Nineteen
Trinity
I watch as Greyson slicks a scoop of gel through his hair, sculpting it to perfection. The transformation from laid-back doctor to dashing groomsman is almost complete, and my pulse picks up a notch. We’re getting ready for Frankie and Penn’s wedding at his condo, and we’ve only grown closer over this past week. More than ever, I know leaving will be hard, and this week may be the week I have to pull the Band-Aid off and decide when I’m going to return to Vancouver. It all depends on what the doctor tells me about my mom’s condition. No matter what, I’ll be back, but I know it won’t be the same.
Greyson slides into his tuxedo jacket, and my knees wobble helplessly. “You look incredible,” I breathe, the words feeling inadequate for the man standing before me.
“Thanks,” he says, his tone nonchalant. “ But you know, all men look good in a tux.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror, a playful challenge in their depths. I shake my head. Sure, all men might look good in a tux, but Greyson looks like he’s been poured into his, every line and curve accentuated to devastating effect.
His gaze drops to the sapphire blue cocktail dress he’s chosen for me, the sparkles catching the light as I shift uneasily. “It’s beautiful, but isn’t it too short?” I question, smoothing the hem nervously.
He steps closer, his hands finding my bare arms. “You have fantastic legs,” he assures me, sending shivers down my spine. Before I can protest further, he pulls me close, his mouth descending on mine in a kiss that’s both a promise and a warning. His hands find the small of my back, and I gasp, breaking away with a laugh. “You can’t do that at the reception,” I warn, even as my heart races with the desire for him to do exactly that.
“I won’t,” he promises, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that tells me it’ll be a promise hard to keep.
We arrive at the church early, Greyson striding confidently ahead as I trail behind, our hands firmly clasped. Greyson’s the only groomsman, a testament to his bond with Penn, and I stand aside as they pose together for photographs, the bride and groom artfully kept out of each other’s sight.
I find myself caught between the joy of this moment and the ache of knowing it won’t last. I tell myself it’s enough, that the present has value on its own, but I’m not sure I can keep being a person who leaves when everything starts to feel real. Unfortunately, it seems that’s not what I want this time.
As the church begins to fill, a sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces turns toward me. Greyson is off to attend to his duties, and I’m searching for a place to blend in when Tarryn, all smiles and radiance, waves energetically from across the room. I walk over to her pew and slide in beside her.
“Trinity! You made it—and with Greyson, no less,” she exclaims, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been busy playing matchmaker and trying to get all the tables arranged correctly. Ryker and Beckett brought their latest flings. Luckily, they’re sisters, so I lumped them together.”
“Resourceful as ever,” I reply, chuckling. “So you’re doing double duty here—guest and reception site coordinator. Who did you bring along for the ride? Or are you flying solo?”
Tarryn shrugs nonchalantly, her gaze drifting over the crowd. “Who has time to meet men when there’s a winery to run?” There’s a lighthearted sigh in her voice, but I can sense a touch of longing too.
“Seems to me like you’re not looking hard enough,” I tease, scanning the congregation myself. The gender ratio seems decidedly skewed. “This place is practically swarming with men.”
“Ah, but I have my eye on a certain subset.” With a sly grin, she inclines her head toward a cluster of well-built men, some accompanied by dates, others sitting with the easy camaraderie of bachelors. Penn’s friends , she mouths, and then leans in to whisper conspiratorially. “They’re firefighters.”
“Really now?” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Well, in that case, you should take two.” Our laughter mingles, a brief respite from the nerves that flutter just beneath my skin.
The organist begins a soft melody, and the crowd quiets. Penn and Greyson take their spots at the front of the church.
“Careful what you wish for,” Tarryn teases, nudging me. Her laughter fades as her gaze shifts to Greyson, standing at the altar. “Looks like your wish is already waiting for you.”
I watch as Frankie is ushered into the back of the church, a vision in the timeless beauty of her grandmother’s wedding dress. The fabric whispers tales of a bygone era, echoing with the love and patience of those who waited through war and uncertainty to celebrate their union.
The opening notes of “Canon in D” float through the air, pure and resonant, as Frankie begins her walk down the aisle with her father. The sight of her mother, dabbing away tears with a tissue, pulls at my heartstrings, and I feel unexpectedly moved by the emotion on display.
I’m no stranger to weddings, but there’s something different about this one. It’s not just the full Catholic mass, which unfolds with a rhythm and grandeur that captivates me despite my unfamiliarity. It’s the sense of community, the threads of shared history that weave through the pews and bind everyone here together.
As the priest finally pronounces them man and wife, the church erupts into cheers. I join in, clapping loudly, swept up in the joy of the moment.
Eventually, we follow the wedding party out of the church, and I wait patiently at Greyson’s Land Rover. The parking lot slowly empties, and I feel silly just standing here, but finally, Greyson appears.
“Sorry it took so long,” he says with a wave. “Photos.”
“No worries. I figured as much. I could have gone over to the reception with Tarryn.”
He shakes his head. “You would have hated that. She would have put you to work.”
“Thank you. I’m not really wearing the proper shoes to be on my feet all night.”
“Trust me, you won’t be on your feet all night,” he says as he helps me into the car. “But I do hope we can keep the shoes on.”
I shake my head. “What is it with men and stilettos?”
He shrugs as he rounds the car. “All I know is you look damn sexy in those shoes,” he explains as he starts the engine.
When we arrive at the reception, the restaurant has been elegantly transformed, with white roses on each table and as always, the gorgeous view of the vines and Black Bear Lake.
“I have to do a couple of things, but you’re sitting next to me at dinner,” Greyson says. “We’re at a table with my brothers and sister and their dates.”
“Okay. I’ll manage.” I wave goodbye to him as we walk into the room, and Tarryn immediately joins me as Greyson departs.
“Sorry I took off after the service,” she says. “I needed to get here quickly so everything would be ready on time.”
“Of course,” I assure her. “This looks wonderful. But I hope you’ll get to enjoy the reception at least a little bit.”
Tarryn watches the firemen across the room. “I certainly plan to.”
The reception is brimming with Penn’s fellow firefighters. As we admire them, a tall man with shoulders that seem like they could easily carry the weight of collapsed walls, strides toward us, a glass of sparkling wine in hand.
“Tarryn, always a pleasure,” he says, his voice smooth like the liquid gold he hands her. He turns to me. “And you must be Trinity.”
“Why, yes, I am,” I reply.
He introduces himself as Paul Berry, and it’s easy to volley back the playful banter for a while, but eventually I feel like a third wheel. I should leave Tarryn to her potential conquest.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, slipping away under the pretense of needing the restroom.
Inside the ladies’ room, I take my time, appreciating a few moments of solitude. Then laughter echoes off the tiles as two women burst in.
“Did you see Greyson at the altar?” one gushes. “I swear, I almost marched up there to have the priest swap me in.”
The other chuckles. “Well, tonight’s your chance. You said you were taking him home.”
“Plan to,” the first confirms confidently.
They can’t see me in the stall, but the notion of Greyson leaving with someone else tightens my chest, a twinge of possessiveness flaring within me. It’s ridiculous. Greyson and I have an agreement—for now, at least. Yet the thought of him with another ignites something primal and territorial.
I shake it off, reminding myself this is all temporary, and anyway, just because someone says something doesn’t make it so. Still, as I flush and step out, I can’t help feeling unsettled.
I wash my hands and shake them free of excess water before reaching for a paper towel. The two women are still there, their eyes following me as I blot my lips and apply a fresh coat of ruby lipstick.
“Are you friends with the bride or groom?” the taller one asks.
“Neither,” I reply, capping my lipstick and slipping it back into my clutch. “I’m a guest. But I’ve met Frankie a few times.” Nonchalant, I lean against the counter. “And who do you know here?”
The shorter girl steps forward, flicking her chestnut hair over her shoulder. “We went to high school with Penn and Greyson. Cheerleaders,” she adds, as if it explains everything, her pride unmistakable. “They were the basketball stars.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” I nod. There’s a pause, a breath before the next move.
“I’ve waited all this time, and now, I’m going to make my move,” the shorter girl says, stepping closer to the mirror. “Greyson’s going home with me tonight.” Her confidence is sharp, almost cutting, but I meet her gaze evenly.
“If you say so,” I respond lightly. I extend my hand, staying friendly. “I’m Trinity Blaine.”
“Jody Meyer,” the shorter woman returns the introduction, her grip firm.
“Kristen Rogers,” offers the second.
“Nice to meet you both,” I say. And then, without another word, I step out into the corridor, ready to return to the celebration.
Just as I reach the main room, Tarryn materializes beside me. “Greyson’s looking for you,” she says with a nudge in her brother’s direction.
“Ran into Jody Meyer and Kristen Rogers back there,” I murmur as we walk. “They seem…interesting.”
Tarryn snorts, rolling her eyes. “Dumb and Dumber from high school.” She shakes her head. “Believe it or not, they tried working at the restaurant here as hostesses. Couldn’t even manage that without causing chaos.”
I just nod and smile.
We step out onto the patio, which is highlighted by a blooming magnolia tree standing majestic against the setting sun, its petals drifting like soft, pink confetti. Greyson spots us and beckons me over. Frankie and Penn stand beside him, their faces radiant.
“Thank you for including me in your big day,” I say as I approach.
Penn grins. “Delighted you’re here. Truly.”
Frankie nods, her eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.”
I slip into place beside Greyson, his presence solid and reassuring. The photographer appears and adjusts his lens, motioning for us to huddle closer beneath the blossoms. We close the gaps and smile together, and for a moment, all the uncertainties fade away. We are simply friends celebrating love under the tender watch of nature’s confetti.
When the wedding party is called away, I glide back into the reception. Tarryn’s already at our table, swirling her drink and watching the crowd with a keen eye. I settle beside her just as the DJ’s voice booms through the speakers.
“Please welcome the wedding party to the dance floor!”
Applause erupts, and I join in, my palms stinging slightly from the enthusiasm. The maid of honor, Frankie’s younger sister, sashays into view, and Greyson, dapper and debonair, takes her hand to lead her in a dance. Their movements are fluid as if they’ve spent hours ensuring this moment would be remembered.
On the other side of the dance floor, Penn and Frankie come together in an embrace. There’s a magic to the way they move, a poetry in motion that tugs at something wistful deep inside me .
The song ends, the dancers part, and the DJ begins directing guests toward the buffet. That’s when I see Jody and Kristin, heads together, laughter sharp. They weave through the crowd, their heels clicking on the polished floor on their way to the food.
I’m about to turn away when Greyson’s arm encircles my waist, his touch firm and warm. He pulls me close, and for a moment, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the room. The noise fades, the crowd blurs, and all I can focus on is the steady beat of his heart against my back.
“Having fun?” he whispers, breath tickling my ear.
“More than I expected,” I admit, leaning into his embrace, aware of Jody and Kristin’s glares. But with Greyson here, their icy stares can’t touch me.
Eventually, it’s our turn at the buffet, and we load our plates and then dine with Greyson’s brothers and their guests. Sometimes, buffets make me nervous, but this meal is marvelous—a gorgeous salad, followed by pan-seared Chilean sea bass and grilled filet mignon with a cheesy rosemary polenta and buttery cornbread. Yum . Rather than a head table, the bride and groom are seated at a small table all their own, leaving the rest of us free to be more relaxed. I like it.
The clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation fills the air as dinner winds down. I’m still savoring the last bite when Greyson stands, and the DJ brings him a microphone, announcing it’s time for his speech. The room quiets, all eyes on him.
“All right, everyone,” Greyson begins. “I think it’s safe to say that Penn and I weren’t exactly what you’d call model students back in the day.”
A ripple of laughter travels through the guests, and Penn shakes his head.
“We broke every rule we could find, and when we couldn’t find any, well, we made our own.” Greyson pauses as the audience grows louder, some people shouting playful jabs while others chuckle.
“Then this guy,” he continues, nodding toward Penn, “decides to go off to Gonzaga and be a basketball star. Well, more like bench warmer extraordinaire.”
He winks at Penn, who retorts without missing a beat, “Hey, we won March Madness my third year! And I’ve got the ring to prove it!”
The room erupts into laughter again.
“That’s actually true,” Greyson concedes. “But I’ve never been prouder than when Penn returned to Paradise. To become a firefighter, no less.” Greyson’s voice resonates through the hall, and I can see the pride in his eyes.
“And then there’s Frankie,” he says, his gaze softening as he looks at the bride. “I’ll never forget the day Penn met her down at the waterfront. Man, did he fall for her, literally tripped over his own feet.”
A collective aww rises from the guests, and Frankie’s cheeks glow a delightful shade of pink.
“Watching them together, watching their love grow… It’s the kind of thing you read about in storybooks. I wasn’t sure love like my parents’ existed elsewhere until I saw these two.”
The room has fallen silent now, hanging on his every word.
“Let’s raise our glasses,” Greyson concludes, lifting his champagne flute high in the air. “To an amazing couple, to a love that defies odds, and to a future brighter than any of us could have imagined. Penn and Frankie remind me what love looks like when it’s fearless, when it’s worth every risk. Let’s toast to that kind of love.”
“Here, here!” I echo, raising my glass with a sea of others. Warmth spreads through me as I watch two people so clearly meant for each other bask in the glow of their special day.