9. Trent
Chapter 9
Trent
The device on the table pings, alerting us that our song choice is coming up next.
“What song did you pick?” I ask Jenny as we slide out of the booth. The leather squeaks slightly under the movement, and the buzz of the room feels louder now that we’re standing.
“You think I’m just going to tell you?” she jokes, a playful glint in her eyes. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and smooths her shirt. She is clearly more nervous than she is letting on.
I glance back to see Greg and Niall each giving us an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Niall mouths something I can’t catch over the din of the bar, but his grin is unmistakable. My stomach flutters with butterflies—not because I’m nervous about dancing with Jenny, but because I haven’t had this much physical contact with her before.
As we step onto the dance floor, bathed in the warm glow of the lights, Jenny’s smile beams. She looks radiant, her cheeks flushed.
“You ready?” she asks, her voice carrying a mixture of excitement and challenge.
Nodding, I respond with a grin, “You bet your bass, I am! Of course, I’m ready!”
The opening notes of the song fill the room, the familiar melody sending a jolt of recognition through me. I break out into a huge grin—I couldn’t have picked a more perfect song if I’d tried.
Jenny steps forward as I take her hand in mine, and we start dancing to Bruno Mars’ “Marry You.” She is timid at first, barely moving as the music begins. The playful yet heartfelt lyrics are made even sweeter by the genuine look on Jenny’s face as she meets my eyes.
My heart swells. The two of us dancing to a song about doing something impulsive and wonderful like getting married feels almost too perfect. If there were ever a song to sum us up, this would be it.
“Is it that look in her eyes, or this dancing tune,” I paraphrase as I sing to her as we dance together, my voice smooth and confident. The room blurs around us, Jenny quietly joins in at the chorus, our voices blending effortlessly. Jenny’s eyes light up as I pull her into a gentle twirl. I know our relationship is just starting and everything we’re doing together is new for us, but something about all of it feels right.
She lets out a quiet laugh against my shoulder. “Fitting, don’t you think?”
My hand tightens slightly at her waist. “Almost too fitting.” The irony isn’t lost on either of us. We aren’t dancing like love-struck fools swept up in the moment. This is a deal, a logical arrangement—one that makes perfect sense on paper.
The dance floor lights reflect off her hair while she spins, and I catch the faint scent of her floral perfume as she steps back against me. Spurred on by the energy of the moment, our dance movements turn instinctive and unrehearsed. “Careful, Jenny. Keep looking at me like that, and people might think this is real.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t step away. “Wouldn’t want that.”
Holding her close, I feel her warmth, and as I spin her again, her laughter rings out lightly and melodically. The flush on her cheeks deepens, and the smile on her face radiates pure joy. Her eyes meet mine, shining with a mix of surprise and something deeper.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost believe our engagement was real.
It feels real.
It feels like this isn’t just a marriage of convenience—it feels like there could be something more. Something genuine.
As the song slows, I pull her close for a gentle sway. Her hands rest lightly on my shoulders, and my arms encircle her as I guide her into a slow dance. The world narrows to just the two of us, the lyrics fading into the background as I dip her slightly at the end of the song.
The music dies out, and for a brief moment, there’s silence. Then, a smattering of applause erupts from the crowd, and I don’t need to look to know that the loudest applause is coming from our booth.
“Hi,” I say softly as Jenny stands upright, the warmth of her hand still lingering against mine. Her eyes sparkle under the lights, and I notice her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice a mix of exhilaration and shyness. She leans in, her lips brushing my cheek in a quick, featherlight kiss. Her breath is warm against my skin as she whispers, “I think I want to marry you.”
At her perfect use of the lyrics from the song, a laugh bursts out of me, light and full of joy, as I sweep her into a hug. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I lift her off the ground, spinning her in a full circle. Her laughter bubbles out, clear and bright, mingling with the distant hum of applause still lingering in the room. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re getting married then,” I say.
When I set her down, her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is slightly out of place. I lean in and tuck a stray hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing her soft skin. She lightly leans into my touch, her breath escaping in a quiet exhale. I can’t help but smile as I take her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and guide her off the dance floor. The faint vibrations of the wooden floor beneath our feet and the muted clink of glasses from the bar fill the space as the performers prepare for the next song in their set.
We weave through the crowd back to our table. The air around us feels warmer, the energy buzzing as if the entire room had been lifted along with our emotions.
When we reach our friends, their faces are glowing with excitement.
“I know you two are getting married soon,” Holly says, her voice thick with emotion as she dabs at a tear sliding down her cheek, “but that was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“That should be your first dance song,” Gwen says, giving us a half-smile. “I’ll add it to the wedding notes.”
“Mate,” says Niall, his grin stretching ear to ear, “that was bloody brilliant. You two have real chemistry on the dance floor.” He gives a dramatic nod toward Gwen. “Almost tops Gwen and me singing together for the first time. Almost, but not quite.”
“Right,” I say, rolling my eyes, “I think we were a hundred times better with our dancing, but I may be a bit biased.”
Jenny snickers and smacks me lightly on the arm. “Oh, you,” she says, her lips curving into a grin as she shakes her head.
I wake up the next day a little earlier than normal, and even though we were out late last night, there’s a renewed energy coursing through me. The air feels crisp and cool as I stretch, and a sense of calm replaces the weight that’s been pressing on me for months. Managing the marina, worrying about its future—everything suddenly feels like it’s going to work out.
Last night, when Jenny and I got back to the marina, we said good night under the glow of the dock lights. She headed back to her cabin, and I returned to my house, the echo of her laughter still lingering in the quiet night air.
Now, lying in bed, I can’t help but think about the changes ahead: planning a wedding, getting a ring, marrying Jenny, living together. Dude, I’m going to have a wife soon. The realization hits me like a wave, both thrilling and surreal.
That thought pulls me out of bed. Padding barefoot across the cool wooden floor, I head down the hall and peak into one of the spare bedrooms. It smells faintly of cedar and salt, like the rest of the cabin, but the space feels impersonal. Sunlight filters through the slats of the blinds, illuminating the neutral walls and simple furniture. It’s been a guest room for years, functional but uninspired. I look over the rest of my home, the loft, living area, and kitchen, and a thought hits me. This house looks just like my office, lacking a woman’s touch. But I guess that’s all about to change. I can’t wait to see how Jenny makes this house a home.
After getting ready for the day, I head toward the office. The crisp morning air greets me as I step outside, carrying the faint scent of seawater and freshly cut grass.
As I push open the store door, a familiar voice calls out, “Good morning!”
I glance up to see Jenny, radiant as ever, standing behind the counter. She waves, her smile bright and easy, and I feel a warmth that has nothing to do with the morning sun. She’s wearing jean shorts and a flowy white top, her hair pulled up in a slightly messy bun with loose strands framing her face. The urge to reach out and tuck those strands behind her ears is almost irresistible. Last night while we were dancing, there was a palpable physical connection, but I don’t want to scare her away by coming on too strong. So I resist the desire to touch her hair.
“Good morning,” I reply, my voice lighter than usual as I walk to the counter. “You’re in earlier than expected.”
“Mm-hmm,” she says, before continuing a song she was humming, her eyes twinkling. “I woke up at three this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. I had an idea for a painting and had to get started. I made a lot of progress and figured I should freshen up before meeting with your mom and Gwen. It wouldn’t do for the future bride to be covered in paint.”
She beams up at me, the image of her covered in paint making me smile. I imagine her in her element, focused and glowing, and my stomach flips at the thought. If she’s this captivating talking to customers and selling bait, I can only imagine how radiant she must be when she’s painting.
“I got up a little early myself,” I say, leaning casually on the counter.
“Really?” Jenny asks.
“Yes, I want to get a few things done at the marina before my mom and Gwen get here. That way, I can make sure to have some extra time for the wedding planning.”
“Oh, good!” Jenny says, her tone a mix of relief and excitement. “I don’t know the first thing about weddings and didn’t really grow up dreaming about my perfect wedding.” She raises her hand as more words spill out. “Not that this has to be my dream wedding or anything, not that I’d even know what that was . . . What I mean is . . .”
Smiling, I step closer and gently take her hand. “Jenny, it’s okay. Even if this marriage isn’t forever, you can still have the wedding you want. Start thinking about what’s important to you, because, trust me, my mom is going to go all out—me being her only kid and all.”
“Oh no,” she says, her voice dropping with worry. “Won’t it break her heart when we get divorced?”
“We’ll worry about that later,” I say, releasing her hand as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “And, Jenny, trust me. You’re doing my mom and me both a favor. I don’t know if I’d have ever gotten married otherwise. The marina has been my sole focus for years—there hasn’t been much time for dating, let alone finding a wife. My mom always said the marina was like my family. And I guess now it actually gets to be, with you here and all.”
She pauses, considering my words, before nodding slowly. “I guess that’s kind of true, huh? Especially with us both living at the marina.”
As she turns to input something into the computer, I feel a nervous energy rise in me.
“So . . . I was thinking,” I start, then clear my throat. “You know how you’ll be moving in with me when we’re married?”
“Yes,” Jenny says.
“Well, I was thinking about my house and how soon it will be our house. And I wanted to let you know that I want it to feel like your home too. You’re welcome to do anything you want to it.”
Jenny spins around, her eyes wide with surprise. “Thanks, Trent, that means a lot.”
“Of course,” I say. “So whenever you want to come by and look at it, let me know. You can start planning what you want to add or change before you officially move in. I’m open to about anything. Changing the living area, kitchen, the bedroom.” My cheeks burn, and I know they must be red. “I mean bedrooms,” I add quickly. “I’m not assuming we’ll share a room or anything like that.”
I rub the back of my neck, struggling to explain myself. Why is this so hard? “What I’m trying to say is, there’s the room I stay in, obviously, but I have two extra rooms. You can pick from either one and make it your own. And I’ve thought about your painting too. I want you to keep the cabin you’re in now as an art studio. If you’d like.”
By now, my face is on fire, so I shut up and stick my hands in my back pockets, slowly backing away. Her expression softens, and unshed tears shimmer in her eyes.
“Wait,” she says softly, stopping me before I can retreat. “You don’t have to go. And thank you—that’s such a sweet offer. I’ve always dreamed of having my own art studio, somewhere I can just create without having to clean up every time. I appreciate it.”
“I want you to feel happy here, Jenny.”
She smiles at me. “I think I will be.”
“Want to drop by my house tonight? After the marina closes?”
“That sounds great,” she says.
I grin at her. “Well, now that that’s settled, I need to get going on work at the marina before Mom and Gwen get here. Bye.”
I hightail it out of there as calmly as I can, feeling like my face might still be on fire. Once I’m outside, I round the corner and lean against the wall of the building, letting out a long breath. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve acquired a fiancée, and now we’re making plans for when she will move in with me. What more can this day bring?