Page 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

ELI

“Relationships last forever.”

“Not all relationships,” I snark at Becca, unable to help the jab after what she just said.

Sarah cocks her head. “Honey, that’s depressing. Why would you even say that?”

I grab her hand, kissing the back and placing it on my knee.

Forever.

The realization hits me like a freight train that, once I marry Sarah, there is no going back. It will be us, every day, forever . It doesn’t fill me with excitement. Not the way it should.

I care about her, though. She’s been exactly what I’ve needed the past few years and the type of woman Ma would have wanted for me. But for the first time, I feel selfish in asking her to be my wife.

Regardless, I wasn’t talking about the relationship I have with Sarah. My words weren’t meant for her.

Becca swallows and turns her face to the side, biting on her lip, I’m sure to keep that infuriating mouth of hers in check. Annoyance pricks my insides that I’m not getting the reaction I want.

She walks toward her father’s desk, stepping behind it, her hands hovering over the top. Shaking her head, she glances up. Her eyes are swimming in something vulnerable—a look I’ve only seen one other time—the day we skipped our lesson after the phone call with her mom.

Just like then, I want to sweep away her sadness.

And that pisses me off more than her mouth ever has.

“Can y’all…” She clears her throat. “Do y’all mind if we move this to a different area?” She glances at the desk again and grimaces, stepping farther away.

My eyes narrow, trying to figure out what her problem is.

Sarah smiles, jumping from her seat. “Lead the way.”

She links their arms and Becca stiffens, her eyes growing round as she glances back at me and then down at their crisscrossed elbows. I smirk, pleased with how uncomfortable she seems at Sarah’s friendliness.

We walk to a conference room off the hall and settle in at one of the round tables in the corner.

“So, what are y’all thinkin’?” Becca tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, flipping open a notebook and picking up her pen.

I stay quiet because I’m not thinking anything other than getting this fiasco over with and going back to Florida. I’m ready to start the next phase of my life. One that does not include anything here in Sugarlake. The only thing I’m taking with me is the memory of Ma and knowing I’m giving her what she wants. I don’t need any other reminders of this town.

Sarah sighs, patting my knee with her hand. “To be honest, I don’t really have any clue, other than I want it here and I want it in a couple months.”

Becca’s pen skitters on the paper. She peers at me through her lashes before angling her head back down. “A couple months?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to distract from the sting in my chest.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you that on the phone? We want to have the wedding in August. I want to start the next school year as Mrs. Elliot Carson.” Sarah beams, her eyes tender as they meet mine.

I hold her gaze, but I feel the burn of Becca’s stare. My hands grow clammy, and I shift in my chair.

Becca twirls a strand of hair around her fingers, the line between her brows creasing. “Oh, I must have missed that part. I thought y’all were just in town to scout the area.”

Irritation spikes through my veins. We don’t owe her any explanation for how we’re doing things.

“Nope,” I interject. “More of a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of thing. Being here once is more than enough. Too much, really. I’m surprised you don’t agree.”

Sarah’s elbow nudges my side, and I lift my shoulders, my brows rising.

“What? I’m just saying.”

Becca’s eyes laser into me. “Who says I don’t agree?”

I huff out a laugh. “You tell me. You’re the one living here.”

“You don’t have to love a place to live there.”

“True.” I rub my chin. “If you loved it, you’d probably leave.”

Sarah’s hand clamps down on my knee, and I jerk from the pressure, glancing at her. Her face is frozen in a pinched smile, her gaze full of questions. I don’t bother pacifying her, my eyes already drawn back to Becca, needing to see her reaction.

Becca’s nostrils flare, the fire I used to love about her raging on her cheeks.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, the energy building until it spreads to my chest.

Becca’s eyes become slits. “Mighty presumptuous of you to think you know anything about what I love.”

Sarah laughs, her hand finally easing off my knee. “Jeez, you two fight like siblings.”

My gut jolts from her words.

“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you grow up with someone whose main purpose in life is to piss you off.” Becca smiles sweetly.

“Please.” I scoff. “You weren’t even a thought back then. Maybe if I had given you some attention, you wouldn’t have a father who sees you as the town bicycle.”

My heartache spews like vitriolic acid, hoping to eat away her cold exterior and show me the woman underneath. I ache to see her—to know if she still exists. To find out if she ever really did.

“Eli,” Sarah gasps.

Becca’s smile drops, her body hunching like my words are a physical blow against her chest.

The sour taste of what I said sits in the back of my throat, making me feel like I might puke. I suck my teeth to keep from apologizing.

This is why I need to leave here as soon as possible. She makes me lose complete control, and I don’t want this shit in my life, all of these emotions I have no use for.

Becca clears her throat, blinking rapidly to stem the tears teasing the corner of her eyes. “Well, we all have our place in this town, I guess.” She lifts a shoulder. “I’m the town bicycle, and you’re the disgraced hero, too ashamed to show his face, even to the ghost of his momma.”

The chasm in my chest widens, rupturing my heart and leaving a throbbing pain in its absence.

Bitch.

Shame ignites my veins for the way I am. For the fear that keeps me from things I know I need to face. For the failure of not being the man I was raised to be.

The air grows thick, Becca’s words mixing with my fucked-up emotions and sticking to my skin. How is it the girl who should mean nothing is the one to see through to my core when the one I’ve promised my forever to hasn’t even peeled a layer?

Sarah laughs, a light, tinkling noise. “Well, this is awkward. I feel like putting you guys in time-out or telling you to kiss and make up.”

My stomach leaps at her words, my eyes searing into Becca’s.

She looks away, focusing on Sarah, her eyes softening. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m bein’ so unprofessional and it’s not what you deserve. I really do want to give y’all a good ceremony, even if your choice in husband is questionable at best.”

My muscles tense. “Nice. Super professional.”

“To know him is to love him.” Sarah grabs my hand, linking our fingers. “You know, Becca…we were hoping you could be convinced to help with everything, not just the ceremony.”

My stomach drops, my face flying to Sarah’s. “We were?”

Her smile tightens as she peers at me. “Yep.”

Becca’s shaking her head, her eyes wide. “Oh, no I…I really don’t know the first thing about weddin’s.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Sarah waves her off. “I don’t need you to know about weddings. As long as you know the town and where to go to get what we need. Please say you’ll help. We’ll pay you, of course.”

I look at my lap to hide the way my teeth grind. I had no idea Sarah was planning this. There’s no way I want Becca spending more time than necessary with my fiancée, planning my wedding.

“How much?” Becca asks.

I snap my head up. The hell? My gut squeezes, shocked that she’s actually considering this.

“However much you want.” Sarah smiles. “You’d really be doing us a favor.”

Becca’s eyes are calculating, bouncing back and forth between us as she twists her curls in her fingers. She blows out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll do it.”

My heart catapults from my chest.

She never really cared, and that fact is more than obvious. Because even after all this time, after everything she’s done, I could never stand by and watch her marry someone else. And I sure as shit wouldn’t help make it happen.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, sending a tingle down my leg. I pull it out, planning to silence the call, but the number is one I recognize.

It’s one I dialed this morning.

“Excuse me, ladies. I have to take this.”

Becca doesn’t even acknowledge me. Sarah gives me a weird look, but I’ll explain it to her later, right after she tells me what the hell she’s thinking, hiring Becca as our wedding planner.

I leave the room, walking down the hallway and pushing through the front doors.

Taking a deep breath, my heart ramming against my chest cavity, I answer.