Page 70 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)

Josie

I step out of the bathroom of CAFFEINE and find Norah and Camille putting up blackout curtains on the windows and door so no one can see inside.

They already have hair and makeup stations set up on the long counter and a few of the tables, and my white silk mermaid-style wedding dress hangs on the wall.

I walk over to my wedding dress and double-check to make sure that my veil is on the hanger with it. It is. Thank goodness.

“You ready?” Norah asks, a smile on her lips as she nods toward one of the empty chairs in front of a hair and makeup station.

“You want to do my makeup?”

“Are you kidding me?” she retorts on a laugh. “I’m honored that I get to do my big sister’s makeup on her wedding day.”

“Let me get a bottle of water first,” I tell her and head over to the snack and drink table Camille set up near the register.

It’s hard to believe that today marks my wedding anniversary, the day Clay and I had run off to the courthouse to elope. We were young and in love and happy. Everything had been perfect.

Everything had been so right. Before it had all turned so wrong.

It took us years to find our way back to each other. Took me years to finally tell him all of the things he deserved to know.

I never, in a million years, thought we’d be together again. But here we are, together, happy, and moving forward as a couple.

A few weeks after Clay and I got back together at Norah and Bennett’s wedding reception, he told me he wanted to get married. And I had teased him and said that he didn’t need to marry me because he was a stubborn mule who never filed the divorce papers.

Eventually, though, he expressed just how much it would mean to him if I’d marry him again, if we’d have an actual wedding. And the stress and fear I had felt all those years ago when he was telling me the same things after Grandma Rose passed didn’t exist.

The only thought in my mind was hell yes. I want to marry you again too.

I have to give him credit, because when I told him I wanted that too, he didn’t push like he always used to do. He just told me to tell him when I was ready and he’d be all hands on deck to help me plan the wedding.

I only needed two days to mull it over. By that point, I’d finally told Norah all the sordid details of Clay’s and my past, and I knew she was the one person who would tell me if what I was thinking was crazy or perfect.

Not only did I want to plan a wedding in two months’ time, I wanted to marry Clay again on the same day that we got married all those years ago.

For the longest time, that date had been fraught with pain and confusion and grief, and I wanted to change that.

I wanted to make that date a day to celebrate again.

A day to cherish. A day to remember how far we’ve come and still a day to remember Grandma Rose.

And when Norah’s response had been emotional tears highlighted by a smile and a nodding head, I knew it was exactly what I should do.

So, today, on a Wednesday, I’m going to marry Clay Harris again. This time, though, I’m going to make damn sure I take his name.

Even though it’s the middle of the week, everyone has town has chipped in to help make our wedding a special day. All the small businesses are closing a few hours early, and no one is mad that CAFFEINE has been shut down all day.

The town square is set up for a ceremony, and the altar faces the small church where Clay got down on one knee to ask me on our first date. The reception is being held at The Country Club, and Marty’s wife Sheila has agreed to be an extra bartending hand for the entire night.

“Well, come on!” Norah calls over to me as I finish guzzling down half of the bottle of water I grabbed from the table. “If you make me wait any longer, I’m going to end up bringing the hair and makeup to you. Or, you know, tying you to this chair.”

“Hold your horses.” I laugh.

Norah has always been a girly-girl who loves hair and makeup and fancy clothes. Her sense of style has always been one of the things I’ve admired about her.

I sit down in the chair, and she fluffs her fingers through my hair.

“By the way, did you see the latest article about Eleanor and Thomas?”

“What are you talking about?” I meet Norah’s eyes in the reflection in the mirror in front of my chair, and she pulls her phone off the counter to hand it to me.

“Breezy sent it to me last night.”

My eyes scan her phone, an article about our mother and Norah’s ex front and center on the screen.

First Trial Day for Thomas King and Eleanor Ellis-Prescott

NEW YORK, September 21 – King Financial’s ex-wonderboy Thomas King and Eleanor Ellis-Prescott, ex-wife of wealthy businessman Carlton Prescott, sat in court for the first day of their trial for sex-trafficking charges.

Three of the DA’s twenty witnesses took to the stand and provided compelling, emotional testimony in front of the jury.

The defense teams of King and Ellis-Prescott had already tried for a plea bargain several months ago, but the DA denied their request.

Donald Watts, the United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York, is the one leading the trial and made a statement to the press expressing gratitude to King and Ellis-Prescott’s victims for their courage in coming forward and testifying on the stand today.

More to come on this trial as it progresses.

“Sometimes, it all feels like a fever dream, you know?” Norah says, and I look up from her phone to meet her eyes in the mirror again. “Our mother and my ex are on trial for sex trafficking. If you would’ve told me this was going to happen five years ago, I would’ve never believed it.”

I nod. “It’s certainly sick and twisted in ways I never dreamed were possible.”

But at the same time, it feels like everything I’ve known about our mother is being exposed.

She is evil. To her core. And I’ve known that since the day our baby sister Jezzy died.

I hand Norah her phone back, and she doesn’t bat an eye as her focus shifts right back to getting me ready for my wedding day.

“So…what are we thinking? Dramatic smoky cat eye with red lips?” she asks, and I jerk my head forward.

“Excuse me?”

“Just kidding!” Norah cracks up and yanks me back toward her with two hands on my shoulders. “I think we need to go natural beauty. Earthy tones to bring out your eyes. A little soft blush to highlight your amazing cheekbones. How’s that sound?”

I snort. “Way better than cat eyes.”

Norah gets to work on covering my face with a primer, but when my phone starts ringing from the pocket of my white robe that reads “Bride-to-be” on the back, I pull it out of the pocket to find Incoming Call Breezy on the screen.

“Hey, girl,” I greet. “How was your flight?”

“Flight was good,” she says, but her voice sounds frazzled. “But there are no rental cars available.”

“What? How on earth?”

“I know,” she huffs. “I can’t get ahold of Bennett. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Nore, where’s Ben?” I ask, leaning my head away from the receiver.

“He has Autumn,” she says, and it’s all she needs to say. Poor Autumn has been going through a little bit of a colicky phase. It always tends to hit worse in the afternoons.

“I guess I could try to call a taxi?” Breezy questions in my ear, but I quickly calculate a plan in my head.

“Breezy, stay put. I’m going to find you a ride. Call you back in five,” I say and end the call, my fingers immediately going to the screen to call Clay.

“Well, hello to my beautiful bride,” he greets, and I roll my eyes. I also smile. “Are you ready to marry me again?”

“I am, but I have a little bit of a favor to ask.”

“You need me to come over to CAFFEINE and ease your nerves with a little…”

“No, you pervert.” I snort. “I need you to go to the airport to pick up Breezy.”

“What?” he questions on a half shout. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I need you to go to the airport to give Breezy a ride into town because she can’t get a rental, and I don’t want to make her get in the back of some strange man’s taxi.”

“You do realize that I’m a little busy today, right? You know, trying to get ready to marry you again?”

“Please, Clay?” I ask, forcing my voice to the quiet, needy tone that always ends up with me getting my way.

“Dammit, woman,” he mutters, but then it’s not long before he says, “Fine.”

“You’re the best husband-who-never-filed-divorce-papers-that-I’m-going-to-marry-again in the whole wide world.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He groans, but he also chuckles. “Love you, Josie.”

“Love you too, baby. See you in a few hours. I’ll be the one in the white dress.”

“And I’ll be the stunningly handsome groom, standing at the altar, smiling at you.”

We end the call shortly after that, but the smile on my lips is so big that even Norah nudges me with her elbow. “Sis, you are smitten with a capital S. I freaking love it.”

So do I. It’s about damn time we have our happily-ever-after.

…

Clay

“Clay, I know I’ve thanked you a thousand times, but I feel compelled to thank you again,” Breezy says from the passenger seat of my truck as we cross the yellow bridge and head into town.

“Don’t worry about it, Breeze,” I tell her, even though there’s a teeny-tiny part of me that’s annoyed I had to make this unexpected trip when I was in the middle of trying to make sure everything is perfect for Josie’s and my wedding today.

But again, I love Bennett’s sister. I know Josie loves Bennett’s sister. The two women have grown so close over the last few months. Clearly, I also wanted to make sure she got into town safely.

“You’re in the middle of building your dream home, and you’re finally getting your big wedding. I couldn’t be happier for you and Josie if I tried, Clay.”

I look over to find Breezy smiling at me.

“Thanks, Breezy. Appreciate that.”