by Regina Cole
Making a mental note to kick Ace’s ass later, Trey spoke. “Is that what you want?”
Ginger glanced back at Brian and then toward the bikers again. “Well, a real wedding would be nice, but we can’t really afford it. We decided it’d be better just to go to the courthouse and get it taken care of sooner rather than later.”
An idea sparked then. The glimmer of a notion that, once it had taken hold, built into a towering blaze of a thought that couldn’t be denied.
Part of the problem with this Iron Knot Wedding Planners idea was that they’d never done anything like this before. Jameson had been barely more than a kid when he’d gotten married, and his ex-wife’s mother had done the whole thing. Ginger wanted a wedding but couldn’t afford it. These roughneck bastards needed experience planning a wedding, and Trey could definitely afford a small event to give them the practice.
“Hey,” he said, stepping close to Ginger, “let me talk to you alone a moment.”
“Sure,” Ginger said, and Trey steered her toward the empty end of the bar. Brian shot him a glare that clearly was a warning, but Trey only nodded politely at the bartender before leaning close to Ginger and pitching his voice low.
“What if I told you I could give you a small wedding? Would you be down with that?”
Ginger’s eyes went wide. “What? Trey, why would you do that?”
“Long story. Think you can trust me?”
Chapter Seven
Sarah’s apartment was decorated in the most calming shades of blue, gray, and white, and it always made Bethany feel as if she’d just taken a deep breath. But today, that cool and calming atmosphere wasn’t doing as much to keep her chilled out as normal. She’d made the two-hour drive up to Virginia to see her best friend on a whim, and at the moment, it looked like a good thing she’d done so. Bethany had needed the break from the so-far-fruitless online job search, and Sarah… Well, Sarah wasn’t handling things well.
“I just don’t understand it,” she said as she paced in front of the balcony doors. Bethany was sitting on the little slip chair in the corner, a glass of iced tea on the modern round table between the chair and its partner. “He just comes from out of nowhere, and now Mom wants him to plan the wedding. This is… I don’t know what to think.”
“She said she was using it as time to get to know him,” Bethany said, leaning forward. “On one hand, I get that. But on the other, how does it make sense that a guy like him does wedding planning?”
“Ugh,” Sarah said, sinking into the other chair. “I don’t need this. My residency is almost over, I’ve got to prep for the NAPLEX, and Mark is worried that our wedding will turn into Sturgis Bike Week.” Sarah looked over at Bethany. “You’re my favorite person, you know. If not for you running interference, my life would be a total mess right now.”
“I’m at a loose end, and you’re going in seven different directions. It makes sense that I step in to help. Besides, right now the only places that are hiring are fast-food joints and nursing homes, neither of which really fits what I’m looking for.” Bethany reached over and hugged her friend. “Tell Mark not to worry. I’m going to make sure that your wedding is the best, without a single Harley in sight.”
“I know. You’re awesome.” Sarah took a sip of her water, and Bethany followed her gaze out the sliding glass doors.
It was a gray day, slightly drizzly and cool. The spring winds were whipping the young foliage of the trees back and forth like tiny flags. All too soon, the weather would turn hot, the flowers would open, and spring winds would turn into summer breezes.
Wedding season.
“It’s not…” Sarah started, then set her water down and tried again. “It’s not that I don’t want to get to know him. I do. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life hearing about this baby that was born and disappeared a full four years before I was even conceived. I used to imagine what it would be like to have my big brother here. But Dad always told me that he died, and that Mom was just not willing to face the loss. I’d figured Dad was right. And now?” Sarah shook her head.
“My mom is fawning all over a person that I have no relationship with, and I don’t know how to reconcile that with what I’ve always believed, DNA or not. Dad isn’t… Dad isn’t here anymore. I can’t ask him. I’m not sure what I should do, if I should see Trey or whatever. Talk to him. But I—I kind of want to. You know, on my own. Without Mom.”
“Hey,” Bethany said, taking her best friend’s hand. God, she hated to see Sarah—bubbly, confident Sarah, who always had an answer for everything, who was never at a loss for anything ever—feel like this. “This affects you on a personal level. It’s not just about your mom. It’s about you too.”
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”
Bethany drew a brow up in a credulous smile. “I never said that.”
They both laughed, and Bethany drew her cell from her pocket.
“I’ve got his number. I grabbed it from Mama Yelverton so I could contact him about the invitations. Do you want me to call him and see if you guys can set up a phone call? Get to know each other?”
“Would you?” Sarah bit her lip. “Oh God. Really, I just don’t know. Do I even have enough mental energy to deal with this right now?”
“That’s up to you,” Bethany said gently, her phone screen still dark in her hand. “I won’t push you either way. But if you want me to, I’ll call.”
Closing her eyes, Sarah took a deep breath. Bethany wished so hard she could take this burden too. This was something Sarah had to face on her own. But Bethany would be there, as close as she could, every step of the way.
“Call him. Please.”
The phone was at Bethany’s ear a split second later.
Three rings. Four. Bethany was afraid that voicemail would kick in, but then the call connected.
There was a crackling and rustling sound in the background, as if paper was being crumpled up. Gruff male voices were arguing—shouting, actually.
“—get some damn scissors that are big enough for my hands! Where did you get these, kindergarten?”
“They’re safety scissors, you idiot. You want Lynn’s kids to have gashes from hedge clippers? Bring your own next time. Now cut out that flower before I rip your—”
“Shut your flapping pieholes, I’ve got a phone call!”
Bethany had to bite her lip to keep the stunned laughter from escaping.
“Harding,” Trey bit out as the arguing continued, fading into the background as if he’d stepped away.
“Trey? It’s Bethany Jernigan.”
“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and rumbly like his bike’s engine. God, it shouldn’t do things to her, but it did. “What can I do for you?”
Sarah shifted in her seat, and Bethany snapped back to the present.
“I was calling for Sarah. Your…” She coughed. “Your sister. She wanted to know if you had some time to talk sometime soon. Kind of get to know each other.”
“Boss! You need to yank your boy’s leash. He’s screwing up my invites. I told him I was using—”
“Ace, I swear to God, I will end you if you don’t shut up right now.” Trey’s voice was suddenly muffled as if he’d tried to cover the mouthpiece and hadn’t quite managed it. A snort escaped Bethany, and Sarah gave her a look. She shook her head and kept listening.
“That would be nice, but I don’t really have time over the next few days. We’ve got a wedding we’re doing this weekend. So maybe next week.”
“Oh,” Bethany said, blinking. “Really? You’ve got another client?”
“Sure do,” Trey said shortly, as if her question had gotten beneath his skin. “The Dutmers-Carlisle wedding. Give Sarah my number, and we can text about setting up a call.”
“Sure,” Bethany said. “Will do.”
The call ended, and as Bethany’s hand
fell to her lap, Sarah tilted her head in question.
“Well?”
Bethany’s forehead furrowed as she looked at the dark phone screen.
“He’s got another wedding. I don’t believe it. Man, I have got to see that.”
* * *
By the time Ginger’s wedding day had rolled around, Trey was stunned that he hadn’t landed himself in jail. Or the rest of the Shadows in the hospital.
“Where the hell is the bride?” Flash was saying, red-faced and blustering as he waved around a veil. “I’ve been gluing flowers to this thing all morning, and she’s going to wear it come hell or high water.”
“I told you, the bride is the boss, and this is her day. She said no veil. Now put that piece of crap in the garbage where it belongs and help me with this bow tie.” Dean was towering above Brian in the back room of Ruby’s, the bartender looking nervous as Dean’s hands worked at Brian’s throat. Trey wasn’t sure whether the expression was because of the impending nuptials or because Dean could quite easily snap Brian’s neck if he chose to.
Probably the matrimonial noose.
Flash moaned and complained, but he tossed the veil aside and took over from Dean.
“What’s our status?” Trey asked as Dean accompanied him from the room.
“Bride is dressed, maid of honor’s helping with makeup. Kids are under control. Groom’s almost done. Best man showed up in a goddamn Bud Light tee. Ace has got him handled.”
“Good,” Trey said, smoothing his damp palms down his darkest jeans. He was going to have to get some better clothes before Sarah’s wedding. Couldn’t keep borrowing Dean’s threads. Besides, his shirts weren’t quite large enough. Dean was already whining about the popped threads across the shoulders of the gray button-down.
“What the hell are those?” Trey glared down at the raggedy bundle of flowers atop the bar.
“It’s a bouquet,” Hawk said, tying a lopsided bow in the piece of yellow ribbon he’d wrapped around them.
“It looks like you picked them from a ditch.”
“I did,” Hawk said, and Trey had to grit his teeth to keep from biting the idiot’s head off.
“Where is Jameson? He’s in charge of flowers. Jameson!”
“Don’t worry, Boss,” Jameson said as he entered the bar. He held a big cardboard box full of bright yellow and pink flowers. “I stopped at the grocery store. Stargazer lilies and daisies.”
“Much better,” Trey said, then pinned Hawk with a point and a death glare. “Don’t even think about trying to give anyone those.”
Trey moved through the space. Despite the hiccups, they were fairly on schedule. Guests would be arriving soon, and—
The door to Ruby’s opened. A figure appeared, silhouetted by late-afternoon sunlight. Trey blinked, and blinked again. It was hard to see who it was until the door swung shut.
Slim. Female. Long, blond hair styled into beautiful, loose waves. Elfin features, blue eyes. Ah, hell.
“Bethany,” he said, smiling tightly even as his insides shouted to get her the hell out of there. “What are you doing here? It’s a long way from Southwater.”
“Wanted to give my congratulations to the happy couple.” Bethany held a gift bag aloft. “I know it’s bad manners to crash a wedding, but I brought a gift. I just couldn’t stop myself from seeing what kind of event you were capable of putting on. Is that okay?”
Nope. Nuh-uh. Not even a little bit.
“Sure,” he said through gritted teeth, then held a hand out to where the wooden chairs had been set up in rows facing the bar, each with a fluffy, white bow on the end. Lynn had tied those after shaking her head at Rocco’s efforts. “Please, have a seat.”
Bethany smiled at him, an expression that made his insides roar and sit up in expectation at the same time. God, that girl turned him inside out. But for her to show up here? Now?
Her timing was shit. Or much too good. Either way, he was almost definitely screwed.
“Boss, the cake’s got a problem.”
Mac had appeared from the small kitchen at the back of the place, his clothes covered in flour and smears of pale green. Probably more of Doc’s Watergate salad.
A pounding began behind Trey’s temples as he turned to walk toward the kitchen and address the latest disaster. Before he could leave, Bethany raised her hand and gave a little wave.
He couldn’t worry about her right now. He had a long line of disasters to handle.
* * *
The cake wasn’t too bad, but the appetizers were a total nightmare. Trey’d had to threaten to take Stone out back and pound the life out of him before he’d give up on the Ritz crackers, peanut butter, and pickle idea. Once Trey had established—again—that Doc was in charge of catering, and that his word was as good as Trey’s, he’d had to calm down a six-year-old who’d gotten dirt on her fancy dress. Once he’d passed her off to Hawk, who was much better with little kids than he was with picking flowers, Trey was able to hunt down the preacher. Who’d gone to the wrong bar, nearly twenty minutes away.
Disaster after disaster was piling up at Trey’s feet, and he wanted to torch the place to the ground, especially because Bethany was witnessing these spectacular failures. Mrs. Yelverton was sure to hear about all this. He was not the kind of son she’d want. He couldn’t even put together a twenty-guest wedding in a dive bar, for God’s sake.
“Do you, Brian, take Ginger to be your lawful wedded wife?”
Trey looked toward the front of the room. Somehow, while he’d been so preoccupied with everything, the wedding had started. Ginger was beautiful, radiant in a short, white dress with a pale-pink bow at the base of her spine, her strawberry hair in loose curls secured at the base of her neck. Brian looked terrified and proud as a peacock at the same time as he nodded and said, “I do.”
Lynn and her two older girls were dressed in the same pink as the bride’s bow, the little ones standing proudly with the tiny bouquets that Jameson had made them. He hadn’t been able to give them to them, though. He’d bailed as soon as the kids appeared. Being near them was too painful for him with the memory of his daughter’s death. Especially with the new baby being cuddled and shushed by Ruby in the back of the room.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The guests erupted into cheers as Brian kissed Ginger, a long, deep embrace that added the cherry to the top of the ceremony. Trey’s quick glance at Bethany revealed that she was smiling, even though she didn’t know the happy couple from Adam.
There, Trey thought, a little smug. There had been bumps in the road, but things had gone off well in the end. Maybe now she’d believe that he really was a good wedding pla—
“Baby Got Back” rocked through the room, loud enough to shake the windows in their frames. The music thumping through the bar’s speakers startled a laugh from the crowd but shot a bolt of pure rage from Trey. He vaulted the corner of the table that served as a DJ booth in the back of the room, but he wasn’t close enough to catch Ace.
“Sorry, Boss, couldn’t resist!”
By the time Trey’d found the right buttons to cut the music, it was too late. Ginger and Brian had boogied back down the aisle to Sir Mix-A-Lot, and Ace had hopped on his bike to take a few laps while Trey cooled off.
Bethany was laughing, her blue eyes sparkling as she joined the rest of the guests milling around and congratulating the happy couple.
God, he was going to murder Ace. But damn if Bethany wasn’t beautiful when she smiled.
Chapter Eight
Showing up uninvited to a wedding was definitely up there as one of the rudest things she’d ever done, but Bethany couldn’t help but be glad she’d done it.
Trey’s operation was obviously a fly-by-night proposition. A wedding at a bar? With the weirdest hors d’oeuvres she’d ever seen. The drinks were g
ood, thankfully. She’d needed a stiff one to wash down the shrimp and orange slice on a mini bagel that had been pressed into her hand by a huge, tattooed guy who’d introduced himself as Stone.
And then there were Wolf and Doc and Flash. Every one of them huge, mean, tattooed, and working there. She’d thought she might have stumbled into some kind of comic book.
But Trey was there, standing in the back, huge arms crossed over his barrel chest, surveying the proceedings like a king looking over his lands. He barked orders like a general, ordering those burly dudes around like they were kids. And when he said jump, every one of them did.
If she hadn’t been so convinced he was out to screw over her favorite people in the world, she would have been impressed. As it was, the reception was winding down, and she intended to have a very serious conversation with Mr. Harding.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping up to him. “I was hoping I could have a word with you if you’re not busy.”
“It’s not really the best time,” he said, his jaw working as he watched a guy slink in through the back door. “Ace, I see you.”
She recognized the newcomer. He was the one who’d played “Baby Got Back” at the end of the ceremony and then disappeared. With the way Trey was eyeing him now, it looked like that was the last prank Ace might ever pull.
“Sorry, Boss. I’ve promised the bride this dance.” Ace snagged the bride, who’d been laughing with a guest, and twirled her out into the middle of the floor, which had been cleared of chairs to make room for dancing.
Trey glowered, then shook his head. “I’ll kill him later. Come on.”
Bethany followed him out into the night. This far out in the country, the stars twinkled brightly. Crickets chirped, the low thump of music from inside muffled by the closing door.
Gravel crunched under Bethany’s shoes as she followed Trey a short distance from the building, around the corner to a concrete pad that held a good dozen-plus motorcycles.
