Chapter 26
Scottie
GIRLS’ NIGHT
The last thing I’m in the mood for is a girls’ night out.
Which is exactly why Elyse didn’t give me a choice.
“You’re coming. No excuses. I’m already on my way,” she stated over the phone. That was ten minutes ago.
And she wasn’t exaggerating, because that’s her now. Honking.
“Yay,” she says, doing a happy clap as I slide into her car. “I’m so happy you’re coming out.”
I snort, laughing. “Not like you gave me a choice.”
She shrugs. “Either way, you’re still coming. And we haven’t been out since you got back. We need this.”
During the drive, Elyse updates me on the house renovations and runs through the latest gossip. Someone’s getting married. Someone else is getting divorced. Two people who barely spoke in high school are apparently having a baby now. The usual small-town shit.
When we arrive, The Jackalope is busy for a Thursday night.
Inside, the crowd is split between tourists in sundresses and locals who pretend they don’t know everyone else in the room even though they definitely do.
It used to be a locals-only kind of bar, but apparently the out-of-towners have caught wind of it.
We’re the last to arrive in the group. Marisa, Layla, and Ariana are already seated at a booth, drinks in hand. Marisa passes over a margarita the size of a fishbowl to Elyse as she slides in next to her. I sit on the other side, between Ariana and the outer edge of the booth.
I don’t have any plans to drink tonight.
One, because I’m not nearly as reckless as I used to be, so I actually care about monitoring my blood sugar and not spiking it like crazy.
And two, because the thought of managing my blood sugar in public feels like more effort than I currently possess.
My brain is too preoccupied—with Gavin and tomorrow and what will happen.
So instead, I pour myself a glass of water from the pitcher at the center of the table.
Just thinking about Gavin sends something fluttering through my chest—a mix of anticipation and panic and maybe a little hope. I’m not sure what to expect, but the fact that something could is enough to keep my mind racing.
“Okay, everyone shut up for a second,” Elyse announces, slamming her margarita down just lightly enough not to spill. “I have something to tell you.”
We all turn toward her, giving her our full attention.
Marisa’s smile grows slow. Like she knows what’s coming.
Layla is already clapping softly like a seal.
Ariana looks confused, but happy to be part of whatever Elyse has planned.
And me? I’m gripping my water glass like my life depends on it because my emotional bandwidth is barely holding it together.
Elyse places both hands on the table, fingers spread. “Dominic and I—” she pauses for dramatic effect, her true talent “—are eloping.”
A beat.
Then the table erupts.
Squeals. Clinking glasses. Layla screaming, “I knew it!” Marisa wiping at her eyes. Ariana hugging Elyse so hard it looks like she might bruise her.
And me—smiling. Because I am happy for her. For them. They’ve been engaged since Dominic was hospitalized for the bullet he took for her, but they never discussed wedding plans with anyone. It’s never been a matter of if, but when they would finally make things official. And it’s well overdue.
Their love is the kind of love that withstands time and regret and mistakes, only for it to find its way back despite how long and hard the road was. No one deserves it more.
It’s beautiful.
And suddenly I want to cry. I did this massive thing behind her back—marrying her brother, keeping it a secret. We used to play dress-up and talk about our weddings, and I didn’t get to share any of it with her.
Marisa catches my eye, like she can hear every thought I’m not saying, and offers a sympathetic smile. Something about it steadies me, so I hold on to it and do my best to give Elyse the attention she deserves.
Elyse fans herself. “We’re going to the courthouse. Just us. No drama. No big fuss. We’ve waited too long and this just feels right. It feels like us.”
Marisa wipes another tear. “I should’ve worn waterproof mascara.”
“Same,” Ariana and Layla say at the same time, both mirroring each other in that way that twins do as they wipe the moisture beneath their eyes.
I stand, trying to be the best friend Elyse needs right now. “This calls for something bubbly,” I announce, raising my water glass in the air. “Because my best friend is getting married!”
The bar hoots and hollers, people shouting their congratulations as I make my way up to the front to order.
“We just got this one in,” Rhonda, the bartender, says, holding a bottle with a Ledger label on it. I didn’t think they had any sparkling wine.
I pay for the round, returning to the table with a tray of glasses. Rhonda poured five, so I guess that means I’m having at least one drink tonight.
Once everyone has a glass in hand, I lift mine up.
“A toast,” I say, looking straight at Elyse. “To my beautiful, talented, kind, badass, survivor of a best friend—my soul sister in every lifetime. I am so happy for you. Truly. I can’t think of two people more deserving of a happily ever after.”
Glasses lift in response, the dim bar light catching on the rims and turning everything gold for a second.
We lean in and clink, laughter and teary smiles mixing together.
I take a sip, the bubbles meeting my tongue, the taste smooth but not sweet like I was expecting. It’s good. Really good.
“I didn’t think you guys had sparkling wine,” I tell Elyse.
She nods while taking a sip. “It’s new. Some project Gavin’s been working on. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
My eyes narrow, confused. “Why would he tell me?”
Her shoulders lift. “It’s low-carb.”
Why would he make a low-carb wine?
Some silly little corner of my heart hopes it’s for me, but the more rational part of me knows better. Still, there’s that seed of hope, letting me think it’s true. That he was thinking of me. That maybe it means more than just some bottle.
Marisa’s gaze connects with mine, winking at me before standing up and declaring it’s time to dance.
By the time everyone is on their second round of drinks, I’ve finished my glass and made it back to water. As I’m settling into the booth, a smattering of goosebumps spreads across my skin, and it’s like I feel him before I see him.
I look up toward the front door, and Gavin is walking in with Ethan, Dominic, Shane, and Cole Benton.
Gavin spots me immediately. His gaze locks on mine like he’d been looking for me before he even came inside.
“Oh, God. He’s here,” Ariana mutters under her breath beside me.
“Who’s here?” I ask, though I don’t take my eyes off Gavin.
“Cole,” she whispers.
My curiosity is piqued. Why would Ariana care if Cole is here? I didn’t realize they even really knew each other.
Interesting.
Cole Benton is the head winemaker and CEO of Benton Winery, Ledger’s biggest competitor. The families are friendly in public, but when it comes to business, they’re ruthless with each other.
My attention flashes to Cole, who’s looking directly at Ariana.
Meanwhile, she’s pretending to be very interested in the coaster in front of her.
No one else seems to notice the quiet meltdown Ariana is having or the way Cole is basically undressing her with his eyes. I decide to keep it to myself, filing it away for later.
Because if the Ledger brothers—any of them—found out their baby sister, the purest soul among them, was tangled up with Cole? A man ten years older than her with a reputation that precedes him?
There would be bloodshed.
An uprising.
A riot.
Possibly a war.
And I’m here for it.
Maybe Ariana isn’t as innocent as she’s led us all to believe.
Dominic makes a beeline straight for Elyse and kisses her like a soldier returning from war. You’d think the two haven’t seen each other in years, when it’s only been a little over an hour. Ethan sits beside Marisa, who immediately cuddles up around him.
Layla drags Ariana out onto the dance floor, leaving me with the couples.
That is, until Gavin approaches, sliding in next to me—but not so close that we’re touching. It’s respectable. It’s friendly. It definitely doesn’t say we’ve almost kind of sort of had sex and are secretly married, and he knows what I taste like. It doesn’t say that at all.
“Hey,” he says quietly, smiling at me.
My stomach dips, butterflies fluttering to life.
“Hi,” I say, suddenly feeling shy.
He leans in just slightly—enough that it looks like nothing, but feels like everything. “You look pretty,” he murmurs.
My spine melts. My heart tilts forward like it wants to leap out of my chest and into his hands.
I can’t look at him, so I look at my water instead.
“Thanks,” I say, voice small but steady.
After a beat, I turn in my seat to face him. “I had a glass of sparkling wine, and it was Ledger. Is that a new thing?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah,” he says, a hint of apprehension in his tone.
“It was really good.”
He exhales softly through his nose, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his face. “Thanks.” He swallows. “I’m glad you liked it.”
His reaction is cute, and it makes me think maybe he did make it for me after all.
Even if he didn’t, I’m choosing to believe it. A little delusion never hurts.
The night winds down slowly. Us girls do a karaoke rendition of “Pink Pony Club,” the guys play pool, and surprisingly the locals are all friendly toward me.
Maybe it’s because everyone is so happy for Elyse and Dominic they can’t help but be nice to me too, or the tides have finally started to turn—my scarlet letter becoming a thing of the past.
After Elyse and Dominic sneak out and Ethan and Marisa follow shortly after, Gavin and I are left with the twins, Shane (who’s been chatting up an unsuspecting tourist since he got here), and Cole, who’s been quietly nursing a beer all night long.
Gavin looks at me. “Ready to go home?”
I nod, words trapped in my throat. That’s the second time he’s called it home, and it still makes me warm and gooey.
The drive back is a quiet kind of comfortable. I lean my head against the window, staring blankly at the darkened vineyards.
When we pull up to the house, Gavin is quick to come around to my side and open the passenger door.
“Very chivalrous,” I tell him, a cheek-splitting smile on my face.
“Get used to it.” He says it in a way that makes me think I might never open another car door again.
His hand rests on the small of my back as we walk toward the pool house, and the heat of it makes it hard to stay upright.
In the days that have followed our decision to give our relationship a real shot, it’s been one torturous moment to the next. We haven’t kissed, we’ve barely touched, but every moment is like standing at the center of a pressure cooker—the tension so palpable I can hardly see straight.
When we get to the door, the anticipation mounting within me is enough to make me dizzy. I’m not sure if he’ll leave me with just a simple goodbye or maybe more. I’m hoping for more.
“Well, this is it,” I say awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of my purse.
Gavin smiles, the lines around his hazel eyes creasing, his bun slightly askew.
I want to unravel his hair from the elastic and run my fingers through the strands.
He so rarely wears it down in public, and something about the thought of it loose and wild ignites something just as untamed in me—something I’ve never felt before.
“Stop looking at me like that, starlet.” He laughs, the apples of his cheeks slightly flushing.
“Like what?” I ask innocently.
He steps closer, his body heat warming mine by a few degrees. “Like you’re thinking what I’m thinking, and one of us has to hang onto some semblance of patience.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun.” I pout. “I think my patience is all run out.”
“I’m right there with you.” He sounds pained, as if it’s taking insurmountable amounts of strength to hold back.
“Maybe just a kiss goodnight? A little something to hold us over until tomorrow,” I counter, my breath already coming in sharply.
“Yeah,” he says. “Just a little something.”
I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze as his thumb smooths over my jaw.
His lips brush mine softly—so softly it almost hurts.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“I’m trying,” he says, voice barely there.
“To treat you the way you deserve. A good man walks you to your door.” He kisses me again, deeper.
“He doesn’t come inside and strip that little dress off you.
” Another kiss, his tongue coaxing mine.
“He definitely doesn’t fuck you against the wall in nothing but your high heels. ”
I start to squirm. I’m not sure if he meant to get me worked up, but he got me there anyway. I’m seconds away from dragging him inside the pool house and making him keep good on everything he just said. My thighs press together, a needy desire coursing through me.
“Gavin,” I sigh, and it comes out a desperate plea.
“I know, baby,” he says, cradling my face.
Baby.
I’m absolutely useless now, a melted puddle on the floor.
He kisses me again, slower, unhurried—like he’s savoring me. When he breaks the embrace, he takes a measured step back, an attempt to not touch me again.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I echo.