Chapter 7 The After-Party #2
“Jesus. Of course she is. Paige, this is Sophie. Sophie, my sister Paige. Hey, where’s Aury?” The two women shook hands, and Paige eyed up Sophie from head to toe, nodding appreciatively.
“She’s at home getting the play-by-play via text. She didn’t know Julie that well, and since the one time they met Aury wasted no time telling Julie you were hot, there wasn’t a chance those two were ending up friends. One more reason to love Aury.”
Brad had to laugh at that. Paige’s best friend was as much a pistol as Paige herself was. “How you doing, Owen?” he asked Paige’s husband. Owen nodded and shrugged his shoulders, held up his beer.
“Okay. Tired, but the open bar is helping,” Owen said, holding up a Bud Light. Owen was so low key, Brad sometimes wondered how he and Paige managed to coexist under the same roof. His sister must exhaust Owen. “That was a show, wasn’t it?”
Brad chuckled, his arm tightening around Sophie’s waist.
“Understatement, my brother. But then again, not everyone can have what you and my little sister have,” Brad said.
Owen nodded, gazing down at Paige in a way that said there wouldn’t be a day he didn’t love her with all the ferocity he was capable of.
It warmed Brad’s heart, but at the same time his chest constricted with desire, wanting the same love in his life.
He’d never come close to that with Julia, that much was obvious to even the most latent observer, but still, all that time wasted…
“So, you did bring a date to Julia’s wedding after all, huh?
” Paige needled him. “I didn’t think you had it in you, big brother.
I’m proud of you, but Mom’s ready to read you your rights.
” She giggled. “I was gonna drag this guy home for some fun of our own, but now I just might stick around and see what happens,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“I didn’t bring a date. I brought Steve, and Sophie brought a friend, Jackie, and as you can see, we got stood up.
It’s as simple as that. You saw us at the bar, remember?
” Brad said. Even he heard the uneasy defiance in his voice, though.
Especially because, to him, this was becoming more and more a date by the minute.
“Yeah, well, did you two kiss?”
Brad looked at Sophie, whose cheeks had turned the same shade of red as her lipstick.
Both of them looked down, sheepish half-smiles on their faces.
How the hell had that news gotten around so fast?
They’d sat in the back row for crying out loud.
He had to hand it to the Banberry Telegraph—the gossipy old ladies like Connie from the salon in town who shared gossip as easily as some shared the weather—they were consistent and expedient.
“So, what?” Brad tried again to ignore the petulant child’s voice he’d somehow adopted. What did he care if everyone knew he’d kissed Sophie? It was the high point in his evening—hell, his year. He actually hoped there would be more of it soon.
“So, you brought a date,” Paige declared, her arms crossed over her chest. “And Mom’s going to have your hide. I just wanted to be a hundred percent sure before I asked Owen to take me home that I wouldn’t miss the fireworks.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Owen chimed in, winking at Brad. Brad scowled, tossed his brother-in-law the middle finger.
“There won’t be any fireworks. I’ll talk to Mom tomorrow and explain everything. Just stay out of it, and go make your own waves, okay?”
“Don’t get testy, big brother. I’m just glad it’s Mr. Perfect she’s ready to strangle this time. It’s only fair to share Mom’s wrath every now and then, don’t you think?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” Brad said, his own half-smile playing on his face now. He’d never been on the firing end of their mother’s anger until this past year, so this was altogether new to him, unlike Paige, who always seemed to annoy their mom with her wild antics.
“Touché. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Sophie. Let’s hang out sometime.
Aury and I’ll give you all the embarrassing deets on my big brother, here,” she said, before she spun on her five-inch pink suede heels and headed to the bar.
Owen gave a small salute with his beer and followed his wife, an arm protectively and not unlovingly wrapped tight around her waist.
“Well, that was interesting,” Sophie said, laughing. “I guess there’s no more laying low, huh?”
“Nope, guess not,” Brad said, pulling Sophie back into his chest, twirling her on the dance floor in a dramatic spin. As fit as she was, she was soft in all the right places. Good God, she was gonna be trouble.
Sophie laughed, covering her mouth again. He moved her hand and gave her a delicate kiss on her lips. “Now it’s official and people can stop tittering in the corners about us. My sister’s harmless, by the way. She and I are actually pretty close now that we’re adults, but she loves drama.”
“I like her,” Sophie said, and Brad’s heart swelled at her admission.
It was all he’d ever wanted, his sister and whoever he dated becoming friends, especially since he’d grown so close to Owen in the almost two years he’d lived next door to Brad’s parents.
Paige hadn’t been shy about her distrust of Julia from the start, so to hear her say she wanted to hang out with Sophie after one meeting was a welcome surprise—especially since, like the farm pup, Penske, Paige seemed to have a pretty good read on people.
On the opposite end of the reception hall, Brad’s mom avoided them both, choosing instead to sit alone at her table, a deep scowl etched on her face.
For the briefest of moments, Brad thought about going over to her and attempting to smooth things over, but then Sophie would smile at him, and he was all hers again.
He would talk to his mom this week, maybe invite her to come over for one of those crappy reality TV shows she was addicted to, frozen pizzas included.
Bottom line? He’d suffer the consequences tomorrow—tonight, he wanted to have fun.
Brad had Sophie’s hands, their arms extended in mid-dance spin, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“May I cut in?” his dad asked, a gleam in his eyes that belied his true age.
Sophie grinned like she’d won a prize. Before Brad could make a quip about how he’d better hand her back after one dance, Sophie had slid over to his dad, giggling as Alan continued the spin she’d started with Brad.
Her laughter wormed its way into his heart, egging him on to do more to make her that happy.
Brad stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching Sophie talk to his dad with the same ease with which she’d talked to him.
When her hands were busy, she spoke with her eyes, her cheeks, every part of her face showing what she felt.
He liked that she was, seemingly at least, an open book.
It was a new thing for him, not to have to crack a secret code to find out what a woman wanted.
He felt weird, empty even, with her away from him.
His hands hung awkwardly at his side, like now that they’d held her, they didn’t know what to do without her to cling to.
Her dress rose to just below the parts of Sophie he’d been daydreaming about each time his father spun her, and he longed to go over and whisk her away from this hall, this hotel, this town, so he could explore her and all her hidden secrets away from prying eyes.
Someone moved in beside him, and he turned, half-expecting his mother to be standing at his side. He plastered a conciliatory smile on his face that was immediately wiped clean when he came face-to-face with Julia.
“Hi,” she said, her gaze lowered. Her lashes were damp, like she’d been crying, and her shoulders were stooped in defeat.
“Hi. And congratulations.” Brad shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled back on his heels. He had no idea what else to say to her. After almost twenty years, she was a veritable stranger.
“Um, thanks. Would you like to…?” She asked, gesturing to the dance floor.
Brad cleared his throat and nodded obligingly, opening his arms to her.
How many times had they performed this same routine together—at friends’ weddings, alone at night—and it had never felt like she enjoyed dancing, or at least not with him.
Nothing had changed in that respect. She felt stiff and uncomfortable in his arms, and he couldn’t actually remember the last time that they had been easy together. Had they ever?
“The room is beautiful, Julia. You did a great job.”
“Thanks again. It’s not too much, is it?” She always was good at fishing for compliments, though. Their breakup hadn’t stunted that particular talent of hers.
“Nope,” he lied. “It’s perfectly you.” That last part was the truth.
This was part of what he’d dreaded about coming to the wedding.
Sure, he’d worried about falling back in love with her, or at least feeling unable to let her go again, but even without Sophie’s arrival back into his life, he’d known his time with Julia was one-hundred percent over as soon as he’d seen her at the door with her father.
That didn’t mean he wanted to play the part of the spurned-lover-turned-friend-again.
He obligingly, rigidly, twirled Julia around the dance floor, willing the song to be over quickly.
“Julia, what are you doing here?” He sighed, the words heavy.
“This is my wedding, Bradley,” she retorted, finally looking him in the eyes.
The makeup around her eyes was smudged, but it wasn’t from crying with joy.
Her shoulders were now perfectly straight like his mom’s had been earlier, a look he knew from both of them to be aggressive and defensive at the same time.
“It is. Which you invited me to. And I’m really not sure why you did.”
“I told you a month ago. I wanted you here to support Chris and me. We were your best friends growing up, or did our whole childhood history get trashed when we broke up?” Her cheeks were flushed, adding life to her look that was missing until now.