by Liz Talley
All morning he’d alternated between being angry at Jess and feeling stupid that he’d let her walk out. Once he got past the anger and hurt, he’d tried to call her, but she didn’t answer her phone. No doubt it was on vibrate since she had a brunch to attend and then an appointment at a salon. He consoled himself with the thought that once she saw his calls, she’d return them. But she hadn’t.
That worried him.
So he got dressed in his new navy-blue suit and wore the stupid pink bow tie he’d bought, learning how to tie it from a YouTube video, and vacillated between throwing himself at her feet or playing it cool. He still wasn’t sure what to do until he killed the engine on the Smart car … or rather, pushed the button to turn it off.
The Morning Glory First United Methodist Church was a light beige brick with a large stained-glass window of Christ on the cross. Crepe myrtles still dressed in showy white blossoms decorated the brick path to the double front doors. A pair of ferns sat to either side of the entrance bedecked with fluffy white bows. A steady stream of trussed-up wedding guests made their way up the path, looking eager to see the impending nuptials. It was an afternoon for happiness. Not the horrible accusations he’d thrown at Jess earlier.
Ryan needed to find her.
He had to tell her that the anger and inferiority he’d locked up for years had come tearing from inside him, rampaging like a wounded boar with little regard for her feelings. He’d said some hard things. Some were true. Some would have better been left unsaid. Either way, he needed to apologize and tell her how much better his life was with her in it. He didn’t want her to throw away what they had … and he damn sure didn’t want her to ever think about going back to Benton. Sure, she’d come back to Morning Glory in a few months, but she didn’t have to settle for a man who didn’t deserve her.
And Benton did not deserve Jessica Anne Culpepper.
He opened the car door and contemplated how to actually get out of the vehicle. He wasn’t huge, but the thing didn’t seem to be made for anyone over five feet tall. He grasped the frame and hefted himself out. No way to look cool unfolding out of one of these.
“Ryan,” someone called. He turned to find Jess’s mother hurrying over to him. Donna Culpepper was as tall as Jess, and still trim and stylish in her late sixties. “Hello, honey. You look very nice. Why don’t you come sit with me and Jim?”
Her earrings winked at him, and her smile was brighter thanks to a vivid red lipstick. Jess’s father toddled up behind his wife and extended his hand to Ryan.
Ryan took it, remembering his manners, even as he wanted to tear off through the church, calling for their daughter. An image from A Streetcar Named Desire flitted through his mind.
“Thank you,” he said, managing a smile at both her parents. “But I need to talk to Jess before the wedding. She’s not responding to my texts.”
“Oh, that’s funny. She just texted me and told me to look for Connie Guthrie. This wedding is going to be hard for Lacy’s mom. Those four girls were like peas and carrots, and the thought of Lacy not being here, well …” Donna’s face flashed sudden grief. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. Uh, do you know where Jess might be? Do they have a place to wait?”
Donna Culpepper smiled. “Of course they do, dear. The church just redecorated our bridal suite a few years back. It’s very nice. I helped pick the fabrics myself.”
“That’s nice,” he said, trying not to look too anxious. He wanted to fix things with Jess. Or at least apologize. Let her know he’d been an idiot.
“Sure. You can slip on back there. Just go through that door over there and listen for all the chatter. You’ll find the girls, but you better make it quick. The wedding starts in fifteen minutes. You want me to save you a seat with us?”
He nodded his thanks and took off toward the door Jess’s mother had pointed to. A minute later he ran into Eden. Like, literally ran into her when he turned a corner.
“Oh,” Eden said, taking a few steps back. Ryan reached out a hand and steadied her.
“Sorry. You okay?” he asked, trying to look past her to see if he could spot Jess.
“I’m fine,” she said, running a hand over her shiny hair. “What are you doing back here?”
He ignored her question. What in the hell did she think? To get his makeup done? To pose for photos? “Have you seen Jess?”
“Of course I’ve seen her. We’re in the wedding together. But don’t go in there.” Eden jabbed a finger at the door marked Bridal Suite. “Rosemary ripped her hem when she tripped over a duffel bag. Her mother found out about the Elvis impersonator, and there was a huge argument with her mother. That’s when Rose tripped. It’s not pretty right now. Running mascara and lots o’ drama. I’m personally going to hide in a bathroom stall for the next ten minutes. I think Jess is still in the courtyard.”
“Thanks,” he called as Eden pushed into the ladies’ room, leaving him alone in the hallway. Through the door to the bridal suite, he heard someone crying. Sounded like Patsy Reynolds. The doorknob turned, and he jumped into action, pushing out the heavy door into the church courtyard. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned, adjusting his jacket.
Across the stone pavers, Jess sat on a bench … next to Benton.
And they were holding hands.
And smiling.
He felt like something slammed into him. His chest hurt so that he clutched it. Blinking his eyes rapidly at the sight in front of him, he tried to make sense of Jess and Benton holding hands, looking somehow … content. For a moment he thought it was a joke, but then the neurons in his brain connected and the sight in front of him became clear.
She belongs to Benton now.
Ryan took a step back and groped for the handle to the door just as Jess’s gaze made contact with his. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open. She shook her hand away from Benton’s, looking as if she would rise from the bench.
Ryan stood there for a second—fight or flight? Would he leave them to their reconciliation or confront them?
Shaking his head in disgust, he turned away and yanked the door behind him open wide. An older woman who he belatedly realized was Rosemary’s mother gasped, clasping her hands against her bosom. He couldn’t even manage an apology. The words pounding against his skull drove him forth. Get the hell outta here.
“Ryan,” Jess called out behind him, her voice full of panic.
But he didn’t stop. He pushed past the older woman and headed back the way he came, not running, but moving at a good clip. Blood roared in his ears, and his heart pounded a jolting rhythm. He didn’t want to see anyone he knew. He just wanted to get into that clown car of his father’s and get the hell away from Jess Culpepper.
He’d been so wrong.
Until yesterday, he’d thought she might be falling in love with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Jess had always belonged to Benton Mason. Weirdo Ryan Reyes had been deceiving himself if he thought any differently.
God, he was such a fool.
Bursting out the door he’d entered minutes ago, Ryan hustled down the walkway, his face set in such a furious manner that several people sidestepped him when he passed them on the way back to his father’s car. No way could he let her catch up, because he’d say some more really ugly things, things that people who were streaming into a church didn’t need to hear. He riffled through his pockets for the key, feeling the anger settle inside him, sending out grappling hooks, pulling his chest tight. Pride had never been a vice, but at that moment the shame burned in him. He wanted to punch something, and if Benton Mason had been handy, the man would have a black eye to match his suit coat.
Ryan had been suckered. He’d lost his heart to love like a true dumb ass.
Well, you wanted to get dirty, have fights, fall in love. Living that life means you take the good with the bad, bud. Welcome to the short end of the stick.
He wrenched the door open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Jess doing a wal
k/jog toward him. Her pink dress fluffed out around her, and a piece of her hair had come down from whatever fancy do she’d received at the salon. Her face reflected worry; her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. People turned and stared as she made a beeline for him. He started the car as she grew nearer.
“Ryan,” she called, waving her hands. “Stop. It wasn’t what you thought.”
He pressed the START button on the car and shifted into gear. He wasn’t going to talk to her right now. Maybe not for a while. Pulling away, he kept his gaze straight ahead. If he stopped, he’d ruin Rosemary’s wedding with a crazy altercation outside the church. No need to do that to either her or Sal. So he did what he’d accused Jess of doing that morning.
He ran.
And he’d called her a pussy.
Chapter Seventeen
Jess dropped the arm she was waving, stopping short of hammering on the rear window of the odd little car as Ryan pulled away. A clump of hair that had been painstakingly battened down with hairspray a few hours ago came loose and fell into her eyes.
Shit.
“Jess,” Eden called, skidding to a halt a few feet behind her.
Jess turned and shook her head. “It wasn’t what he thought.”
Several wedding attendees had stopped to watch Jess chase Ryan down the church walkway. Now they stood, craning their heads, watching Eden take Jess’s hand. More gossip for the reception.
“Come on. We have to go. Time to line up,” Eden said.
Jess felt her heart tremble in her chest. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t because it would make her mascara run and ruin the nice job Sadie at the House of Beauty had done on her makeup. “This is so screwed up. He thinks I’m back with Benton, but I’m not. That was just … and look at my hair.”
Eden tucked the huge hunk of hair behind Jess’s ear. “We’ll get a bobby pin. That will hold it.”
Jess pressed a hand down the shiny satin of the dress and tried to think about puppies frolicking or little kittens curled into balls sunning in a window, because if she thought about Ryan and the look on his face, she was going to cry. She wiped the moisture from her lashes and sniffed before pulling her shoulders back. In four minutes she had to walk down the aisle and watch her dear friend marry the man of her dreams. No time to fix the catastrophe that had just occurred. Ryan’s timing was epic and shitty … and if she disassociated herself and put herself in his shoes, she knew she’d have felt the same way.
But it was not what it looked like.
After she and Eden left the salon, they’d gone to the church to get dressed and take pictures. The wedding started at four o’clock, and she figured after she’d fulfilled her obligations, she could spend some time with Ryan. She’d make him understand the silly fears she had, and she’d tell him she wasn’t going to run from love anymore. She wanted to be with him … not merely for the next few months, but for longer. She’d look for a job in Pensacola so she could be close to him, so they could build a new future together. No planning. Just taking one day at a time. After her conversation with Eden in the preschool room, calmness had settled inside her. She knew her decision to let go and enjoy the current she glided on had been the right one. All she had to do was convince Ryan that she loved him and wouldn’t be so stupid again.
But when Rosemary’s mother received a call from the caterer about where to set up the Elvis impersonator’s speakers, all hell had broken loose. The reception was to be held on the grounds of the Reynoldses’ antebellum estate and surrounding rose gardens, and obviously the idea of a man in a rhinestone romper crooning “Love Me Tender” made Patsy’s hair curl. She and Rosemary had started in on each other, and then there was a torn hem, tears, and more accusations. Jess had slipped out to sit in the garden in the courtyard, because she couldn’t handle any more drama that day. Between the fistfight and the horrible argument with Ryan, she was done.
The courtyard of the First United Methodist Church looked a little tired, but since a long hot summer was drawing to a close, Jess couldn’t fault them for not tending the weary flower beds. She knew in the fall chrysanthemums and pansies would give the walkways a cheerful border. As validation of the thought, a cool breeze wafted through. Jess sank on a bench beneath a shady crepe myrtle and pulled out her phone. Ryan had called twice. She wanted to call him back but knew what she had to say to him would be better said face-to-face. If he could see in her eyes how much she wanted him, he’d believe her. She hoped.
“Jess.”
Lowering her phone, she looked up to find Benton walking toward her. He wore his charcoal-gray suit that fit him nicely and a tie she’d bought him a few Christmases ago. He’d shaved the goatee and gotten a haircut. The Rolex his father had bought him when he got his MBA peeked out beneath the perfectly tailored sleeve. He was both familiar and a stranger.
“You’re a determined man,” she said with a sigh.
“I need to talk to you.”
“So you said.”
“Can I sit?” He gestured to the bench.
Jess didn’t want him to, but to be petty seemed, well, petty. She deserved to be petty, but she scooted over and left a large spot beside her. “Go ahead.”
Benton sat down and clasped his hands, staring out at the bedraggled petunias in the concrete planter across the way. “I know I come on too strong. It’s a fault of mine, but then you know that.”
She nodded but remained silent.
“I meant what I said the other night, you know.” Benton paused for a few seconds.
“Benton, I gave you an answer. Don’t let your persistent nature convince you that I’ll change my mind. I won’t.”
“I thought you’d see things differently in the light of day,” he said, smiling like it was a joke. “No, seriously, I know you don’t have a good reason to agree to see me again when you move back, but I hope you’ll at least think about it. This is not about me needing you to make my life easy. Sure, I took you for granted. I can’t deny that. But I truly believe we could find our way back again, Jess.”
“But that’s the thing, Benton. We can’t.”
“No,” he said, picking up her hand. His grasp felt so familiar—the callus on his thumb from playing golf, the warmth of his touch. “What we had isn’t gone, babe. It’s been beat up and bruised and wounded, but love doesn’t just go away. I know it didn’t for me.”
She looked down at their linked hands. How many times had they held hands over the years? Too many times to count. Benton had left his wedding band sitting on the dresser the day he moved out, like some token he couldn’t bear to have. How odd it looked to see his hand naked, tanned from a summer without a band. “Benton, I can’t. It took me a long time to get over you. For fifteen years I spent every hour of every day believing we were meant to be. When you came home that day and told me I was wrong, it killed me. Part of me will always love you, Ben. You were my first love, my first everything, but I’m not in love with you anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice breaking. “I deserve the hurt. I do. But don’t say there’s not a chance. I love you, Jess. I screwed up, but I know that now.”
Jess took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that seemed to appear if the wind blew right that day. “I’m glad you realized it, but I’ve made some decisions this weekend. One of them is I’m not coming back to Morning Glory. At least not for a while.”
“Why?” he said, his gaze jerking to meet hers. She had always loved his eyes with those thick eyelashes and crinkles on the edges. The pain in the depths of his eyes was sincere.
“I’m happy where I am. I’m happy with Ryan.”
Benton’s expression changed, aggravation flashing. “He’s not for you, Jess. He’s too young, and he’s … the Brain. You can’t be serious with this guy.”
“But I am.”
“You’ve only known him a month.”
“I’ve actually known him longer, but even so, I love him.”
Benton dropped her hand and lo
oked at her like a horn had sprouted in the middle of her forehead. “You’re crazy. He’s … not even your type. He’s kinda girly and … weird. Come on, Jess. Don’t be confused by your first lay after me.”
Jess almost slapped Benton. How damn full of himself could a man be? “I’m not confused. I was. But not anymore. I don’t care what you or anyone else in this town thinks. Ryan Reyes makes me happy.”
“Why, because he does whatever you want? Follows you around like a dog in heat begging for a crumb of Jess. If you want a pussy-whipped man, then yeah, he’s probably the right guy for you.” Benton shook his head in disbelief. “This is un-freaking-believable.”
“That pussy-whipped man sure beat your ass today,” she retorted, curling her hand in her lap. “Look, you let me go. Don’t be angry if I’m happy where I am. I’ve found a new me, and she’s stronger than I thought she was. Beneath the bluster and bullshit, I’m strong, and I’m worth loving. And if Ryan loving me makes him weak in your eyes, then I feel sorry for you. Because love doesn’t make a person weak, Benton.”
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t get your fascination with him.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have a say-so in my life anymore. You forfeited that when you chose ‘experiences’ over sustaining and growing what we had. I get you were scared. Life is pretty damn scary sometimes. But you and I … we’re over.”
“I can’t believe this shit.” Benton sighed, running a hand over his face. “I thought you loved me. Everyone’s been telling me that I broke your heart, and I was going to fix it. I wanted you to come home to me.”
