Britton’s arm, nudging her to stand without asking. Cupping the underside of her arm, she quietly follows the silent directive, and I lead her toward an exit.

  “Gavin,” Mum calls to me as we pass her table.

  “Not now, Mum,” I state, dismissing her as I continue to tug Britton for the door. Once outside, we walk a few feet from the barn before Britton tugs her arm free from my tight grasp and turns to face me.