Page 31
“Alright, so tonight’s not a real rehearsal,” Regan says, raising her glass with a bright smile.
“It’s more of a chance for the brides- and grooms-to-be that we’ve invited to sample the brewery’s food and spirits—what we’ll be offering at the new venue—and to meet the owners.
My family, the Marshalls. And my new husband , Hayes Walker! ”
She gestures toward me with a little flourish and a big smile, and even though it’s all part of the act, it’s the first time she’s said it out loud— my husband.
Yeah, it’s pretend.
But damn if it doesn’t land right in my chest in the best way. A way I thought I’d never enjoy hearing.
I stand taller and smile, offering a calm nod to the cheering crowd. Some of Regan’s brothers are louder than necessary, but Regan beams, and my hand finds its way up and around her shoulders, tucking her tight to my side and planting a kiss onto the top of her head.
“Hey baby,” I whisper in her ear so that no one else can see. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She smiles but doesn’t meet my eye.
Frankly, if I were to get really married, this would be it.
A down-home, everyone’s-invited kind of celebration, with friends and family buzzing around.
Molly sidles up to Regan, chatting about some last-minute flower change, and pulls her away, leaving me standing alone, leaning back on the bar taking the whole scene in.
The bartender slides a drink across the counter, catching my eye.
“You look like you need this, man.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, tipping the glass and taking in the scene.
I grew up with two siblings, well, half-siblings, but it was nothing like this.
The Marshall family pulls together for their own and anytime they’re together, it’s a celebration.
My dad wasn’t the beloved town figure that Kent Marshall is, and our family dynamic was more fractured than festive.
My dad, abusive to his core, would never throw a big wedding like this for Scarlett.
And that thought has me seeing red because every person deserves to have family and friends celebrate their union.
Every woman should have the wedding of their dreams.
I grip my glass tighter, trying not to think about all the things my dad wasn’t able to give us and make peace with knowing I’ll be the one to pay for Scarlett’s wedding if she ever wants to get married someday. Because this? This feels like how it should be.
“Hey, man.” A guy with dark brown hair, dressed in navy pants and a crisp, yellow shirt slides up next to me with a casual smile.
“Hey. Hayes Walker,” I offer.
He nods. “I know. I’m Declan.”
The name pricks at a memory that I can’t quite place. “Friend of the family? Or a groom scoping out the venue for his upcoming nuptials?” I ask.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I wish. Might’ve been if Regan hadn’t turned my proposal down.”
Ah. The ex. The one who proposed to my wife. My hands sweat but I keep the smile plastered on. “Ah. Rough.”
He nods, eyes scanning the crowd. “Would’ve done it, you know. Married her just so she could get the Mayberry Manor like you two did. If she’d asked me to.”
I sip my drink, keeping my face neutral.
So, he knows what’s really going on here.
I guess most people in town have probably figured that out by now.
I want to remind him that she didn’t ask him for a reason.
That she had the opportunity to, but intentionally chose not to because she knew her feelings for him weren’t the same, but I’m also not a complete ass hole.
“I see. Guess it’s too bad Mrs. Mayberry put in the agreement that it had to be me since I was the other offer on the property.”
Declan nods, gaze drifting again. I’m being short, maybe rude by throwing in that point that he clearly knows, but I feel territorial. Regan’s across the room, laughing with Scarlett, her head thrown back, carefree. She looks radiant, happy. Her dream unfolding in front of her tonight.
Except this isn’t really her dream. Her dream was to marry a guy who loves her. Have babies, who knows how many. Not to be throwing a fake wedding to show off her new business venture with her fake husband.
“Fucking sucks,” Declan mutters as he blows out a long breath of air. “Are you planning on divorcing her now that the sale’s gone through?”
I almost choke on my whiskey because that’s a bold thing for him to ask me. “Yeah, that’s not something we’ve discussed.”
He shrugs. “Can’t last forever if it’s not grounded in love. I could’ve given her that plus a family. Just hoping one day she realizes what I have to offer. Hell, I’d move in with you two if that’s what she wants. We could divide the land. You build your own house on your half.”
What the hell is this guy’s problem? He’s clearly not reading the room and my desire not to do that. Plus, Regan turned down his engagement before I was even in the picture. This has nothing to do with Regan and me and everything to do with the fact that she doesn’t want him.
I take off my hat and rub my scalp. “Yeah, well, we’ll see how it goes.”
Nodding to escape, I make a beeline for old Smythe. Because even a conversation with the town’s resident jokester sounds better than another second spent with Declan, a guy who seems to still be pining after my girl.
Table of Contents
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- Page 31 (Reading here)
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