Page 4 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)
Chapter Three
TIA
Running around like a chicken with its head cut off has me fanning my underarms in a desperate attempt to avoid sweat stains in this dress. I scan the room, mentally ticking off every detail.
Twinkly lights? Check. Flowers? Check. Music? Flowing. With a satisfied smile, I give myself a little pat on the back.
Not bad for just a few hours of chaos.
The second we landed at the airport, it was a mad dash to get into town and pull this whole thing together. Meanwhile, Logan had one job.
One.
Get the bride and groom here on time. And right now?
He’s definitely not holding up his end of the bargain.
Tia
Lo, where the hell are you? People are starting to show. You better not be late!
Logan
I’m pretty sure my man is occupied at the moment.
Tia
What? What does that even mean?
Logan
It means, my guy is getting a wedding night preview.
Tia
WTF! They have to be here in ten minutes! Go get them!!
Logan
T! I tried! I walked in on them mid fingers in and D kicked me out.
Tia
Omg EW! They couldn’t just wait until after the party?!
Logan
Clearly not.
Tia
Where are you now?
Logan
I’m outside his house waiting in the car with a bad case of blue balls.
Tia
You’re so gross.
Logan
I’m only human.
Tia
More like DOG.
Logan
Woof ;)
Tia
You’re such a pain in my ass. Get them here ASAP.
Logan
Woof woof!
Tia
I HATE YOU.
Logan
Love you too :)
“Alright, who’s the guy?”
My shoulders jump as Isabel’s melodic voice croons in my ear. I clutch my phone to my chest on instinct, like she just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
She’s a bombshell type of pretty, with long chestnut waves that cascade down her to the middle of her back, honey skin, and big ol’ blue doe eyes where mischief lives full-time.
Isabel has her tongue in her cheek, giving me a bemused expression. I narrow my gaze at her, placing my phone on the bar top.
“There’s no guy,” I say, trying for nonchalant. But my face heats anyway, like it didn’t get the memo.
Great. Real smooth.
“Bullshit,” nodding her head at my phone. “Do you smile like that for me when I text you?” She raises one eyebrow in question.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Especially when you have something cute to say, unlike now.”
Isabel giggles, pulling me in for a hug. We haven’t seen each other since the summer when we started hanging out more often. After everything with Audrey and her psycho ex-boyfriend, Logan and I spent most of our summer in Oakwood Valley strengthening friendships and staying close to family.
Iz and I got really close. I’ve loved having a fashion designer friend—Isabel owning Lavender Lane Boutique down on Main Street has its perks.
I get discounts on the cutest clothes and shoes, and soon she’ll have her own lingerie line.
It’s been nice for Audrey and I to add another girl to our little gang to break up the testosterone.
Speaking of testosterone—it’s walking toward me looking like three tall drinks of water.
My handsome boys.
I squeal and slip out of Isabel’s hold, hurrying toward Donovan’s little brothers, Wyatt and Kerry, and Kerry’s best friend, Jackson.
Kerry and Wyatt share the same chocolate brown hair, olive skin, and those deep blue eyes that always draw attention—same genetics, completely different energy.
Kerry’s all boyish charm, easy grin and soft edges. The kind of guy who still opens doors without thinking twice.
Wyatt, though? He’s the brooding one. Quiet. Intense. Both arms sleeved in tattoos that make people wonder, but never brave enough to ask.
And then there’s Jackson—buzz cut, sharp jaw, and a smirk that screams trouble. He’s got that whole “I promise I’ll ruin your life, but you’ll enjoy it” thing going on.
I crash into Kerry first as he lifts me in the air, swinging me around once before placing me on my feet. I kiss him on the cheek, doing the same with Wyatt and Jackson, who both give me bone-crushing hugs that make my heart clench.
“Welcome back, T. It looks amazing in here,” Kerry beams, eyes wandering the bar that I’ve successfully turned into a shrine for Audrey and Donovan. I may have gone a little overboard, but those two deserve more than I could ever give them after everything they’ve gone through.
Gold framed pictures of the two of them are scattered throughout the cocktail tables I set up throughout the large open space. A few I set on the bar top itself. Sweet memories live in these photographs, and I hope they make Audrey and Donovan smile when they see them.
“It really does. Doesn’t even look like my bar anymore,” Jackson adds, throwing me a wink. He slinks his way behind the counter, setting up five shot glasses in a row.
The hum of people arriving grabs my attention, and I don’t realize the smile wide on my face until my cheeks ache. My mom and dad walk in with Donovan’s parents, Audrey’s grandfather, and Logan’s dad in tow.
Logan and I had an early morning flight in Austin, getting to California only a few hours ago. I barely had time to roll my suitcase through my parent’s front door, let alone say a proper hello to them.
“Give me a sec, y’all.”
“Y’all,” Kerry mimics in an overdone southern drawl. “She’s been in Texas too long.”
I playfully slap his shoulder and roll my eyes at him. As I walk away, I hear my friends repeating the word y’all like a bunch of annoying seagulls with their exaggerated Texas accents. I don’t have to look over my shoulder as I flip them all off, causing a wave of laughter behind me.
I lock eyes with my dad first, filling my chest with a comforting warmth that I only get from his bright smile. People have always said I have my daddy’s smile. It’s a trait I’m extremely proud to share with him.
I quicken my steps toward them, careful not to trip in these heels. They’re not very tall, but the slim-fitting olive green dress tapers in to restrict my movement just below the knees. It’s classy and sexy, and hugs my curves in all the right places.
“Dad! Mama!” I fly into Dad’s arms first as I bury my nose into the lapels of his jacket. It smells faint of cigars and cardamom, a scent that ties me to my dad no matter where I am. I melt in his arms, squeezing so tight he feigns suffocation, and it makes me giggle.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Looking beautiful, sweetheart.”
I’m launching myself into my mother’s embrace next, squeezing her neck since she’s a lot shorter than me.
I mirror my dad’s stature with his Irish and Scottish roots.
But my olive skin tone, jet-black hair, and eye shape all come from my mama.
I got her grit and attitude too, which made for very fun times growing up while we went head to head.
That’s daughters for ya.
But I’ve been told I’m a perfect combination of the two of them.
“ Sayang ,” my mom coos in her native tongue. She calls me many pet names in Indonesian, but sayang is the most common—and my favorite. The way she says it is like a soft lullaby. I can’t contain my smile as I squeeze her tighter.
“Mama, you look so pretty. I missed you both so much.” I gather them both in my arms, initiating a much-needed group hug.
It’s not until I’m in my parents’ arms that I realize how homesick I am.
Texas has been my home for a long time, but nothing compares to this.
Here in their embrace is the safest place I can be.
“Give me one second,” I tell my parents. “Let me be a good hostess and say hi to everyone.”
Mom and Dad smile as I pull away from their embrace, greeting the guests who walk in.
I give cheek kisses to Donovan’s parents, Grace and Caleb, and a giant bear hug to Audrey’s grandfather, Pop.
Logan’s dad, Chief Harper, compliments my outfit as he spins me in a circle, threatening to arrest anyone who gets too handsy.
He very much holds the effortless charm like his son has in spades.
Over by the bar, I see Wyatt searching for me, waving me over while holding a shot glass in the air.
I trot over to my parents, my smile wide and bright.
“Mom, Dad! Let’s go do a celebratory shot together before our guests of honor get here.” I don’t give them a second to respond before I clasp both of their hands in mine and drag them through the growing crowd to the bar.
A quick glance at my phone shows Logan should be getting here any minute now.
“Jax, pour two here for my parents and three for Auds, D, and Logan once they get here, please!” I shout over the music that’s now flowing through the speakers, picking up the energy of the party.
It’s not your most traditional engagement party—being in a bar and everything—but since they put me in charge, it’s going to be a helluva time.
Jackson pours all the shots, lining them up neatly on the bar. I grab two and hand one to my dad and the other to my mom. Before my mom can grab the glass, my dad is thrusting his hand out to block her, gripping my wrist.
“None for your mother. Not tonight.” His tone is stern, reminding me of the times I’d get in trouble as a kid for staying up too late on the internet.
“I can have one shot with my daughter, Daniel.” Suddenly, I’m a young child watching her parents in a cryptic back and forth. This sort of thing would have flown over the head of seven-year-old Tia, but almost thirty-year-old me catches the strange exchange as my eyes shift between them.
The energy changes, a sudden awkwardness clouding around us. My dad lets go of my wrist, his eyebrows pinching. “Not tonight, honey,” my dad murmurs, his eyes softening as he looks at my mother.
Time hangs between the three of us, almost like everyone is holding their breath. Since I’ve been home this summer, I haven’t really seen my parents interact this way. But then again, most of my time was split between my friends and working remotely. I break through the thick veil of tension.
“Dad, it’s okay. Mama can have one shot with me.”