by Ali Parker
“I’m sorry,” I offered. “I really am. In a perfect world, all of us would have had happy endings.”
Camden smiled softly at me. “In a perfect world, the ones most deserving of happy endings get them. And I think that’s what happened here tonight.”
His kindness startled me. I blinked.
Camden reached out to me before he caught himself and let his hand fall to his side. “I’m happy for you both, Piper. Truly. Don’t spare the rest of us another moment’s thought.”
I swallowed hard before giving in to the impulse to throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him fiercely. Camden stood momentarily paralyzed in my embrace before hugging me back. It was familiar and safe, but it was no longer my place to be, so I only held on briefly before stepping back and tucking my hair behind my ears.
“Maybe I’ll see you both out on the dance floor later?” I asked.
Max polished off his drink and waggled his eyebrows at me. “Only if your maid of honor is going to be out there, too.”
Chapter 20
Wyatt
I spied Piper near the bar chatting with Camden and Max. I’d been on my way to intercept her and give her part of her wedding gift but decided it might be best to let her mingle. She’d been worrying a lot over how things would go with the other men when she ran into them at the wedding. It was clear from where I was standing that there was no bad blood between her and Camden or her and Max. In fact, from where I was standing, it looked as if they were all friends.
“Jealous?”
I turned to the dark-haired woman beside me. “Janie.” I smiled. “I don’t get jealous.”
“Oh please.” She crossed both arms and rolled her eyes at me. “Everyone gets jealous, Wyatt. Even you aren’t immune to humanity’s worst emotion.”
“It’s not really an emotion, is it?”
“Isn’t it?” she challenged with a sly smile. “I don’t know. If I saw my man with two of his exes, I might get a little insecure.”
“Are you trying to bait me?”
She snickered. “No. Never. I’m testing you to see what you’re really made of.”
“Did I pass?”
Janie put her hand on my shoulder. “Of course, you did. The DJ sent me over to tell you your first dance with Piper was set to start soon. So you may want to meddle after all.” She tipped her chin toward the bar. “Maybe she wants you to sweep in and save her. You can never tell with Piper whether she’s being polite or she really wants to talk to you.”
Janie took her leave. I watched her sift through the crowd, pausing to shake hands with people she knew and offering warm smiles to some of Piper’s family. She was good at this whole maid of honor thing.
I moved through the tent toward Piper. Her laughter carried in my direction and I basked in it as I approached. I took my time, admiring her in her dress with her purple lips and her shimmering makeup. She looked like a goddess. Or a fairy. Or just something too good to be true.
When I reached the bar, Max leaned away from Piper. The laughter on his lips died and Piper turned toward me. Her face lit up and she handed me a glass of wine. “I was about to bring this to you,” she said.
I plucked it from her fingers and took a sip. “Perfect timing. You and I have a first dance to get to.”
“Already?”
“Remember what Laurel said. Time flies.” I held out my hand.
Piper slapped hers into my palm and looked over her shoulder at the other two men as I led her to the dance floor. “It was nice talking to you both. I’ll see you out there.”
We arrived at the edge of the dance floor. Laurel and her team had set up a floor of white tiles that changed colors based on the music playing. As of right now, they were switching between shades of pink, blue, and purple, and the music was quick and jovial. When I looked up at the DJ and the MC standing next to him, the music was turned all the way down. The tiles subsided to a pale glow.
Our guests settled down too, sensing that something was about to happen, and when the music started up again, it was slow and romantic. I held up my hand and guided Piper out onto the tiles, which changed color beneath our feet as we took up residence right in the middle.
“Our first dance as husband and wife,” I mused.
Piper gazed up at me and stepped in close. The lights above danced across her cheeks and her lashes cast dark dramatic shadows over her skin. I lifted a hand to trace some of those shadows, and she leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment. “Don’t mess it up, cowboy.”
The dance began.
As soon as we started moving across the tiles together, I was reminded of our night at the Doherty ranch, the night where all my neighbors saw me with the girl I loved. The night it all started to finally feel real. The night the Buck brothers burned my barn down.
I was on the dance floor with Piper there, too. And it all felt too good to be true—and like a cruel punishment because we both knew that in a week’s time, she would be leaving. But this time as I spun and walked Piper through our waltz, there was no impending goodbye hanging over our heads. No dreaded time limit.
We had forever to dance with each other like this.
Forever to crack jokes and lie in bed together and kiss and dream.
“I have something I want to tell you,” I said.
Piper searched my eyes. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“There’s a reason I was late bringing your parents home last night.”
“I figured.” The corner of her mouth curled upward in a suspicious smile. “Where is this going?”
“Well,” I said, hesitating. I was suddenly unsure where to begin. Bringing her parents to the empty storefront yesterday had been nerve-wracking as hell. But it had gone well. For some reason, telling Piper was even more stressful, even though I knew the reaction would be positive. “I talked to them about the restaurant when I picked them up from the airport.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head to the side.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And well, I had this crazy idea.” I spun Piper away from me. Her skirts fanned out all around her. People on the edges of the dance floor sighed at the beauty of it all. Her hair fell over her shoulders when I pulled her back to me and she braced herself with a hand against my chest.
“What kind of crazy idea?”
“The kind that will require a lot of time and work to pull off properly.”
Her brows drew together. “Okay.”
“I bought them a restaurant, Piper.”
She blinked.
Then she stumbled over her own feet. I caught her, set her upright again, and moved her through the rest of the dance so that our guests were none the wiser to her little slip-up. Her eyes were wide and fixed on me.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I bought a restaurant for them,” I said again. “A place they can make their own. And I brought them to it last night to see if they even wanted it. If they wanted to move to Austin. And lucky for us, they do.”
Piper’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine as they grew glassy.
I grimaced. “I hope I didn’t fuck this up and you’d rather they be in New York.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Wyatt. My family is everything to me. And the thought of them being so far away was eating me up inside. But this? This fixes everything.”
“So you’re happy?”
“Happy?” Piper stopped dancing. The skirt of her dress settled all around her and the world fell still. Then she threw her arms around me with a joyous cry and buried her face in my shoulder. Her dress practically swallowed me whole. “I’ve never been better, Wyatt.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief and held her tight. As I hugged her, I spotted her family standing on the edge of the dance floor. Her mother had her hands clasped together under her chin and she was watching us with a tearful smile. The col
ors of the ever-changing tiles reflected in her eyes. I held out my hand and beckoned for them to join us.
Her family came out onto the dance floor. Janie was quick to follow with Nicky, who looked like he knew just how lucky he was to be dancing with a city girl like her, and then all of a sudden, everyone was out on the dance floor. It shook and moved as one, and the music quickened, and Piper reached out to pull her mother and father close.
“Wyatt told me about the restaurant,” she said over the music. “It’s amazing. I’m so glad you guys decided to go for it!”
“We want to be close to you,” her mother said.
“Family is what matters,” her father agreed. His gaze flicked toward me. “Right, Wyatt?”
“Right.”
Phillip draped an arm around Piper’s shoulders. She swatted him away when he messed up her hair and threatened to flatten some of her perfect loose curls with his forearm. “Sorry, Pipes,” he said before looking around at the rest of us. “And here I was, thinking I wanted out of the restaurant industry.”
“You still can get out,” their father said.
Piper and Phillip exchanged a surprised look.
Mr. James nodded earnestly. “I mean it, son. You don’t have to hitch your wagon to ours. Not this time. Your mother and I have been talking and we realize it was unfair of us to assume you wanted the same things we did. You’re free to carve your own path. To find your own way. Like your sister.”
“Aww, Daddy,” Piper gushed.
“Daddy shmaddy,” Phillip said, dismissing her with a wave. Then he planted his fists on his hips. “I want in, Dad. I want the whole meal deal. Early mornings in the kitchen. Late nights wiping tables. Long shifts serving demanding and thankless customers. Are they better here in Austin than they are in the city, Wyatt?”
Everyone turned toward me.
“Uh,” I stammered. “Good question. I have no idea. I know a hell of a lot more about cows and horses.”
Everyone laughed.
Mr. James took his son under one arm. “You’re sure, Phillip? There’s no shame in not wanting the same things. I want you to be happy. I want you to model your success to fit your desires, not to appease your mother and I.”
Phillip shrugged out from under his father’s heavy arm. “I’m not appeasing anyone, Dad. I want this. Let’s be honest. I’ve always been good at the restaurant. And truth be told, I like it there. At least, I liked it there when we had customers. And this? Well, maybe I can help you make something great. A father-son duo.” He grinned sheepishly. “And let’s be honest, you guys need someone with a bit of youth to steer you away from outdated choices.”
Mrs. James took a swipe at her son.
He slipped away from us, darting between Janie and Nicky for a quick escape route, and promptly disappeared into the crowd.
Piper beamed up at her father. “Well, there you have it. Looks like Phillip is all in.”
Mr. James rubbed the back of his neck. There was a sheepish grin of his own playing on his lips of the like I’d never seen before. “Looks like it, hey, Pipes?”
She nudged him in the ribs. “It’s going to be great. I can’t wait to see what you make of it. But please, for the love of God, don’t name it Piper’s Paradise again.”
Mr. James pouted. “Why not?”
“I think it’s got a nice ring to it,” I said.
“You’re both crazy,” Piper groaned.
“What about Piper’s Place?” I suggested.
“Or Piper’s Pride?” her mother threw in.
Piper rolled her eyes and hid her face behind her hands. “You guys. Stop. None of these are good.”
“Piper’s Palace?”
I couldn’t help but smile around at the people who were now my family. These were smiles I would see all the time now, and this was laughter I’d be lucky enough to hear whenever we were together.
They would have gotten along well with my parents. I knew that much for certain. And my parents would have adored Piper. Even though they hadn’t lived long enough to meet her, I knew they were looking down, hopefully laughing, and maybe offering silent suggestions of their own of what to name the restaurant.
I doubted any of their suggestions would be any better than what we’d already cooked up.
Chapter 21
Piper
Janie padded barefoot across the torn-up grass beneath the tents toward me. She had her shoes in one hand, pinched together with her fingers hooked in the heels, and she had the skirts of her plum dress gathered up above her knees and tied in a knot so she didn’t trip when she was dancing.
She dropped into an open seat beside me at an abandoned table and plucked a glass of what used to be ice water off the white tablecloth. Not caring whose it was—or had been—she poured it down her throat, smacked her lips, and dragged the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away droplets of water and the lingering traces of her lipstick.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, slumping back in her chair in a most unladylike fashion. “I’m beat. I haven’t danced that much since I was twenty. How are you holding up? You want to get out of that dress yet?”
I ran my hands over my skirt and loved the way the lace tickled my palms. “I don’t want to take it off ever.”
Janie leaned forward to rest her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “That’s fair. You do look absolutely incredible. I suppose I wouldn’t want to take it off either.”
“The shoes, however,” I said, pausing to slip my flats off, “can go.”
I leaned back like she was and blinked up at the chandelier above my head. The greenery still dangled from above, and so did a few crystals, but the candles had long since gone out. Exactly when that had happened, I wasn’t sure. The time had slipped through my fingers like sand. One minute, the party was in full swing and Wyatt and I were dancing with our family and friends, and the next, almost all our guests had gone home and I was alone on the dance floor with Janie.
Not that that was a bad thing. I was glad for it. She and I had worked our asses off to make this wedding happen, not to mention sacrificed so much time together over the course of the year just so I could go through with this whole Casanova thing. Letting our hair down and dancing like idiots together had been medicine I didn’t know I needed. I suspected she felt the same way.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
I sighed. “How crazy it is that it’s all over.”
“Over?”
“This.” I gestured around at the tent. “All this work and it’s over in hours. It just felt so fleeting.”
“Yes, but don’t think of it as over. Think of it as a kickstart to the rest of your life. All the good things still lay ahead of you. You and Wyatt have so much better things in store than just your wedding night. Come on. If that wasn’t true, this would be a very sad night.”
I smiled and sat up straighter. “You always know just the right thing to say, Janie. You know that?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Course I do. But I never get tired of hearing it. Tell me again how amazing I am.”
“You’re amazing.”
She pretended to blush under my flattery, and then her gaze slid over my shoulder, and her smile faltered. “Hey, Pipes?”
“What’s up?”
“I think there’s one more person who needs to talk to you tonight.”
“Who?”
She nodded past my shoulder.
I twisted in my chair and gazed over the tops of the tables, over the floral purple and white centerpieces, past the DJ booth, over the dance floor, to the bar, where one man in a crisp black suit sat with his back to me. He was slim but not too slim, and his shoulders were slumped. There was a water bottle in his hand.
“Levi,” I said softly.
Janie got to her feet and came to stand beside my chair, where she put her hand on my shoulder. “I think he needs closure. And maybe you do, too. Go. While it’s just the two of you.”
I didn�
��t want to.
No, that wasn’t quite true. I did want to. But I was scared.
Scared that the guilt might be too much for me when I looked him in the eye and saw all the hurt that I’d caused. Scared that he would make me feel like a monster for abandoning him when he clearly needed support. Scared that he would make me doubt things, would make me question decisions that I had not yet questioned.
But I owed him a conversation and closure. And fear was no reason not to give it to him.
So I got to my feet, gathered my dress up off the ground, and set off through the tent to meet him at the bar. I didn’t say anything when I arrived. Instead, I took up the open stool on his right and accepted the bottle of water the bartender handed me. The bar had closed a long time ago and he was packing up all the alcohol.
I untwisted the cap and took a sip.
Levi didn’t look over at me, but he smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He tipped his water to his lips like it was a beer. He probably wished it was. “Beautiful wedding.”
“Thanks. It wasn’t me. The Casanova Club helped and…” I shook my head. Why was I telling him this? Did he care? Not likely. In fact, he probably didn’t want to hear a single thing about this wedding. He only said it was beautiful to be polite. I swallowed. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
For everything. For hurting you. Leaving you. Loving you.
“All of it,” I whispered.
Levi chuckled. I knew him well enough to know this wasn’t a real laugh. This was a bitter sound. A resentful sound.
Even a jealous sound perhaps.
It made me want to crawl up inside my dress and hide.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I meant it or not. Part of me was glad to see him. Most of me was glad. But there was another part of me, the part that was the loudest in this moment, that wished he’d never showed up at all and I’d been spared this awful conversation.
Not that this could be considered a conversation. Yet.
He didn’t tell me he was glad he came, too. Instead, he finally pulled his gaze away from the water bottle in his hands and looked at me. Really looked at me. He looked past the wedding makeup and the messed-up dancing hair and the discomfort. And he nodded.
