Chapter 20 #2
“You guys are starting to make me feel left out.” Cozy winces and blows out her cinnamon breath all over us. “I’m going to make Max build us a cabin on Fletcher Mountain.”
“Do it!” Dakota slaps her hands on the table. “Max is so rich, it’d be like nothing to him. You guys deserve a mountain getaway
house.”
“He does have a house in Aspen though,” Cozy replies regretfully.
Dakota shoots Trista a flat look. “When she says things like that it makes her really unrelatable.”
“Shut up!” Cozy whacks Dakota on the arm and Dakota nearly spills her drink, causing all four of us to erupt in laughter.
I shake my head, sipping my beer at a much slower pace than the rest of these girlies. This is giving Mexico vibes all over
again, and these broads couldn’t hold their liquor then either.
But I have to admit, I’m having a blast. After I found a dress that literally took my breath away and didn’t need a spec of
alterations on, we all went to dinner together and afterward, the girls convinced Johanna to take us to Pearl Street and we’ve
been bar hopping ever since.
Jo stuck with us for the first stop, sipping her demure club soda and enjoying the live band, but then I think she could see
where the day was headed and got the hell out of Dodge. The last thing she said to us was to be sure to call one of the boys
when we needed a ride back up to Fletcher Mountain.
Johanna paused briefly before she hugged me goodbye, almost as if she was waiting for me to be ready for it. And something
in that subtle shift in her embrace made me not recoil like I normally would have. I have to hand it to Luke’s mom . . . the
woman can roll with the punches pretty well. I suppose having four boys would make her pretty used to adapting to all types
of situations. And these three women around me have only added more color to the Fletcher family madness.
“Can we give her her gift now?” Trista asks, drumming her hands loudly on the table.
“You guys didn’t have to get me a gift.”
“You’re going to love it.” Dakota reaches under the table and pulls out a white bridal bag that I noticed she was carrying
around from bar to bar. But I guess I didn’t think to ask her what was inside of it.
“I think Luke is going to love it a bit more,” Cozy adds with a wink.
I look inside the bag and wince when I see a whole lot of lace and straps. I slam the bag closed and shake my head. “You guys.”
“Come on, pull it out!” Trista cheers, shoving the bag at me.
I exhale heavily and pull out the tiny two pieces of lingerie. It’s a white lace embroidered set with lots of room for cleavage
and ass.
“For your wedding night.” Cozy smiles and nudges me with her arm.
“Although technically she already had a wedding night,” Dakota corrects.
“You mean you’re not a virgin?” Trista sputters out a laugh, her curly chestnut hair looking bigger and bigger with every
bar stop
I just shake my head and quietly tuck the tiny slips of fabric away. Imagining wearing that in front of Luke has my cheeks
flushing with heat that I really don’t need these ladies to call me out on.
He’s been texting me all day, checking in to make sure I’m doing okay. I sent him a pic of us and the girls at the last bar
and he sent me a couple of beer mugs cheers-ing each other.
Maybe I should send him a pic of this lingerie and see what he has to say to that.
That would be too weird, right? He’d think I was a creep.
Or a pervert. I know there’s been some type of flirting happening between us lately.
Even last night after I trauma dumped my mommy issues on him, we had a moment in the kitchen where I was showing him how to prep my bread and I swear to God, I think he was hard while he was doing it.
I mean . . . I’m not judging him for it. I get horned up when I make bread too. But Luke was definitely not just interested
in the bread making last night. Not with the way his chocolate-brown eyes raked over me every time my hands touched his to
help him with the dough.
The man has great hands.
Large and warm and rough in all the right places.
“I’ve never worn lingerie for Wyatt,” Trista says with a frown. “Maybe I should try it. Spice things up a bit again now that
Stevie is older and sleeping through the night.”
“Oh please.” Dakota rolls her eyes. “You two do not need any help spicing things up. You’re going to be pregnant again soon
enough.”
“No I’m not!” Trista points an accusatory finger at Dakota. “Animal rescue facility first. Then we can talk about baby number
two.”
“Where are you at with the rescue center, Trista?” Cozy asks, sipping her White Claw.
“Luke is drawing up a proposal for me now.” She smiles brightly. “I can’t believe I’m really doing it. I’m going to build
my own rescue center on Fletcher Mountain or as I like to call it . . . Mount Millie.”
Cozy leans over to me and says, “It took the entire family to strong-arm Trista into accepting the plot of land from Wyatt.”
“Oh really? How come?” I ask Trista.
“Because I don’t need to be saved by a man, damn it!” Trista harrumphs and takes a sip of her drink. “But Wyatt is so damn
pushy.”
“Calder too,” Dakota confirms.
“Max is unreasonable!” Cozy chimes in.
“They always try to white-knight us.” Trista narrows her eyes as she tosses her drink straw onto the table. “And even if you
have valid reasons for going against what they want for you, they just strong-arm you until you give in.”
All three women voice their tones of agreement and then look expectantly at me to join in. I hesitate with how to respond
because, honestly, I fully agree with them. Luke white-knighted his way into matrimony with me, being so insistent I marry
him and no one else that he learned how to be a lumberjack for me.
That’s outrageous!
And sweet as hell.
If I think about it too much, I get tears in my eyes.
But admittedly, as a husband . . . he kind of rocks. “I wish I could join you ladies and tell you that Luke is a pain in my
ass but I’m afraid I can’t. He’s just too amazing.”
“Shut up,” Dakota groans.
“No really, he is,” I reply honestly. “And he’s fun. Like last night when I showed him how to stretch and fold sourdough—”
“Is that what the kids are calling it now?” Dakota sputters out a laugh.
My cheeks flame red. “That is not what I meant. You guys know I make bread.”
“Oh yeah . . . make bread.” Trista begins making lewd hand gestures.
“Did his dough rise to the occasion?” Cozy waggles her eyebrows at me.
“Do you think he tried to pump-her-nickel?” Trista chirps and bursts into a fit of giggles.
“Most definitely,” Dakota confirms. “And I bet he’s so nice he even announces when he’s going to crumb.”
“Guys, be careful,” Cozy interjects, using her firm mom voice. “Too much yeast will ruin it for everyone.”
The three women burst out laughing like cackling hens and I can’t help but join in. We laugh so hard, I have to wipe tears out of my eyes. “Damn, I thought the guys at the yard were disgusting but you fine ladies are putting them to shame.”
“You’re welcome,” Dakota says with a smile.
“But the truth is,” Cozy interjects, hooking her thumb over to me. “Addison has no issues with Luke yet because they’re still
in the honeymoon phase.”
“I must admit I’m still there too a little bit,” Dakota says, raising her hand. “Living with Calder is . . .” She shivers
at something I do not want to unpack.
“It’ll change,” Trista says with a serious face. “When real-life bullshit bleeds into your happy Fletcher Mountain love bubble . . .”
She sighs heavily. “It really puts a damper on things.”
Dakota and Cozy both go quiet, clearly in the know about something going on with Trista that I’m not aware of.
“Everything okay?” I ask, tilting my head and watching the mood shift in Trista, who’s normally so happy and upbeat.
“It’s fine, I just got a call from my parents the other day and it’s really rattled me.”
I frown curiously. “Do you not have a good relationship with them?”
“I haven’t spoken to them in years. Didn’t even know where they lived.”
My throat feels dry as I immediately relate to her circumstances, shocked that we have something so traumatic in common. The
timing of this discussion is wild because my heart is still recovering from my emotional confession to Luke last night. Discussing
my mom’s final departure from my life was so not on my bingo card this week. Nor his, I’m sure. The poor guy probably just
made bread with me because he felt sorry for me.
But once I started opening up, I couldn’t stop.
I’ve lived so much of my adult life wondering what would have changed if only my mom had said goodbye.
If only she’d given me one final hug, maybe I wouldn’t wince at the touch of other women and live with this uncertainty about what I’d be like as a mother.
To know Trista can relate on any level is shocking. Confessing my past with these women, kind as they may be, will take me
some time, but I can’t help the words that tumble out of my mouth next.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, feeling like the beer is giving me a bit of liquid courage. “From everything that I can
see, you’re an amazing mom and you and Wyatt are perfect for each other.”
“What’s the question?” Trista eyes me thoughtfully.
“If you had such shitty parents, weren’t you terrified of turning out just like them?”
Trista’s face scrunches up in disgust. “God no. I’d never be like them because I’ll never join a cult for one and—” she huffs
out a shaky breath before adding “—I’d kill myself before I let my kid go hungry.”
Silence descends over the table as the weight of that last statement resonates with us. Trista’s eyes well with tears and
I feel my own begin to blur as I stare at her. She’s being so open and vulnerable.
God that must feel good.
“I almost turned out like my parents,” Dakota interjects with a pensive look. “But I got out of my shitty marriage and didn’t
let it turn me bitter. Then I found Calder and I can just tell it’s right. I’m not ready for marriage or anything, since it
feels like I just got divorced. But . . . he’s it for me. I can be myself with him and that’s what I was missing from before.”
Cozy squeezes Dakota’s hand and adds with a soft smile, “I think I brought the best out in Max when we met. He needed someone
to tell him it was okay to take a breath and I like being that soft space for him.”
I smile through watery eyes as I look at the three amazing women standing before me, showing me everything they found in life, despite some of their circumstances. While they might have some complaints about the pushiness of their Fletcher men, I can tell deep down, they know they struck gold.
And so have I with Luke.
As a best friend.
“This is deep talk for a dive bar, you guys,” Trista mumbles around a chunk of ice.
Dakota nods aggressively. “Yeah, and this is supposed to be a bachelorette party, not a group therapy session.”
“Let’s go somewhere we can dance,” Cozy begs, her eyes flashing back and forth between all of us.
“It’s like four o’clock in the afternoon,” I laugh and glance at my phone to confirm the time.
Dakota grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “That’s never stopped us before.”