by Liz Talley
But now, she knew, as her granny often said, “there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip.”
“Part of me will always love Benton. He was my first love, and we had a lot of good times. But sometimes life doesn’t give us what we think we should have. Coming to terms with the anger over not getting what I thought I deserved has been half the battle. A relationship gives not just love but a sense of well-being. I missed that as much as I missed Benton.”
Rosemary sighed. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. I mean, I know. I was there, but when I think about this past year, I can’t grasp being you, Jess.”
“I’m stronger now. I am. And I feel like I’m truly over it. I’ll admit, I sorta begged Ryan to come with me. Somehow having him here with me when I face all that I was makes me feel more solid. Does that make sense?”
Rosemary nodded, flipping the dress right side out again. “It does. And I can see a change in you. Your eyes are clearer, and you smile a lot. That’s a good thing.”
“I can’t help it. Ryan makes me smile. He’s so funny and charming. He gets me and still gives me plenty of breathing room.”
“Do you think you could fall in love with him?” Rosemary asked, holding the dress out to Jess.
Love. It was the word floating around above her. The last time she’d been in love it had been easy. Benton had always been there, filling up the spaces. He was a given in her life. But she’d chosen Ryan. And he’d chosen her. He had a lot of women to pick from—they swarmed him like honeybees—but he’d picked her. Something about having free choice in choosing to be with someone and not falling into something because it was comfortable seemed more legitimate. As for love, she wasn’t sure. Maybe her definition of love had changed. Maybe love wasn’t so much about the future as it was the now. Perhaps love wasn’t as hard as everyone made it out to be.
Did she love Ryan?
That was the question.
“I think I could,” she said finally.
Rosemary lifted an eyebrow. “You think?”
“I don’t know. Love isn’t like the chicken pox. You don’t get symptoms that tell you what it is,” Jess said, unwinding the robe and shimmying into the dress. The pink looked good against her tan, and thanks to the Florida sun, her brown hair had nice natural honey highlights.
“Yeah, you do,” Rosemary said, eyeing her critically as she zipped the dress. “You can’t think about anyone else. All you do is obsess about the way he smiles. The way he touches you. His kiss. The tight ass. The—”
“TMI,” Jess said, holding up a hand and laughing.
“Okay, okay. But, hey, the dress looks perfect, and you look like one hot mama,” Rosemary said, twisting one of Jess’s curls. “Maybe it’s not love if you have to think about it too much.”
“It’s not love. I don’t want it to be love. Yeah, I do all those things you think about, hard ass included—but this is infatuation. It’s a rebound. You don’t fall in love with your rebound, no matter how awesome he is,” Jess said, turning to admire the cut of the dress in the mirror. Cap sleeves, scooped neck, pleated cummerbund that nipped her waist before flaring out in a bell. Rosemary had bought fluffy slips to hold the dress form. It fell to tea length, as Rosemary deemed appropriate for her late-afternoon wedding.
“There aren’t any rules, Jess,” Rosemary said, adjusting the hem. “I know that disappoints a cut-and-dried girl like you. Love doesn’t find you when you want it to. Nope, it slams into you and holds you hostage. Stop trying to put rules into place.”
“You sound like Lacy,” Jess snorted, unzipping the bridesmaid’s dress.
Rosemary’s eyes met her in the mirror. “Good.”
Friday night at the Iron Bull meant a gal had to leave her sandals at home. Tons of cowboys and good ol’ southern boys crowded into the local watering hole looking for cold beer and hot women. Which meant a lot of boots. Jess elected to wear a pair of pumps with a short dress that worked equally well for rehearsal dinner and navigating the nightlife at the honky-tonk.
“Looks hopping,” Jess remarked, offering Big Jerry her hand for the stamp that would glow under the black light. “Let’s get our crunk on.”
“Does anybody say that anymore?” Eden laughed.
“Probably not. I’m not up on hip jargon. Don’t be throwing shade on me,” Jess said, wagging her head in a snappy way. Her hoop earrings hit her neck because she’d worn her hair up, letting tendrils fall sexily from the topknot.
“You’re so weird,” Rosemary said, her gaze searching the room, no doubt for Sal. The guys, Ryan included, had left earlier while the girls went back to change. Or rather, Rosemary went back to change. The bride-to-be wore a maxi dress she’d bought in SoHo and looked suitably glowing.
If things felt weird being back in Morning Glory, being with her girls felt right as rain. Jess had enjoyed being with Eden and Rosemary. Even the weird food Ryan’s parents cooked hadn’t dampened her spirits. She and Ryan had squeezed into the double bed in the guest bedroom, snuggled under the quilt his grandmother had made and had gratifying, quiet sex. Ryan had said he felt very naughty doing it under his parents’ roof, but something about the subterfuge made it exciting. She’d had to cover her own mouth more than once as he whispered all his high school fantasies about what he wanted to do to her in her ear. They’d woken late, Ryan spooning her, and promptly had more whispery morning sex. She’d emerged from her morning shower feeling pretty damn good.
Even now, as her gaze snagged on him, leaning against the rough bar, talking to Sal, her heart got warm and gooey. He looked particularly yummy, too. He’d bought some plain-front khakis and wore a turquoise gingham shirt that made his eyes brighter against his tan. Next to Sal’s rough-around-the-edges sexiness, Ryan looked together and polished. He made Jess long to mess him up a little.
“Jess.”
She stiffened at the familiar voice. But there was no avoiding him. She turned to find Benton standing behind her, holding a beer. He’d grown a goatee, something she’d always hated on him, and smiled at her as if she were a long-lost friend and not the woman he’d divorced. “Benton.”
“I figured I’d see you here,” he said, his gaze dropping to take in her dress. She’d worn the dress she’d bought the first week in Pensacola, the one that was a bit short and showed off her legs. She could see the appreciation in Benton’s eyes, which made her angry. He didn’t have the right to appreciate her assets any more. “You look good.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t say anything more. Wasn’t making it easy for him. That was the problem—she’d always made life easier for Benton. She filled in awkward conversations, gave him way too many passes, and buttered his toast each morning. Jess had let Benton get away with being a lazy-assed husband who glommed everything she had and gave little in return.
“How is Florida?”
“Very nice. I’m really enjoying the work again,” she said, catching Eden’s eye. Both Rosemary and Eden had stopped in their progress toward the rest of the wedding party. “I have to go.”
Benton nodded, and she noted he needed a haircut. His hair curled at the neckline, and his cowlick stuck up. His shirt wasn’t ironed, either, something she’d always done for him. He’d lost weight but still looked like the man she’d once loved. “It was good seeing you, Jess. Did you get my flowers?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Giambi in Room 323 really enjoyed them.”
Jess walked away, even after seeing the flash of pain in Benton’s eyes. That’s right, buddy. I didn’t keep your fucking flowers celebrating the tender innocence of our budding love in the ninth grade. Not when you brought me more fucking flowers put together by the woman you were screwing to tell me you didn’t love me anymore. You don’t get to bring me flowers anymore, asshole.
“Crap,” Eden breathed, “you were cold as ice. That was awesome.”
Jess found Ryan with her gaze again. He’d been watching her. She smiled at him, telling her with her eyes that he was her focal po
int. Ryan was the man who’d picked her up, brushed her off, and made her totally whole again. Okay, he hadn’t done it all. Wasn’t like she had to have a man to feel her worth, but having Ryan helped.
“You made it,” Sal said, pulling Rosemary to him and giving her a sweet kiss. “You want a drink? It’s your bachelorette party, and you should get bombed.”
Rosemary pinched him, but rose on her tiptoes to give him another kiss. “Do you know what I look like after I’ve gotten bombed?”
“Yeah. I remember. Sorta pasty and green about the gills.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “I’m having two drinks tonight. No more. I want to look my best when I marry you tomorrow.”
Jess pretended to stick her finger down her throat.
Eden giggled then said, “Uh, I’m the only single one here. Why don’t you have any single brothers, Sal? They’re all so cute and taken.”
“My mom pairs us up as newborns. I got lucky and got away,” Sal said, giving Rosemary a soft smile. Jess almost made the gagging motion again, but both she and Eden knew about Sal’s mother and the woman she’d tried to marry him off to.
Sal’s brothers arrived along with several of Rosemary’s cousins. Her mother had tried to horn in on the outing, but Rosemary had put her foot down. Jess’s once reticent friend did that more frequently now. Sal had a positive effect on Rose.
Ryan caressed her waist, and she leaned in to him.
“Drink?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sure. I’ll take a tequila shot,” she said.
Ryan raised his eyebrows and then turned toward the bartender.
“I’m joking. Just get me a beer. You know what I like,” she said, enjoying that he did indeed know what she liked. Over the course of the last three hours of rehearsal and dinner, Ryan had had to field lots of questions regarding his transformation into stud muffin, leaving the scientific world, and, from all the men present, the species of fish he most often caught in the Gulf. Once they made it to fishing, he relaxed into the charming, carefree man she’d first met. But still, she could feel the tightness in his body. Coming to Morning Glory had been harder on him than she’d thought. At times she could sense him shutting down, and it made her wonder who he truly was beneath his carefully designed facade. How much baggage did he carry about his past? She’d been so focused on her own healing, they’d not talked much about his feelings about growing up in a world that wasn’t forgiving of being different.
Ryan ordered them both a beer, and then the others arrived. For the next half hour, they chatted with the wedding party, some people breaking off to dance when the band struck up a fun song. Eventually, Sal and his brothers eyed the pool tables in the back of the bar. Ryan looked at her questioningly, and she said, “Go kick some ass and make a little money.”
“The hell he will,” Sal laughed, slapping Ryan on the back as he followed his brothers to the tables. “I can shoot a combo with my eyes closed.”
Ryan glanced back at Jess with a gleam in his eyes. She’d seen his spreadsheet and watched him study shots on an Internet forum for billiard enthusiasts. Ryan was a scientist who calculated every shot. Sal would likely eat his words.
“I really like Ryan,” Rosemary said, watching the guys as they disappeared into the throng of Friday night revelers.
“Me, too,” Eden said, sipping her white zinfandel. Her cute dark pageboy framed her dramatic eyes with their too-long lashes. She looked like an advertisement for mascara. “I still can’t get over how gorgeous he is. I want to ask him to take his shirt off …”
Jess made a face at Rosemary, who smiled.
Eden blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”
Jess laughed. “You want me to ask him to take it off for you?”
Her friend looked alarmed. “No. Oh, I really didn’t mean to say that. Oh crap. Damn. It’s Gary! Hide me.”
“Gary your boss?” Rosemary asked, craning her head and spotting the balding man who liked to stare at Eden’s boobs and sometimes say inappropriate things like, “It’s so hot in here,” while he stared at Eden’s butt. “Ugh, he looks even grosser than he did in high school. And bald. And what the heck is he wearing?”
“A black leather jacket,” Eden said, giving a little shiver. “He bought it on eBay. Said it’s a motorcycle jacket. He got a Harley in July, and now he’s thinking of getting a tattoo. Wanted to know if I would help him pick one out that was badass.”
“Oh God,” Jess said, wrinkling her nose. Gary was the bane of Eden’s existence, but her friend couldn’t quit her job because of the benefits and flexibility with her schedule. Until Eden’s sister moved back, she was stuck at Penny Pinchers.
“Ladies,” Benton said, swooping into the open spot where they were viewing Gary trying to put the vibe out to the soccer moms at the end of the bar who looked to be having a girls’ night.
Jess drew back in horror. Like in a movie when a spider dropped onto someone.
“Hey, Benton,” Rosemary said, not looking happy to be interrupted by him. None of the girls had said much of anything to Jess’s ex-husband. They stood in solidarity even if it looked rude to everyone else. Her friends knew the heartbreak Jess had endured.
“What do you want?” Eden asked, her blue eyes growing ice chips.
“I’m just saying hello to some of my favorite girls in town,” Benton said, donning his good-old-boy smile. It had gotten him a lot of stuff in life—job interviews, free tickets to State games, and women.
“We’re your favorite?” Rosemary asked, her lips flattening. “I hear differently. Who are you on now, Benton? Mallory Simon? Thought that was your latest. Hope you’re getting tested monthly.”
Jess choked on her beer, and it went up her nose. She started coughing as fire burned her nostrils.
“Here,” Benton said, lifting a napkin to her mouth. “Breathe, babe, breathe.”
Jess pushed his hand away and took the napkin. Babe? What the hell was he doing? “I’m fine. Stop.”
He pulled his hands away and looked concerned. Then he turned to Rosemary. “I’m not dating anyone right now, Rosemary, but I do appreciate you looking out for my health.”
Rosemary didn’t say anything. Just glared at him. Jess took a moment to admire the new sass in her friend. She had always known Rose had a wicked side. It was nice to see her unleash it in public.
“Again,” Eden said, “what do you want?”
Benton ignored Eden and looked at Jess. “Can we talk?”
“I don’t think so. I’m spending tonight with Rosemary. It’s her night.” Jess gave her friend a smile.
“Please. I have some things I want to say to you, and I want to do that face-to-face. How about a dance? I can do it over a dance,” he said, gesturing to the crowded dance floor.
Jess didn’t want him to touch her, but she knew Benton. He was like a dog wanting to be fed. He’d nip and yip and bounce until he got what he wanted. Better to deal with him now than have him ruin her night by constantly popping up demanding attention. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll be right back, girls.”
Benton tried to take her elbow, but she shrugged away from him. She nodded toward the dance floor and then followed him. The band had been playing a rousing rendition of a Tim McGraw song, and as she and Benton stepped onto the weathered dance floor, they rolled into a cover of Zac Brown Band’s “Sweet Annie.” Made Jess want to mutter, “Shit.”
“I love this song,” Benton said as he set his hands at her waist. He knew she loved it, too. Had he tipped the band to play it before he came to ask her to dance? Probably. Whatever Benton Mason wanted …
Jess’s heart contracted as he pulled her to him and the words washed over them. She had so much anger. So much. But he felt so familiar, and the tender words of the song written for a wedding with the apology for past wrongs also in the lyrics made her soften. She didn’t want to feel so … hurt, so achy for what she’d lost, but those feelings came flooding back. As they moved for a few seconds—her hand s
et on the shoulder where she’d lain her head many a night, her other hand clasped in his familiar one—she felt the devastation that lay between them so sharply it nearly took her breath away.
She swallowed the scratchiness in her throat and managed to say, “What did you want to say to me?”
Benton looked down, his face once so dear to her, now like a stranger’s. “I needed to tell you I was wrong to do what I did.”
Not I’m sorry, but close. He’d said he was sorry over and over those weeks after he’d packed his clothes and moved in with the florist. But he’d never said he was wrong. “Why?”
“Because I was. I thought I wanted a different life. Like my daddy told me—the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but you still gotta mow it. He’s right. He’d love me saying that, right?”
Jess wasn’t sure where Benton was going with all this, but the flowers he’d sent, the fact he had come tonight when he knew the wedding party would be here, all added up toward something that made her want to stamp her foot in frustration. She knew this man, and he wanted something … and it wasn’t merely forgiveness for his transgression.
“I shouldn’t have ever let you go, Jess,” he said, softly, his eyes so sincere.
Jess stomped on his foot. “But you did.”
“Ow,” he said, wincing. “I know I did. I fucked up. All right? I wanted to tell you that.”
“So you told me,” she said, trying to pull her hand from his grasp.
“Hold on, okay? Just give me this dance,” he said, holding fast to her hand and squeezing her waist with the other one.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why? Because you hate me?” He sounded incredulous, as if he hadn’t actually thought about what she truly felt. Certainly to a man who’d always gotten what he wanted from Jess, this idea was ridiculous.
“You know I don’t hate you, but I can’t pretend what happened away. Not so you can be comfortable with how we ended. And I know that’s what this is. Someone somewhere told you what a lowlife you are for leaving the good woman you had, and now you’re looking for me to make it all better for you. Like I’ve always done. You want me to say it’s okay and that I understand how you felt, but I can’t do that. Because it wasn’t okay, and I don’t understand why you took the love we had and put it on the for-sale rack.”
