Page 50
Story: A Sip of Sherry
“Then Ben roped us in to helping his hungover ass.”
Hungover.Interesting.
“Rose had a bridal shower today, so I’m just hanging out and saw my brute strength was needed.Couldn’t deny a man in need,” Wyatt said.“Though, he didn’t let me finish my coffee, and I take that as a personal offense.”
“Another bridal shower?”I asked, my eyes on Ben until he finally looked at me.His usual smirk was gone.The charm that radiated from him on most days was dim.He didn’t say anything, and honestly, he looked like shit.His hair was a disheveled mess, eyes bloodshot, and his normally sharp and confident jaw was tight and filled with tension.Of course, he still looked good, and I hated myself for noticing.
“We hit thirty, and they haven’t stopped.Every weekend it’s something.A shower, a brunch, a fitting, a bachelorette thing.”Wyatt sighed.“I know weddings are your bread and butter, but what a waste of money.I love Rose to death, but we don’t need a big show to prove our love or a piece of paper to make it real.”
“For some people it might be about proof, but most just want to share their love with their loved ones.”
“We share our love with you guys all the time,” Wyatt added.
“And we wish you wouldn’t.”Rhone smacked him on the back, and Gio nodded in agreement.
My eyes drifted to Ben, who had bent to adjust a chair.The lines around his eyes tightened as if the movement caused him pain.He was definitely hungover, but there was something else.Something had shifted.
Despite it my anger and disappointment, I couldn’t stop wondering what happened to the man who held my hand in the car last night.
He straightened, and I cleared my throat.“Thank you for gathering the troops,” I said.“Now, if you all can get out of here before you sweat on my table linens.”
Franc laughed and swiped his forearm across his brow.“I know those garden ladies.Sweaty men will have them pulling out dollar bills.”
“This is a respectful establishment,” I said.“If they want depravity, they can go to Gold Crest.”
Ben stiffened, his jaw tightening, his hands clenching for a brief second before relaxing.
The others didn’t notice, already laughing at Wyatt, who fired off something about garden club groupies as Rhone made a dramatic exit with Gio on his back like a knight on his steed.
But I saw it.
Maybe his hangover was really starting to kick his ass.Good.
He went to walk past me, and I met his gaze.
“Are you just going to ignore me now?”
“I’m not ignoring you,” he said.“I’m just doing exactly what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?”
“To keep me—us—a secret.”
“That was before I agreed to go out to dinner with you.Before you opened up to me about your family.Before you looked me in the eye and made me think this”—I motioned between us—“was real.”
Something flickered in his eyes—regret, disappointment, I wasn’t really sure.“Yeah, well… maybe that was my mistake.”
The weight of his words slapped me, and I stumbled.“You know what?”I found my strength, digging deep and clinging to it.“I don’t know what happened last night, but I know damn well it had nothing to do with me or us.You’re hiding something from me.”
His jaw ticked, and I knew I hit a nerve.
He ran his hand over his face, the tension evident in the jerky movement.“You’re right.You didn’t do anything wrong.It’s me.”
Unable to help myself, I reached for his hand, taking it in my own and squeezing it gently.“What is it?Tell me.Please.”I didn’t want to beg, but once he opened up to me, let me in, we could figure this out.
He yanked his hand free of mine.“I can’t.”He closed his eyes for a second as if trying to find his calm in a sea of chaos.A major contrast to the serene setting around us.
“Ben?”
Hungover.Interesting.
“Rose had a bridal shower today, so I’m just hanging out and saw my brute strength was needed.Couldn’t deny a man in need,” Wyatt said.“Though, he didn’t let me finish my coffee, and I take that as a personal offense.”
“Another bridal shower?”I asked, my eyes on Ben until he finally looked at me.His usual smirk was gone.The charm that radiated from him on most days was dim.He didn’t say anything, and honestly, he looked like shit.His hair was a disheveled mess, eyes bloodshot, and his normally sharp and confident jaw was tight and filled with tension.Of course, he still looked good, and I hated myself for noticing.
“We hit thirty, and they haven’t stopped.Every weekend it’s something.A shower, a brunch, a fitting, a bachelorette thing.”Wyatt sighed.“I know weddings are your bread and butter, but what a waste of money.I love Rose to death, but we don’t need a big show to prove our love or a piece of paper to make it real.”
“For some people it might be about proof, but most just want to share their love with their loved ones.”
“We share our love with you guys all the time,” Wyatt added.
“And we wish you wouldn’t.”Rhone smacked him on the back, and Gio nodded in agreement.
My eyes drifted to Ben, who had bent to adjust a chair.The lines around his eyes tightened as if the movement caused him pain.He was definitely hungover, but there was something else.Something had shifted.
Despite it my anger and disappointment, I couldn’t stop wondering what happened to the man who held my hand in the car last night.
He straightened, and I cleared my throat.“Thank you for gathering the troops,” I said.“Now, if you all can get out of here before you sweat on my table linens.”
Franc laughed and swiped his forearm across his brow.“I know those garden ladies.Sweaty men will have them pulling out dollar bills.”
“This is a respectful establishment,” I said.“If they want depravity, they can go to Gold Crest.”
Ben stiffened, his jaw tightening, his hands clenching for a brief second before relaxing.
The others didn’t notice, already laughing at Wyatt, who fired off something about garden club groupies as Rhone made a dramatic exit with Gio on his back like a knight on his steed.
But I saw it.
Maybe his hangover was really starting to kick his ass.Good.
He went to walk past me, and I met his gaze.
“Are you just going to ignore me now?”
“I’m not ignoring you,” he said.“I’m just doing exactly what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?”
“To keep me—us—a secret.”
“That was before I agreed to go out to dinner with you.Before you opened up to me about your family.Before you looked me in the eye and made me think this”—I motioned between us—“was real.”
Something flickered in his eyes—regret, disappointment, I wasn’t really sure.“Yeah, well… maybe that was my mistake.”
The weight of his words slapped me, and I stumbled.“You know what?”I found my strength, digging deep and clinging to it.“I don’t know what happened last night, but I know damn well it had nothing to do with me or us.You’re hiding something from me.”
His jaw ticked, and I knew I hit a nerve.
He ran his hand over his face, the tension evident in the jerky movement.“You’re right.You didn’t do anything wrong.It’s me.”
Unable to help myself, I reached for his hand, taking it in my own and squeezing it gently.“What is it?Tell me.Please.”I didn’t want to beg, but once he opened up to me, let me in, we could figure this out.
He yanked his hand free of mine.“I can’t.”He closed his eyes for a second as if trying to find his calm in a sea of chaos.A major contrast to the serene setting around us.
“Ben?”
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