CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Rory
“ B reck?” I ask from across the living room, anticipation and trepidation in my voice.
He’s hunched over, helping Willow with something on her screen at the kitchen table. “Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows in question.
“I know setting up the website was an important step in making Willow Tree Elopements a thing… but, um, I keep getting inquiry emails and don’t know how I’m going to have time for all these?” I chew the corner of my thumbnail, my mind racing. I’m totally freaking out.
He presses a kiss to Willow’s head. “You keep working on this one and I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.”
There’s a purpose in his movements, almost a swagger, that I can’t ignore. He inclines his head toward the hallway leading to the stairs and I shift my computer off my lap to follow him. I round the wall that separates the living room from the foyer only to be pulled into strong arms, braced against a firm chest. My anxiety cools in an instant.
“Rory,” he says against my hair. “This is a good thing. I know it’s a lot right now, but that’s what I’m here for. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
I search his face for the truth, that this really is a good thing and not a mistake.
“More inquiries is good. That means the website is working and people are looking for what you offer.”
“But some of these requests are for mid-week weddings. I have a job, what am I supposed to do?”
“In the beginning you’ll have to limit the number of those mid-week shoots to the ones you really want to do, since you’ll have to request days off from the resort. Have you considered what you want to do about Empyreal long-term?” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and his fingers linger on the skin of my neck. I want to melt on the spot.
“Ideally this becomes a full-time thing, but right now, I can’t imagine letting go of my real job.”
His eyes go soft, full of understanding. I’m scared and he knows it. “You need to remember that photography is a real job too. You’re a professional. You’re incredibly skilled. You have two ‘real jobs,’ and that’s a lot. You can do it though, and eventually you’ll know what the best road forward is.” He rests his forehead against mine. It’s the closest we’ve been since our kiss on Willow’s birthday ten days ago. “I’m incredibly proud of you.”
The praise lights me up inside, and I smile. I can’t stop it, and I don’t want to.
“Thank you,” I breathe, and it mingles with his in the inches between us. We can’t move any farther, but I’m content to share this tiny sliver of space with him.
“Let’s look at the calendar tonight after Willow goes to bed and we’ll figure out what elopements you can take on, especially if they’re while I’m here and can help. We can coordinate with Jamie for the rest, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.” Some of the strain lifts on my inhale as I push away. If we continue to stand like this, I won’t be able to resist brushing my lips against his.
Willow’s asleep upstairs, my laptop sits on the table, and Jamie’s just arrived with his calendar so we can coordinate. Yeah, I called in reinforcements. Muffled voices carry from the foyer while I continue to focus on the screen in front of me.
“Hey, Roars,” Jamie says when he rounds the kitchen, a smirk hiding under his beard.
“Ugh, not you too.”
Breck joins us and chuckles. “Who needs a drink?”
“Wine?” I ask.
Jamie shakes his head, pulling a bottle of champagne from behind his back. The bright yellow-orange label tells me it’s my favorite. One I never get to drink—because who’s going to spend that much on one bottle? “Jamie!”
“What? I figured we were celebrating. You’re finally doing this thing, and you deserve to be celebrated. Right, Breck?”
“Absolutely, I approve of this message.” He beams and goes to the cabinet to retrieve three champagne flutes. The pop of the cork and fizz of bubbles echoes the way my stomach feels.
Glasses in hand, Breck speaks first. “To Rory, making her dreams come true.”
“To Rory, I’m so proud of you,” Jamie says, lifting his.
I avert my eyes. That’s twice today I’ve heard those words and, damn, it feels good. A tear slips down my cheek with the clink of our glasses. “Thank you both. I wouldn’t be here without either of you.” The crisp liquid hits my tongue and I shimmy, its effervescence making me giddy.
“Alright,” Jamie says, a determined look in his moss-green eyes. “Let’s make our girl the most sought-after Tahoe elopement photographer.”
More tears. I set my glass down to pull him into a hug.
“I love you, Jamie. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for this. You know I’d do anything for you,” he says against my hair.
We work our way through the inquiries, the schedules, the logistics. If I take on every client that’s requesting services, I’ll have an elopement almost every week through the rest of ski season, plus a couple in the summer. It’s a heavy mix of excitement and terror—it’s so much. How is this possible?
Jamie succinctly summarizes the plans for us. “Breck will take the two elopements between now and the end of February, which works well for me because I’m in the writing cave the rest of this month. Once he leaves,” he says, and I flinch internally at the thought, “I’ll take on the officiant role again. We will need to figure out a secondary officiant for a few of these, but if we start looking now, I’m sure we’ll have someone by the time they come around.”
“Rory, are you comfortable taking off two days a month for mid-week sessions through the rest of the season?” Breck asks, pulling my hand away from my face.
I nod. “Yes, I’ll request these dates when I go in tomorrow and hope Logan doesn’t mind.”
“Other than Christmas, I don’t remember when you last took time off. Maybe when Wes was in the hospital? If your boss has an issue with it, that’s his problem.” Jamie’s green eyes burn into mine, daring me to argue.
“You’re right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
“Good.” He pauses, removing the glasses he typically reserves for evenings in front of his computer, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Have you talked to your parents at all?”
“Nope. Unless you count Mom demanding I join them at dinner this past weekend. I didn’t respond though.” Jamie darts his eyes away from me. “What?”
“They called me.” Jamie’s auburn beard twitches with the clench of his jaw.
“They what ?” I shout, and Breck shushes me on reflex. “Shit, sorry,” I whisper, glancing up toward where I hope Willow is still sleeping.
“Yeah. Your dad called me yesterday.”
“My dad?” Interesting. I’d expect something like this from Mom.
“He thought I might be the only person who could get through to you.” He offers an apologetic shrug. “Everything else he said was unimportant, and I had some choice words for him in return. I don’t imagine he, or your mom, will call me again. They know now that I’m not their ally in this fight.”
I kind of do want to know what he had to say, but it won’t do me any good to hear those words, so I shrug it off. “I’m sorry, Jamie.”
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve said something to your parents a long time ago. I only held my tongue because I didn’t want to create extra drama for you. Now though… It felt good to finally give him a piece of my mind.”
I chuckle, then let out a long-suffering groan. I’m going to have to address the issue at some point, but I want to bask in my freedom from their control, their judgment, for a while longer.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you both.” My gaze trails away from my best friend and lands on Breck. He winks, and the soft, ever-burning flame in my chest grows a little brighter. Jamie’s watching us closely, so I break the connection and look at my hands.
“I’m going to turn in. Gotta be up early with Willow tomorrow. I swear her teachers need a raise.” Breck yawns and pushes away from the table. Before he leaves, he leans in and whispers in my ear, hands braced on my shoulders. “You’re going to be great. I’m excited to see you fly.”
The touch of his fingertips sears my skin, and I duck my chin to hide my flushed cheeks. “Thank you.”
His footsteps fade away up the stairs and I lift my head to look at Jamie. His right eyebrow is arched and a smirk plays on his lips.
“So, I take it that’s still happening?” He jerks his chin toward where Breck just disappeared.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy. I know you hooked up on New Year’s, and I can only assume it continued.” He gives me a look like don’t even try to deny it .
“We only made out on New Year’s,” I say defensively.
“Semantics. You’ve more than made out since then.”
“That’s none of your business.”
He laughs. “Oh please. You know all my business. You know I won’t judge. I just want to make sure you’re being careful.”
I flush. “Oh, for god’s sake!”
His laugh grows more boisterous. “That’s not what I meant.” The words are barely there between his laughs. “I mean, yes, that’s important too. But I was talking about you being careful with your heart.”
Said organ feels like it’s in my throat. I can’t speak.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. So long as you’re on the same page about what it means when he leaves…” He trails off with a slight lift of his shoulders. “Because he will go home. He’s not like Wes, he can’t stay. He has Willow to think about, and their whole life is in Sydney.”
The apologetic note in his voice only makes this harder—he’s more on the money than I care to admit.
“We already stopped… whatever it was. It’s too complicated now that we’re living together. Thank you for worrying about me, but I’m fine. I’ll miss them when they leave, of course, but I’m not harboring any ideas that they’ll stay. That was never an expectation.”
“Sometimes our expectations grow without our permission.”
“It was just something fun, something for us, and now it’s over.” I’m not sure who I’m saying all this for… him or me.
“And you’re really okay with that?”
“Yes,” I say but don’t meet his eyes.
“Okay. Just be careful. I like Breck. I’d hate to have to kick his ass for hurting you.” Jamie chuckles, then he gentles his voice. “I don’t want to be picking up the pieces of you after he leaves.”
“You won’t. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’ll keep this one.”
“Okay. I trust you.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head and leaves the way he came.
I’m left with his words spinning on an endless wheel in my mind.
I don’t have expectations.
I don’t.