Page 34 of Moonlight & Matrimony (Oak Ridge #2)

Just then, Liam strides over to our table, throwing back one of the remaining shots along with Cade.

Liam’s presence has always been somewhat intimidating.

He’s at least four inches taller than everyone else and if I didn’t know him, I’d think he was an asshole, but he’s one of the nicest guys I know, and he’s an amazing dad, too.

It helps that his son is one of Rylin’s best friends, despite their three-year age difference.

Aidan is like the big brother Rylin never had.

“Did the judge hand Austin his ass?” Liam asks.

Luca narrows his eyes at where Liam has placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his face set in a stern expression reminding me of the grumpy neighbor I met all those weeks ago.

Has it been three months already? It seems like just yesterday I was knocking down his door, ready to rain hell down on him for waking me.

“It wasn’t as dramatic as that. It was just a slap on the wrist, at best.” I roll my eyes, leaning my head on Luca’s shoulder.

“Well fuck. I hope he gets what's coming to him,” Liam says.

“Yeah. Me too,” Paige agrees, a look I’ve never seen before crossing her features. Something protective, almost feral, and I snort when I realize the alcohol is probably clouding her judgment, allowing her inner introvert to retreat.

Cade chuckles, kissing Paige on the forehead. “I think it’s time to get my girl home before she gets murderous,” he says.

“Don’t be a party pooper, Daddy Cade,” Miles scoffs.

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, did I not moan loudly enough while I said it? Maybe Paige can give me a demo.”

“Fuck, Miles. Are you trying to get your ass kicked?” Luca asks. “C’mon, man. We’ll grab an Uber and you can sleep at my place.”

“Fine,” Miles grumbles, downing the last shot before stomping toward the exit.

Luca

Cade looked like he was about two seconds from diving across the table to plow his fist into Miles’ face.

I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Miles has always been quick with a joke, but it’s usually harmless; this is something completely different.

I haven’t known him as long as the rest of the crew has, but we’ve grown close over the past year.

He interviewed me for the position before I even made the final decision to move here, and he helped me get my work visa.

This feels completely out of character from the carefree guy I’m used to.

As soon as the Uber pulls up outside of our house, I motion for Ivy to stay put.

She had a few more shots than I did and I suspect she’s a little past tipsy at this point.

My feisty girl lets out an exasperated huff and reaches for the door, but before she can get there, I clasp her chin in my hand.

“Don’t be a brat or I’ll have to take you over my knee.

” She moans, and a single look from her has me hardening.

I release her from my grip, taking in the heated look in her eyes, then step out of the car, nodding my thanks to our driver before adjusting myself in my jeans and crossing over to the passenger side.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

“Uh, dude. I think you’re forgetting something.” I follow the driver’s gaze towards the front seat where Miles is out cold. Fuck my life.

“Sorry, man. Give me a second to get my girl inside and I’ll come back for this knucklehead.”

He nods, giving me the ok to take care of my girl first.

“I can walk.”

Ignoring her protests, I take her hand and help her up the porch steps, guiding her into the living room on wobbly legs. As I carefully lay her head on the pillow, I’m unable to resist the urge to gently kiss her forehead. It’s almost instinctual now.

“Stay here. Please.” Her eyes are already heavily lidded, so I don’t think I have to worry about her running off and hurting herself, but I intend to make quick work of getting Miles inside just in case.

When I step back outside, Miles is already standing on the sidewalk.

He doesn’t appear to be drunk, and I’m grateful I won't have to carry him.

“You good?” I ask.

Miles seats himself at the top of the stairs, running his hands through his blonde hair. “Yeah. Just fucking exhausted. You didn’t have to bring me here. I could’ve gone home.”

I shrug. “Saved us an Uber, and it seemed like you could use a friend to talk to.”

“I don’t know, man.” He shakes his head, staring out at the skyline.

Hoping to reassure him, I add, “If it helps, I’m a vault. Whatever you say stays between us.”

“Yeah. Ok.”

“Beer?”

“Don’t you have to take care of your wife?” There’s a familiar glint of mischief on his face and it's good to see not all is lost.

“I’ll check on her while I grab our beers, but she was half asleep on the couch already.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

I walk back into the living room, checking on my girl, who is, as I suspected, passed out with her mouth hanging open.

She’s so beautiful, even like this. Her braid has come undone, several pieces falling over her forehead; I can’t help but reach out and tuck them behind her ear.

After what was an exhausting day, I’m certain she’ll sleep soundly tonight.

“Goodnight,” I whisper, placing another soft kiss to her temple before I drag her favorite throw blanket over her delectable body, remembering every fucking time she touched me tonight, wishing I could wake her with my head between her thighs and watch her come undone.

The memory of her pulling away from me after the last time I had my mouth on her resurfaces, and it’s like a bucket of ice water, chilling me to my bones.

It’s best if I focus on something else. Besides, my friend seems to be in crisis and at least that’s something I might be able to help him with.

I snag a couple of beers from the fridge, then head back out to the porch.

Taking a seat on the opposite side of the railing.

Mirroring Miles, I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees.

“Ok. So what’s got the great Miles Barlow all twisted up?”

“There’s a girl…”

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“Fuck off. Do you want me to tell you or not?”

“Sorry.” I pick at the soggy label on my beer, listening intently as he tells me about this woman he’s been pining over.

“She’s fucking amazing, man. Gorgeous, smart, feisty as fuck.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“There’s a laundry list of them, starting with the fact that she can’t stand me.”

That’s when it clicks. He’s talking about Maggie. The plot thickens. Instead of calling him out on his obvious skirting of the truth, I gesture for him to continue.

“It’s so fucking complicated. Like, epic levels of fucked up. I haven’t been with anyone in months because I’m not interested in anyone else, and that’s the fucking problem.”

I let the silence stretch for a moment, considering what to say next, deciding to go with the simplest option. “Have you told her how you feel?”

“Have you told Ivy how you feel?” His deflection is expected, but it still catches me somewhat off guard.

“We’re not talking about me. And I’m just helping Ivy with her piece of shit ex husband. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he scoffs, downing the last of his beer in one pull.

“Listen, I know a thing or two about falling for the wrong person. It’s not worth it, man. You either need to tell her how you feel, or let her go and move on,” I say, giving him a little more of my story than I intended.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“Or he could just tell Maggie he’s obsessed with her and they can fuck it out of their systems,” Ivy interjects, plopping her ass down on the step between Miles and me.

“Maggie? No idea who that is,” Miles says, standing from the steps and swiping his palms over his jeans. “I’m gonna head in. You sure it’s cool if I crash here?”

“Yeah, no problem. Bathroom is down the hall and to the right. The closet across the hall has some extra pillows and blankets.”

“Thanks,” he says before heading inside. The gentle snick of the door closing is the only sound as I’m left alone on the stairs with my wife.

“I thought you were sleeping, sweetheart.”

“Nope. But thanks for tucking me in.”

“Anytime.”

“So Miles has it bad for Mags, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Ivy scoots closer to me on the step, her hip bumping mine.

Then she leans over, resting her head on my shoulder.

The smell of her floral shampoo washes over me, and it’s the comfort I didn’t know I needed.

Her focus is locked on the sky, no doubt taking in the almost full moon, clear and bright, not a cloud to be seen.

The stars dotting the sky are an echo of the freckles that cascade along her nose and forehead, and for a moment I wonder if she knows I’m staring.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“Yeah. It is.”

Luca, 1 year ago

Finding out my little sister ran off to Kentucky to marry a rich bartender was not on my bingo card, but here we are. It’s a quiet Friday night in my hometown, and instead of going out like every other 30-something, I’m sitting at home, scrolling through social media.

Mom and I are driving a U-Haul down to Kentucky in a few weeks and I’m hoping it’ll be the vacation I need to jumpstart my life again.

My personal life has been stagnant ever since Sienna walked out of that restaurant.

And now that their favorite verbal punching bag is no longer within arm’s reach, my parents haven’t wasted any time reminding me just how much of a disappointment I’ve become.

Distracted by my thoughts, I almost miss it as I scroll by a post from a mutual friend — a photo of Sienna in a wedding dress, her smile as bright as it had been on our anniversary 1 year ago, but now she’s standing beside a man I don’t recognize.

In another picture, she’s holding a baby.

The sight of it is a painful jolt to my already battered heart.

The betrayal is unexpected, not just because she’s moved on, but because it’s clear now that our entire relationship had been a lie.

All the plans — the dreams, the promises — were nothing but carefully crafted illusions leaving me drowning in the wreckage of a future that had been plucked from my fingertips.