Chapter 3 Noah
three
Noah
Willow Fontaine doesn’t even see my proffered arm, just looks straight ahead, lips pursed. Shouldn’t she be happier about her friend getting married? She’s who made this happen. Maybe she’s worried about Alex, who’s now leaning heavily on Chris? That would be like her.
I take her arm to avoid us both suffering the consequences of not following Ms. Angela’s instructions, and she stiffens. “Everything okay?” I ask under my breath, leaning into her.
She wiggles and tucks something under her arm. “Yup,” she quips, avoiding my gaze.
I adjust my glasses and scan the crowd. This wedding should be the perfect opportunity for me to meet the future Mrs. Callaway, yet the thought of why I’m even thinking that way revolts me. It’s not like I can even think about flirting with someone. That’d be just plain… wrong.
We reach the end of the aisle, and Willow worms herself out of my hold to dash to the bar, leaving me standing stupidly, thinking I should just join her. Drown my worries for once.
But Lane interrupts my thoughts as she slides by my side. “What happened to your tie?” She frowns as she takes the bowtie between two fingers, examining it.
“Cass made me swap. Don’t ask me why.”
A small smile brightens her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Happy you’re finally back.” Even if it’s only for the summer. Even if it may be our last one here.
She pecks my cheek. “Try to socialize for once. With women, you know—not your geeky friends. Get back in the game.”
She needs to stop worrying about me. Especially over my fiancée.
Water under the bridge and all that. “I’m not heartbroken.
” Probably the only reason I haven’t been “back in the game” is that marriage clause.
It was bound to taint any relationship. When I proposed to Anika, I didn’t even know about the clause.
Dad told me shortly after, and I’d thought of it as anecdotal.
Then Dad passed away, Anika decided we weren’t a good fit after all, and suddenly I was having Tamberly on speed dial.
Lane shrugs. “Just out of practice, I know.” Leaning toward me, she says, “How about Willow? You guys looked cute together.”
“She’s alright,” I pretend to agree. In all fairness, Willow is hot, and that’s all my sister meant.
But Lane is only talking about casual dating, and I’m still holding on to a thread of hope that by some miracle, I’ll find a wife over the summer.
And for that, I’ll need someone reliable, discreet, who’ll understand the assignment and stick to it.
Willow is a loose cannon, totally unpredictable, and she doesn’t follow rules.
Besides, she clearly wants nothing to do with me.
Lane squeezes my elbow. “I’m gonna go hang out with her for a bit. We haven’t caught up in a while.”
“I don’t remember you being close,” I say, although in this small town, everyone is friends with everyone.
“She used to tutor me in middle school,” Lane reminds me as she leaves my side.
I’d forgotten about that. It was after Mom passed away. Our lives were upside down, but the town rallied to help us the best way they could. Fuck it, I can’t lose this. We can’t lose this community.
I push my glasses up my nose. How do I walk up to a woman and ask her to marry me? It has got to be the most fucking awkward thing ever. Yet I’d do it if I thought there was any chance I could find someone who’d say yes.
How do I even broach the topic?
I might need to talk to Beck after all. He’s always chasing one woman or the other.
It wouldn’t be hard for him, would it? Maybe he’d be happy.
Maybe she would too, whoever she may be at the moment.
Who knows? Maybe that’s just the nudge he needs to settle down.
After that, it’s just a matter of appointing him trustee.
Here he comes, one beer in each hand. He hands me one and slaps my back. “Another one bites the dust. Looks like the Callaway brothers are the only smart ones standing.”
Right. Beck will never be that guy.
I clink his bottle, hiding my bitterness behind words he expects. “Yeah… lucky us.”
Later in the evening, while Willow is giving a speech, that I have to admit is funny, about how Kiara and Colton finally got together, her phone dings, catching my attention. She placed it on her chair when she left the table, and the screen now displays a low balance alert before going dark again.
Hmm.
Dude, this is none of your business.
Embarrassed that I’m now privy to something I shouldn’t know, I push her chair under the table so I’m not tempted to look again.
But I can feel the thought forming from the depths of my desperation, and this time, with the help of a little bourbon, I’m going to let it blossom. See where that takes me.
I sit back in my chair, cross my arms, and focus my attention back on Willow, who now has the whole town laughing.
Let’s see. For starters, she’s not unpleasant to look at, which shouldn’t even factor in, but I can’t help where my mind goes when I look at her.
More importantly, she’s no nonsense. She’ll get the transactional and temporary part without needing loads of explanations. But she’s also selfless, if her being a volunteer adaptive ski instructor is any indication. I don’t see her pulling some blackmail or getting unreasonably greedy.
Even more importantly, she loves Emerald Creek. I wouldn’t even consider this with someone who doesn’t.
And… I should have started with that, but by all accounts she’s single, which I’ll admit is surprising, but plays in my favor.
It’s actually the only hard prerequisite for what I have in mind.
If I’m honest, an unpredictable loose cannon who doesn’t follow rules is who I need. And to continue with the honesty, the only reason I dismissed her earlier is because she can be a bit… intimidating.
I gulp my liquid courage and watch her walk back to the table.
She stands in front of me. “We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to,” she says.