by Marina Adair
“I built him a glorified pergola; I don’t go to Sunday dinners at his house.” Ali snorted. “So no, I have not and will not ever talk to Nolan Landon about having my sister’s wedding at his place. Plus, with your ex being a good friend of his, it might be awkward. For everyone.”
“Marriages end every day, Ali. It doesn’t mean people have to take sides.”
“I’m not taking sides. I’m telling you it’s not a fit. His place is a few hours from Seattle.”
“But only thirty minutes from here.”
Ali stopped short at that. Bridget was considering getting married in Destiny Bay, the place she used to bemoan visiting?
“What’s up? You and I both know that getting married here, in an estate in the woods, is not your style,” Ali said, thinking of the exposed steel beams, concrete floors, and glass and stone walls. Not a single pastel in the color scheme.
Bridget walked over to the edge of the porch and leaned against the railing. “I have less than a month to plan a wedding before Jamie starts in on some big project. So unless I want to wait a year, or have it at Jamie’s parents’ summer house in Palm Beach, I need to make it work. Somehow, the idea of plastic flamingos and ninety-eight percent humidity have opened me up to out-of-the-box ideas.”
“Why not wait then?” Ali asked, going to stand next to Bridget, and for a moment it felt as if they were kids again, hanging out on the porch, while other people controlled their world. “Take the year and plan the wedding you really want.”
Bridget blew out a breath. “I want to start my life with Jamie now. I’m tired of waiting.”
“And you have to get married to do that?” Ali honestly asked, because as far as she was concerned, life started without a partner.
“Yes,” her sister said, and Ali found herself equally surprised and saddened by her sister’s admission.
“And before you judge me…”
“I’m not judging you,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you are. That little pucker you get in your forehead when you’re about to say something judgy is fetching.” She pressed her pointer hard against Ali’s forehead and pulled it up. “And while I get that this all sounds silly to a person like you who isn’t afraid to go it alone, I’m not you. And I don’t know how to be alone.” Bridget slid her a sad look.
And that was one of the realest things Bridget had said to Ali since they were kids and snuck out onto the sailboat to watch the sunrise, and Bridget said she was making a memory because after the sun was wide awake, nothing would ever be the same.
“I’m not afraid of going it alone, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to have someone I love by my side,” Ali said and the two of them stood quietly, watching the sun slowly sink beneath the skyline of Seattle.
When the sun went from blue to orange, and streaks of pink started to bleed in, Ali turned to her sister. “I’m not saying yes, but how does Jamie feel about tying the knot at his wife’s ex-husband’s friend’s house?”
“It was his idea,” Bridget said with such a fragile smile, Ali knew she was about as excited at the prospect of having the wedding there as Nolan would be hosting it. “He’s trying to build a new campus for a big environmental tech in Seattle and wants to get Nolan on board as the architect.”
“Then Jamie should ask Siri for the number to Landon Designs.” Ali nudged her sister’s elbow with her own. “You can tell him that she will even dial for him.”
That earned her a small chuckle.
“He’s already tried, and Nolan hasn’t returned his call.” This time when her sister faced her, there was nothing but desperation in her eyes. “I’m not asking for your kidney or even for you to lie and say you like Jamie. All I am asking for is a simple phone call to establish a connection.”
“You’re willing to use your wedding and my relationship with a client, my professional relationship, to get Jamie that connection?” Ali asked.
“Yup,” she said, sounding suspiciously shrill, the way she sounded when she was trying hard to be selfless. “An opportunity is an opportunity.”
Ali was shocked. Not that Bridget would try to leverage Ali’s connection to further herself, or her fiancé’s career. When her sister was in a new relationship, it was all about melding into the man’s world, proving to be an asset in his life—and into his industry. She’d done the same thing for Hawk, going from hockey-hater to the best wife-ager in the NHL, orchestrating and maintaining the celebrity rise of Hawk’s career.
Until there was no career to maintain.
But no matter how much of a catch this new guy was, Ali never dreamed that Bridget would agree to let her future wedding double as a business opportunity. Weddings were what she lived for. She’d already planned her first five by the time she was thirteen.
“And what happens if your opportunity creates waves and messes up my opportunity?” Nolan had so many unique pieces to photograph, and while it wasn’t up to him which ones made the spread, he had some influence over the final layout.
“It won’t,” Bridget promised.
Ali drew in a deep breath and decided to go for honest. “Fine, next time I talk to him, I will mention Jamie’s project, not the wedding, just the project. But in return, I need to know if you really want this engagement party?” She held up the file. “Or is it your way of getting back at me?”
“Everything isn’t about you, Aliana.” Bridget lifted her wineglass to her lips and took a sip, her eyes amused. “And what would I be getting you back for anyway?”
“I don’t know, telling the groomer you wanted a lion cut on your cat when you asked for a line cut, wearing combat boots to your wedding, telling Jamie you have a weird fetish for loafers with tassels.”
Bridget swirled her wine. “Pretending you and Hawk are a thing?”
Ali ignored this, instead focusing on the real issue, and the reason she’d driven three hours to confront her sister. “Look, if you’re pissed at me, fine. But don’t take it out on Dad. He will do anything to make you happy, and you and I both know that there is no way he can pull this off and not feel like he disappointed you. You’re setting him up to fail and it’s going to break his heart.”
“I didn’t know I was being such a pest to him. I mean, he was the one who said he wanted it to be the party of my dreams,” Bridget argued. “I told him something small and quaint.”
“Then what’s all this?” Ali held up the binder.
“That is the engagement party of my dreams, which he had Mom send to him when I reiterated small and quaint.”
Shame and a bit of guilt welled up, because Ali had come here under the assumption that it was Bridget setting her dad up. In reality, it had been Gail’s doing. And Ali couldn’t come up with a single reason why her mom would do that to Marty. Unless…
“Is she using this to spend time with Dad?”
Bridget’s face fell, as did all her earlier posturing. “Is it so hard to believe that I regret not having Dad more involved last time?” she said with so much hurt in her voice, it sliced through Ali. “I never expected him to be into all the wedding stuff, but when he seemed so excited at dinner, I figured maybe this was a chance for him and me to connect on something that interests me. Something other than fishing and sailing.”
And here Ali thought that she was the sister who was misunderstood and overlooked. “So you want to plan this with Dad?”
“Planning my own party would be weird.” She wrinkled her nose. “But helping him from the sidelines might be fun.”
Ali saw the genuine longing in her sister’s eyes. It matched Ali’s when she’d been younger and was still optimistic that one day Gail would realize she couldn’t live without Ali and come home. She would never get that with her mom, but Marty and Bridget still had a chance.
“It will take more than you being on the sidelines for Dad to pull this off,” Ali said, gentle warning in her voice, a long-forgotten protectiveness settling in her chest. Not just for Marty, but also for Bridget.
Brid
get smiled. “Which is why I was hoping my maid of honor would help him. Dad thinks she and I could also use some quality connecting.”
Ali’s palms started to sweat. “So the bubblegum pink satin, that was your way of asking me to be your maid of honor?”
“Nope.” Bridget opened the door and turned to walk back into the party, pausing at the threshold. “I was going to call you tomorrow and ask. The fuchsia silk, that’s payback. Tell Hawk I say hi.”
Chapter 5
It was Double Tap Tuesday at the Penalty Box. Drinks were two for one, the San Jose Sharks were on the big screen playing Hawk’s old team, the Chicago Blackhawks, and there wasn’t a person in town who hadn’t dropped by for part of the festivities.
Except Ali.
She’d been avoiding him since Friday, and Hawk had played his part in their little game. He’d pretended not to notice her sneaking past his bar to go talk to Kennedy next door. And when she’d done a cute little duck and cover maneuver behind the cantaloupe selection at Kline’s Fine Foods, Hawk didn’t ask if he could sample the melons. He’d even pretended not to stare at her ass while she unloaded the driftwood from her car as if she knew he was watching.
But he was tired of playing pretend and wanted to engage in a new game. One that included some more face-to-face time. Because it was becoming harder and harder to pretend he didn’t miss seeing her at his bar. So when his best friend, and business partner, Luke, walked through the door, he had a hard time not looking to see if Luke was alone.
“Where have you been?” Hawk asked, pouring a mug of their new Spring Cider and setting it on the bar.
Luke plopped down on one of the few empty bar stools. “Delivering a new shipment of apples to Kennedy.”
“That’s what you were doing this morning when you left me to stock the storage room. Alone.”
“Her apples take some finessing,” Luke said with a grin that had that just been laid smugness to it.
“Yeah yeah,” Hawk said, snatching Luke’s cider back because while Hawk had been running their business, Luke had been playing house with his lady friend.
With a shrug, Luke reached over the counter and filled up his own mug. “You’re just pissy because Bridget came back to town and you were cock-blocked.”
“Trust me, when it comes to Bridget, there is no blocking necessary.” Not anymore.
Sure, once upon a time, Hawk would have given his left testicle for a chance with Bridget again. But that dream had sailed the second she left to find her happiness somewhere else, and no matter how much he wished he could go back and change things, he knew it could never be the same. That’s what happened when people walked out; they could never really go back. No, Hawk knew all too well that everything changed the second love came into question.
“Glad to hear it.” Luke patted him on the shoulder. “But I was talking about how you finally got the balls to make a move on Ali and Bridget shows up so she dumps you. Tough break, man.”
“She didn’t dump me, we’re just friends. And I didn’t make a move. Ali was being, well…Ali.” Spontaneous, big-hearted, and a never-ending pain in his ass. Which, sick bastard that he was, Hawk was growing to enjoy. “Thankfully, Bridget is gone, I have my town back, I mean, she’s here now but it’s only temporary, and in a few months I won’t have to pay alimony anymore.”
“There’s that,” Luke said, taking a swig. “So tell me, what does one get their ex-wife for a wedding present?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“I mean, are you going strictly by the registry or maybe something a little more out of the box?” Hawk sent Luke a look. “What? It’s proper party etiquette to show up with a gift, and between the engagement shower, the wedding shower, the wedding itself…You don’t want to show up empty-handed.”
“I’m not going to any shower and I doubt I’ll make the wedding guest list.” And if he did, he’d be conveniently busy that weekend. It was one thing to wish his ex well in her future. He wasn’t about to go have his past shoved down his throat. “And since when do you care about party etiquette?”
“Since we’ve been talking about renting out the bar for private events,” Luke said and Hawk grimaced.
He was a bar owner and a brewmaster, not some fucking caterer. He liked that locals knew they could drop by and grab a cold one, catch a game, and shoot the shit. That’s why Hawk had opened a bar in the first place. He’d added food to the menu because he was there so much, he needed to eat, too.
So he’d hired a cook to serve up all of his favorite foods.
Only now, their small town of Destiny Bay was having some growing pains. Besides the Moose Lodge, the Penalty Box was the largest venue in town. And the only one with a license to serve liquor. Several businesses in the area, including Kline’s Fine Foods, had approached them about hosting private events.
Cosmo Kline wanted to hire the Penalty Box to host his yearly Fine Food Enforcers retreat, in which a group of independent retail food store owners got together to fish, eat, and talk shop.
Destiny Bay had some of the best coastal fishing spots in the Pacific Northwest, and it was also surrounded by incredible views. The FFE was comprised of the exact kind of people Hawk and Luke needed to network with if they wanted to expand Two Bad Apples Hard Cider into more stores.
It seemed like a perfect opportunity.
Until Luke decided that they needed to do a trial run first. Something low-key, which if they screwed up, wouldn’t hurt business. And even though Hawk hated the idea of private parties, he begrudgingly saw his point. This was a great opportunity, and sure, they’d had plenty of parties there for their own cider label, but hosting an event for grocery store owners was a different ball game.
Cosmo, a supporter of local businesses, was on board. Unfortunately, there was another fishing spot up the coast that some of the other FFE members favored—and it was up to Two Bad Apples to get them to commit to Destiny Bay.
“I put a call in to the local university’s hockey coach, offering to hold their end-of-season party here,” Hawk said. Because if he was going to cater a freaking event, it would be with a bunch of guys who expected hot wings, sports on the flat screen, and knew how to throw one back.
“That’s still a few months out, so I found us a better offer,” Luke said with a smile.
“As long as it doesn’t include someone messing with my menu, my decor, or bringing outside liquor, I’m open.”
“Great.” Luke polished off his cider and set the mug down. “Marty wants to reserve the bar for a party next weekend.”
“Marty?” Hawk felt his shoulders relax and a grin take hold. The only reason he’d want to rent the bar would be for Ali’s Architectural Digest party he’d heard was in the works—but still hadn’t received an invite to.
If the party was here—at his place—then he wouldn’t need an invite. And she couldn’t avoid him forever. Not that he expected Ali to hide out much longer; Destiny Bay was too small a place to stay hidden.
“Does Ali know that Marty asked?”
Luke didn’t answer; instead he stood and said, “I told Marty you’d call to get the details.”
Hawk handed Luke his bar towel and walked into his office. Even though it was a converted storage room, Hawk had spared nothing when designing his office. Plush leather couch, two flat screens, a custom-made desk for giants—or someone Hawk’s size. It was dark, lush, and had all the comforts of a masculine home.
After the divorce, he’d spent a lot of time in there, planning his business and his new life, making sure to surround himself with things that made him happy. Made him focus on his successes and not his biggest failure. In the beginning, he often favored sleeping on the couch rather than his lonely apartment upstairs.
Hawk sat behind his desk and picked up the phone, dialing Marty. He stretched his long legs out, resting his feet on the desk and leaning back in the chair.
“I hear you’re looking to throw a party,” Hawk said when Marty answered.<
br />
“I am, and before you say no, hear me out,” Marty said. “I need this to go perfectly, and I don’t want to stress out Ali, so I haven’t told her yet, but with the kind of crowd we’re talking about, my place is just too small. I already asked the Moose Lodge, but a celebration needs a toast, I’ve been told, so that won’t do. Your bar is the only place in town that will work.”
“Why would I say no?” Hawk asked, picturing the look on Ali’s face when she learned that he’d managed to get his invite after all. “We’re like family, Marty. I’d be honored to help out.”
“Well, I just assumed after the other night, you wouldn’t be open to the idea,” Marty finally said.
“Not only am I open to it, I’m giving you my personal promise that it will be the perfect party.”
After dinner the other night, Ali deserved that much. Sure, she would be uncomfortable at first; she’d hate having the attention on her. But Hawk knew what she liked, really thought he was the guy to find a nice balance between letting her feel celebrated and letting her feel understood. But mostly he thought about that kiss.
Shit.
“You always were a stand-up guy, Hawk,” Marty said and Hawk wanted to laugh. “And if it were up to me, I’d be toasting you at the party instead of that Silicon Valley smarm.”
Hawk froze. “You’re inviting Bridget and Assha—um, Jamie to the party?”
Hawk didn’t know how Ali would feel about that. But he had a feeling her response would be similar to his. A hard, Fuck no!
“I know, seems odd inviting the groom to a shower, but Bridget told me that co-ed is what she wants, and what do I know about showers?” Marty laughed, but Hawk could hear the uncertainty in his friend’s voice. “I’m not sure if she’ll ask me to walk her down the aisle, or have one of her stepdads do the honor again, but I feel damn lucky that she asked me to throw her an engagement shower. Here in Destiny Bay.”
Understanding wrapped around Hawk’s neck like a noose, holding him hostage, and knowing that it would only pull tighter and tighter as the event closed in. Because watching Bridget and Asshat sharing secret smiles, and stealing private kisses, was going to leave a mark.
