23. Kavi
KAVI
This has to be a picture out of a magazine.
It’s the only way to describe the setting—a large wooden barn, adorned with draped linens and glimmering fairy lights behind a wedding arbor woven with delicate wildflowers where Brie stands, waiting for her bride in a white, two-piece satin and lace jumpsuit with a luxurious detachable skirt. Even from my vantage point, seated near the front on one of the wooden benches, I can tell she’s barely holding herself together.
The air is sweetly scented with blooming flowers intertwined with subtle notes of hay and damp earth. I silently thank the heavens above, for both Brie’s and Madison’s sakes, for sparing us from rain today. They had plans to move the wedding into the barn just in case, but thankfully, that doesn’t seem likely at the moment.
Shifting my gaze to my hands, I turn the silver band around my thumb. It sounds cliche, but weddings always choke me up. Maybe it has to do with all the love floating in the air, seeping into my lungs with each breath, or maybe it’s the fact that the idea of forever feels unobtainable and elusive to me. Not by choice, I’ve grown accustomed to walking alone, being alone. Sure, I’ve dated here and there, but nothing has ever lasted, nothing has ever felt permanent, like it was mine. Perhaps it’s time to accept that this could be my future at every wedding—always the guest and never the bride.
There’s a rustle in the seats next to me as a handsome man, a little older than me, slides between the benches and guests, asking for permission to sit next to me.
I scoot over, wondering why he had to make such a spectacle for this one seat when there are seats left at other benches. Without a seating chart, the guests were asked to sit anywhere besides the front row.
“Hey, Kavi?” he asks, leaning in.
“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet.” He juts out his hand, and I place mine against his warm palm. “But I hope you decide to. I’m Adam, Brie’s friend. Maddy and Brie have told me a lot about you.”
“Oh!” I say, surprised. “It’s great to meet you. They said I’d be seeing you today.”
Even at Belinda’s house the other day, Brie had mentioned how excited she was for me to meet her friend, going on about how he was a great catch for anyone, but that because he lived in Portland, it would be nice for me to know someone before I moved there.
“I hope you don’t mind me being so, uh . . . forward. I don’t usually trample wedding guests to come sit by a woman, but then I saw how beautiful you were and, well, I decided I didn’t care if I squashed a few to get to you.”
The blush creeping into Adam’s cheek has me smiling back at him. He’s cute, though I’m not quite sure what to think about the blonde tips in his otherwise dark hair. But who am I to judge personal style? Most of my clothes, if not a decade old, come from thrift stores, including the beautiful chiffon pink dress I’m wearing.
Clearly, I’m not one to obsess over what I wear or the way I look. I don’t follow trends or go on shopping sprees often, but even I can admit, this dress makes me feel like a million dollars.
And while Adam’s compliment has my confidence boosted, it wasn’t his eyes I was hoping to please.
No, the ones I was hoping for aren’t clear azure skies like Adam’s, they’re stormy seas swelling under a wild tempest.
It’s been . . . complicated between me and Hudson ever since the night in his office. And though we’ve found ways to skirt around talking about that night, it’s been on constant replay in my head.
But aside from his gestures of friendship, like driving me to see Jojo that night and holding me after my awful nightmare, or even ensuring that I got to the wedding in a chauffeured car, he’s been nothing but cordial.
But that’s just it . . . It’s been cordial, friendly, and professional.
But not the same.
So when Brie and Maddy encouraged me to meet Adam, I reluctantly said yes.
He lives in Portland and, from all their accounts, seems like a great guy. And though I”m not particularly looking to fill some deep void or find someone because I’m lonely, I also didn’t want to come across as overly resistant. What reason would I have to be that way?
Hudson made it clear we were destined for only that one night, and I’d be foolish to expect anything more. So even though I’ve hoped he’d take back his words, prayed he’d see that we could be more, I’ve now decided I can’t keep waiting any longer.
I give Adam a genuine smile and don’t stop myself from flirting back a bit. “Well, I won’t deny I’m impressed by your grand entrance. I find trampling quite charming.”
He flashes his teeth at me, his blue eyes gleaming. Except they don’t have the gray in them I’m so enraptured with. “Now I know why Maddy and Brie like you so much.” His eyes dip down to my lips before pulling back up to my eyes. “You’re cute and funny. It’s a hell of a trap.”
I blush, unable to come up with a response quite as bold and unabashed as Adam’s, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his probing gaze.
Thankfully, Shania Twain’s melodic voice fills the air with “From This Moment” playing on the speakers, making guests shift in their seats and stealing Adam’s attention off me toward the aisle where the little flower girls scatter petals over the short grass.
Shania’s throaty voice echoes down my spine and my eyes search behind the little girls, not only for Madison, but for the man I can’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard I try.
I haven’t seen him in a few days, but the prospect of it has my heart racing.
Finally, a soft murmur floats through the seated guests as Madison comes into view, holding a wildflower bouquet with her wrist gently tucked inside Hudson’s elbow and her gaze set on her bride.
My nose tingles at the sight of her in the stunning white gown with floral embroidery decorating the bodice. Her platinum blonde hair is pinned half up, waving gently in the breeze.
God, have I ever seen a more beautiful bride?
And as they close the distance to the front, Hudson’s gaze finds mine. Kindling, simmering, burning. His eyes travel over my face, flaring as they dip below my lips to my exposed neck and shoulders, as if cataloging each inch. The heat inside them has my skin pebbling like it would right before a fever.
But while his eyes tell me they like what they see, his words haven’t. So as much as I want to hold on to that promise in his eyes, I’d be foolish to think he’ll ever tell me what I want to hear.
That perhaps we could be more.
That maybe I’m a shot worth taking.
A soft breeze has tiny flowers and pollen from nearby trees floating to the ground, permeating the air with even more of the sweet scent. I can’t believe Hudson raised Madison here, in this picturesque landscape with its country barn and the fenced off area for horses. What must it have been like to have lived here with him?
“Looks like even the flowers want to get closer to you.”
I turn toward Adam’s awaiting smile as he lifts his hand to pull something out of my hair. His eyes find mine instead of focusing on his task as he presses a tiny flower into my hand.
I smile, disconnecting my eyes from his. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs near my ear. “But I was hoping to get you a bigger bouquet at some point.”
I chuckle softly, still feeling uneasy with his blatant verbal advances, and lift my eyes to the altar where Brie and Maddy are about to take their vows. But before my eyes can even find them, they collide with a pair of rather enraged ones—reminiscent of glacial icebergs—scowling back at me.
Actually, they’re not really looking at me; they’re glaring at the man next to me with the severity of thunderous clouds, ready to dole out bolts of lightning as punishment.
Looks like rain is, in fact, in the forecast for today.
Inside the beautifully decorated barn,I’m still finishing up dinner with Belinda and her husband Greg on one side of me, and Adam on the other, but no matter where I look, all I see is Hudson’s impassive face—eyes that seem to be fixed on me no matter who he’s speaking with.
Currently, he’s talking to two men, who look rather similar, with blonde hair near the bar. One of them has his hair in a well-groomed half-bun at the top of his head.
“Those are Hudson’s best friends, Garrett and Dean. They’re twin brothers.” Belinda leans in to tell me, clearly noticing where my gaze has been lingering. She’s so fucking sharp, I have to be careful not to make my growing infatuation with the man obvious. “Dean is the one with the man-bun, and that other man with the darker hair on Hudson’s other side is their other brother, Darian. They’ve all been friends for ages.”
I nod, watching them laugh and chat when, all of a sudden, one of them—the one I assume is Garrett—looks directly back at me, following Hudson’s line of sight. He smiles and, for reasons beyond my understanding, familiarity and recognition dance inside them, though I’m positive I’ve never seen him before.
Before I can think much of it, Hudson’s brother ambles over with their drinks to join the crowd, and I watch Hudson and him clink their glasses together.
“Oh, and you recognize Jett? You said he came to the office a few weeks ago, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, he came to propose a collaboration with his company and Case Geo for the RCS project.”
Belinda elbows me before taking a bite of her fish. Brie and Madison had all the food catered from Hudson and Jett’s restaurant. “Between you and me, I don’t think Jett was pursuing Case Geo because his company was in need of the money.”
My brows furrow as I turn to her, my fork still pinched between my fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, sure, their stock has dropped, but the profits they stand to make from RCS would be a drop in the bucket for them.” She shakes her head before wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “This was Jett reaching out to mend the rift between him and his brother. He fucked up, and he knows it. I know he’s tried to reach out to Hudson before, but Hudson has this rule—”
“What rule?”
Belinda chuckles. “Oh, you know our boss by now. He has a million rules, but this one is something about never chasing quitters. In Hudson’s eyes, Jett quit on him, quit on their relationship, and fucked up while doing it. Which is why it’s taken Jett two years to reach Hudson. Honestly, I’m surprised our stubborn boss actually agreed to work with him and his company.” She winks at me. “But I was told it had something to do with what you said to him.”
My eyes widen. “Me?”
“Yes. Hudson told me you convinced him to loosen up a bit when it comes to his ridiculous expectations of his employees, and that you lectured him about having a double standard on forgiveness, which is why he agreed to work with his brother again.” She searches my face with a smile I can’t quite decipher. “He didn’t go into much detail because, come on, it’s Hudson. The man speaks a total of fifty words a day, if that, but I’m glad you guys are getting along.”
I nod, looking back at the risotto on my plate.
Are we getting along? I’m not sure what you’d call the constant electricity and the palpable weight in the air around me and Hudson when we’re both in the same room. Would that be called getting along, or would that be more accurately described as skirting around an elephant neither one of us wants to acknowledge?
Still, Belinda doesn’t need to know those details, so I settle for, “We are.”
“He might be one stubborn mule, but he’s a decent man. One of the best I’ve met, to be honest, but don’t you dare tell him that and inflate his ego any more than it already is. I’m just glad he’s warmed up to you because hell, if you had quit, I honestly don’t know how I would have trained another admin with a baby attached to my boob.”
I chuckle but keep my thoughts to myself. There’s no need for her to know that I actually did quit and how Hudson gave me an offer I found hard to resist, so I came back.
Nor does she need to know that, while that offer was at first about the money, I haven’t given the money much thought since that day. Yes, while every extra dime is already earmarked for overdue bills, my brother’s future, and my apartment deposit in Portland, it’s not the reason I’ve continued to stay. It’s never really been the reason at all.
Nor does she need to know that I’m living with him.
My gaze finds Brie and Madison across the room, eating their dinner and whispering to each other, and my stomach sinks at the thought that Madison still has no idea that I’m living with her dad.
I want to tell her. I should tell her. But would it be right of me to tell her without Hudson’s consent? I wouldn’t want to blindside him like that.
“So, have you found a place in Portland yet?” Adam asks, pulling me from my musings. “I could show you around if you haven’t.”
“I just signed a lease, actually, right outside of Portland, in Wood Village,” I tell him, still feeling this strange mixture of relief and anxiety at the prospect of having found a place to live.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before I did, but any comfort I thought I’d feel after signing a lease a couple of days ago never came. I still feel like I’m in knots inside.
Adam’s eyes light with excitement, disbelief. “Seriously? I live in Troutdale, literally five minutes away from Wood Village!”
“Oh, wow! I’ve been meaning to ask, what do you do?”
“I actually manage a distillery in Troutdale. You’ll have to come visit while I’m working; I’ll show you around. All your drinks will be on the house, of course.” He winks, as if hoping to entice me further with the prospect of said drinks.
I giggle. “Well, how can I say no to an offer like that?”
He puts down his fork and turns to me, his lips lifting as his eyes trace the curve of mine. “You shouldn’t. But can I sweeten the pot a little more?”
I bite my bottom lip, feeling a weird flutter in my stomach. Strangely, the flutter has less to do with our exchange or the almost two glasses of wine I’ve consumed, and more to do with the fact that I know my boss’s eyes are still on me, watching my every move.
But . . . fuck it. I take another sip of my wine, feeling emboldened.
I should feel guilty for using Adam to lure the prowling and hungry lion that is my boss, but I’m blaming the alcohol swimming inside my system for my skewed moral compass at the moment.
“Sweeten away,” I say through falsely lowered lashes. “I need more sweet and less cranky-dick in my life.”
Adam’s brows furrow slightly, clearly not understanding my reference. “How about I take you out to dinner after my shift one day and show you around town?”
I squint at him. “So, let me get this straight. You want to liquor me up, then fill my tummy—”
“And then liquor you up some more,” he adds.
“And liquor me up some more, and then take me around town?”
His smile broadens before he scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. Even in my slightly inebriated state, I can see our faces are closer than necessary. “And maybe, possibly, hopefully after that, I could take you to my apartment to show you where I live.”
I pull my glass to my lips again, taking another healthy sip, hoping to put some space between us. “Maybe . . . possibly.”
I purposely don’t add the ‘hopefully’.
When I put my glass down, Adam reaches out to touch me for the second time this evening. His thumb finds the corner of my lip, brushing off a drop of the wine. His eyes soften as he brings his thumb to his mouth, and I’m caught off-guard at how brazen the man is, given I just met him.
Is this normal? I haven’t been in the dating scene for a while, but have the rules changed? Are men this obvious about what they want?
My phone buzzes on the table, lighting up with a message, and Adam reads the name out loud.
“Who’s Captain CrankyDick?”
Belinda snorts next to me. “Oh, I’m totally going to change his name to that on my phone, too.” She pulls out her phone, likely doing just that. “That is fucking gold.”
I pick up my phone, telling Adam it’s a message from my boss.
Captain CrankyDick
I need to see you in the house. Upstairs, the master room at the end of the hallway. Now.
I look up and find the demanding jackass staring at me while he pretends to be in conversation with his friends.
Me:
I’m not on the clock at the moment, Mr. Case. Please revert your requests to your weekend admin. Oh wait . . . you don’t have one. Guess you’re SOL.
I watch as he takes his phone out of his pocket and reads my message, his nostrils flaring as he types back his response.
Captain CrankyDick
Tell me, is it because of the riveting conversation you’re having with the twerp who looks like a failed backup dancer for a shitty boy band?
My fingers storm over my phone as my audacity and the need to taunt heightens. If he’s going to demand answers, then he’d better be ready to hear what I have to say.
Me
I fail to see how that’s your problem. In any case, yes, I’ve had quite the lovely conversation with him. He even asked me to dinner and then to go home with him. And since I have nothing tying me down . . .
I hit Send with more than just alcohol thrumming through my veins. I can feel each heartbeat inside them.
When I look up, I find that Hudson’s gaze has darkened, but he’s not focused on me. Like it was at the wedding, it’s on poor Adam. Adam, who’s happily slicing the meat on his plate without a care in the world. I’m starting to feel bad for the guy, unaware of his part in the crossfire, when my eyes catch movement striding toward us.
Looks like the lion’s decided to come out of the shadows and pounce on his prey.