Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Bridger
“Whoa.”
Dexter stares at us from across the table. There’s a smear of mustard on his mustache, and one bite taken from his sandwich. Sayla sits beside him, frozen, her fork suspended in midair.
“Are we allowed to respond now?” she asks.
“By all means,” I say. “You’ve both been very patient.”
“Dude.” Dex sets down his turkey club.
“DUDE!” Sayla stabs her fork into the center of her Cobb salad.
We’re at a four-top at Fig & Apple, and the sounds of lunchtime hum around us.
Hostess greetings at the door. The scrape of utensils on plates.
A crackle of laughter from the corner table.
Meanwhile, our best friends are gaping at us like we just grew third heads after growing second ones.
Which, under the circumstances, would probably be less shocking than everything we just told them.
On the drive back to Harvest Hollow, Loren and I agreed we’d wait until everybody’s food arrived before hitting them with our news.
So Sayla and Dex shared some highlights of their honeymoon, then caught us up on the progress of their projects at Stony Peak.
After the server dropped off our orders, Loren nudged me under the table, our signal to hijack the small talk.
Her exact words were this:
“We have some pretty big news to share, and we just need you to sit quietly and listen until we’re finished.”
To their credit, they fully complied, remaining silent and mostly still while Loren and I each took turns rambling.
Eventually, our friends’ mouths dropped open, and their eyes grew wide.
At one point, they exchanged glances with each other, like they were having some kind of private conversation minus the speaking.
Must be a couple thing.
“I know this is all a lot to take in,” I say, pointlessly handing each of them a fresh napkin from the dispenser.
“Correction.” Dex gulps, like he forgot the bite of sandwich lodged in his throat. “Just finding out you’re rich is a lot. And finding out you’re the anonymous donor is huge.”
“But you two already have a wedding license,” Sayla chokes, “and you’re getting married tomorrow?” Her gaze bounces between Loren and me. “That’s …”
“Incredibly convenient?” Loren offers.
“Terrific news?” I suggest.
“No, it’s gargantuan!” She snatches up her water glass and gulps half of it down, while Dex swipes the napkin over the lower half of his face.
“So basically,” he says, “my best friend’s been Batman all this time.”
“Basically.”
“Yes!” he hoots, reaching across the table for a fist-bump.
“Excuse me.” Loren tips her chin. “Who’s Robin in this scenario? Is it me? Or you, Dex?”
“You’d both look pretty cute in tights and tunics,” Sayla says, setting down her glass. “But I might need a minute for my brain to catch up with all of this.”
“I don’t need a minute,” Dex says. “I already love this for you.” He shifts his blinding smile to Loren. “For both of you.”
Ladies and gentlemen, the best man on the planet. My best man. Dexter Michaels.
More than anything, I want to blurt out that I love our plan too. That being in the possession of a license to marry Loren Elise Cane makes the skies bluer. That I’m seeing smiley faces in the clouds.
But A. I’m not a Disney princess.
And B. A part of me is as much terrified as I am elated. Because even the happiest happily-ever-afters have villains. Loren and I are facing more than one. Financial challenges. Legal challenges. Health challenges.
Margaret Adams.
But all that truly matters to me now is keeping Loren and her father safe. Their security is my number one priority. And that’s why our plan has to be foolproof.
“What about you?” Loren asks Sayla, and her breath hitches on the question. “How many minutes do you think your brain will need to … catch up on all of this?”
Sayla’s eyes soften, and she reaches across the table to squeeze Loren’s hand. “You are a glorious superstar who contains multitudes. And if you think marrying Bridger is a good idea, I will support you.”
“Me too,” Dex pipes up. “Obviously.”
Loren smiles. “That is the best, most gargantuan news of all.”
“I agree,” I say. “Because if we’re going to become Mr. and Mrs. Adams tomorrow, my future wife and I will need your help.”
By the end of our lunch, the four of us have outlined a loose plan. Dex even scribbled notes on both sides of a napkin to keep track of our roles. He’s quite the secretary.
OPERATION FOOL MARGARET!!
brIDGER:
- Pick out rings
- Venmo Sayla cash for flowers
- Make appointment with magistrate
- Get tux at He Wed She Wed
DEX & SAYLA:
(Drop off Loren then split up)
DEX:
- Arrange limo and driver for tomorrow
- Make awesome playlist for ceremony
SAYLA:
- Order bouquets and boutonnieres
- Plan photo and video ops for Margaret (goal: maximum believability)
LOREN:
- Get manicure (nails on point for ring pics)
- Check on Dad
- Sneak wedding dress out of house
This last bullet point refers to the dress Loren bought last year. To marry Foster. She got it on clearance, so there was no chance of returning the thing. And it’s never been worn. So she insisted on using it tomorrow.
This does not make me feel good. For the record.
Also not great? Deceiving Loren’s dad. But we agreed that trying to explain things to Harlan could risk confusing him.
Or worse, earn us his disapproval. So as much as I’d love to talk to the man and convince him of my pure intentions, that’s not what this plan is about.
And whatever's best for Harlan Cane’s peace of mind is what’s best for Loren Elise Cane Adams.
That’s all I care about.
Period.
Once we’re squared away, the ladies excuse themselves to the bathroom. Dex waits for them to be out of earshot. Then he leans over the table.
“Okay, I’ve been sitting here thinking, and I just have to ask.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me about the whole trust thing earlier?” He clears his throat. “Because I’m not trying to take this personally, but …”
“No, I get it.” I blow out a breath. “It’s pretty … jarring.”
“Yeah.”
“Would you believe me if I said the money never felt like some big secret?”
“Come on.” He smirks. “How can a massive trust fund be anything but big? Especially when your donation helped us rebuild the gym and the theater. That was super personal, man. I think I can speak for Sayla when I tell you we would’ve wanted to thank you. At the very least.”
“The thing is …” I take a beat, trying to decide how to explain this.
“I’d walked away from all that years ago.
I never even thought about the family business anymore.
Or the money. That’s the truth. Once I started a new life here, I just wanted to be the man you know.
Bridger Adams, science teacher. I never planned to access the trust. Ever. ”
“Until Sayla and I needed the money.”
“It wasn’t like that.” I shake my head. “All Batman jokes aside, I’m not trying to be a hero here. Please don’t take it that way. I wasn’t looking for credit. Hence, the anonymous part. I just had the means to help. That’s all.”
“And you did help,” he says. “A lot.”
“Which felt good,” I admit. “For the first time, I let myself think the trust could make a difference, you know? In a positive way. I wanted to keep the donations going. But then my mother and her lawyers came after me, and I remembered exactly why I walked away in the first place. I decided to step away again. Far away. But now …”
Dex rubs his beard. “Now you want to help Loren.”
“Yeah, and other good causes,” I say.
His mouth goes crooked.
“Okay. Mostly Loren.”
He glances across the restaurant in the direction of the bathroom. “Does she have any idea how you really feel about her?”
“No.” My jaw tenses. “And I’m not going to say anything. You aren’t either.”
“But—”
“Just this morning, when we were hashing all this out, she confirmed that relationships are still way off her radar.”
“Besides getting married?” Dex guffaws. “I hate to break it to you, my man, but that’s a relationship. As far as I’m concerned, it’s kind of the primary one.”
“You know what I mean.” I pull in my brow. “Since Foster, Loren made it clear she’s done with men. And even if she hadn’t said those words, a lot, I wasn’t going to jump in right after … him.” Just saying the man’s name leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“Yeah.” Dex bobs his head. “I get that. But it’s been months.”
“Exactly. Loren trusts me now. And she needs me. If I even hinted that my feelings were deeper, I’m afraid she might not let me do this for her. In her mind, we’re just a couple of friends, helping each other out. I can’t let hoping for more ruin this.”
“So you’re just gonna put a ring on her finger, move in with the woman, and pine away for her in silence?”
“Pretty much.”
“Good luck with that, man.”
My chest tightens. “I have zero expectations of us ever being anything but platonic friends,” I say. “That’s not what marrying her is about. I can promise you.”
“You don’t think that’ll be hard?”
“I don’t care if it’s torture,” I say. “I’ll do anything to make sure Loren gets the stable, secure future she deserves.”
“What if she finds out? Aren’t you a little afraid she might feel … manipulated? Like you married her to take advantage? Or used your money to get what you want?”
My nostrils flare. “She can’t find out. That’s the answer.”
“All right, brother.” Dex blows out a breath. “I hear you. Loud and clear. But I’ve still gotta be me, you know. If I don’t joke around with you two a little, Loren will know something’s up. That woman’s smart.”
“She is. So just be normal, all right?” I smirk. “Or as normal as you can be. Because this is important. I’m telling you, she can’t go on like she has been.”
He winces. “How bad is her dad?”
“Harlan’s amazing,” I say. “She adores him and the feeling’s clearly mutual. But—”
“Hey, there they are!” Dex cuts me off, grinning widely as Loren and Sayla approach our table. “Our better halves, back from the bathroom. Welcome. Welcome.”
“What were you two gossiping about?” Sayla asks, sliding back into her seat.
“Probably the same stuff you ladies talked about while you pretended you both had to pee at the same time.”
“Probably not,” Sayla says, “I was trying to talk Loren into wearing my wedding dress instead of the one she bought for he who shall not be named. I told her she could still try to sell the thing on eBay, but she turned me down.”
“That’s good,” Dex says.
Sayla scoffs. “Why?”
“Because Loren’s old dress is already in my notes. Two-sided.” He waves the napkin at her, very proud of himself. “Also, I love you, baby, and you have such a big heart, but Loren’s … ummm … heart area is just a little bigger. I’m not sure she could zip the top of your dress all the way up.”
“Who cares? Cleavage is in,” Sayla quips.
Loren rolls her eyes. “Let me know when you kids are done analyzing my curves.”
“For the record”—I nod to indicate Sayla and Dex—“those two kids were discussing your curves. I’m marrying you for your brains.”
“Yeah.” Dex coughs into his hand. “Keep telling yourself that, man.”
I push out a chuckle, playing along, but the truth is, the last thing I want is for Loren to wear a dress she bought for Foster.
In fact …
I just may have to do something about that.