Chapter 3
NOLAN
3
Ican barely get my hands to stop shaking as I help Inez with her suitcase. I force myself to pry my eyes off her just long enough to haul the bag into the trunk of my car.
I’m afraid that she’s nothing but a figment of my imagination. That I’m just dreaming.Inez is really here? Here in Starlight Falls?
She’s struggling with the car door and I hustle around to the passenger side to get it open for her. Because you kind of have to jimmy and wiggle the old handle to get it to open up right.
“Thank you.” Her almond-shaped crystal blue eyes flick up to mine and I almost trip over my feet. So damn pretty, this girl.
When I pulled up a few minutes ago and saw her wearing that dress—that wedding dress—something punched me straight in the gut. A part of me expected to find a big shiny rock on her finger to match. But the ring wasn’t there…
There’s no diamond ring on her finger. No love-stricken groom by her side. No TV cameras chasing her away from the train station.
And I don’t know what to make of any of this.
Inez tries to climb inside the car. But her dress is so big and so poofy, it takes all four of our hands to stuff and fold and push the many layers of material into the front seat.
Even after all that, the battle against that wedding dress isn’t over just yet. Next, I struggle to strap her in with the seatbelt. I’m barely able to get the door closed. It takes two firm swings of the door to get the thing latched properly.
Then finally, my passenger is tucked inside.
Holy hell—how’s she been getting by all day in this getup? Just two minutes of dealing with this dress, and I’m already exhausted.
Wiping sweat from my brow, I jog around to the driver’s side and collapse behind the wheel in a breathless huff. I start up the car.
Inez glances across the console, briefly making eye contact. “Thank you. I…I’m not sure I said ‘thank you’ yet.” She smiles at me again.
“You did,” I assure her.
“Well, thanks so much.” And she smiles some more.
At this point, it’s clear that she’s only smiling to hide the pain. Or the embarrassment. Or both.
Before I can get a word in, she promptly gets the conversation going. “So…how are things at the bar? You must have been pretty busy over there tonight. Weekend rush and all.” She rambles merrily.
“Yeah, it was pretty busy.”
She flinches. “Sorry to take you away in the middle of the rush. Did you have anyone to cover for you? The new employees have everything under control?”
“I have a six-person staff working tonight. Plus, my siblings are all there right now.” Either they’ll figure it out while I’m gone or the place will be a heap of ash when I return. One or the other. Right now, the bar is the least of my concerns.
“Let me guess—you left Ronan in charge? I’d bet he’s enjoying bossing everyone around while you’re out.” She forces a laugh.
So this is what we’re doing right now? Making small talk? Really? Are we gonna discuss the weather next?
I grunt. “Sure.”
Inez seems to interpret my curt response as annoyance. “Well, sheesh…” She falls silent, her laughter dying on her heart-shaped lips.
I am annoyed. But not for the reason she thinks. Not because I had to rush out in the middle of my shift to come rescue her.
This woman leaves town for months and then shows up in a dirty wedding dress in the middle of the night, trying to act like it’s business as usual? Damn right, I’m annoyed.
A million and one questions are swarming around in my head. What happened to bring her here tonight? Is she back for good? Does this mean that the wedding is off? What exactly is going on?
But I don’t even know where to start. Instead, a heavy, awkward silence settles in the car as Inez wiggles around in her seat, struggling to get comfortable.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to mind my business, to act indifferent, to keep from overstepping any lines. Except I’m not indifferent at all. I want to know everything. My curiosity is killing me slowly.
Stopped at a red light, the silence grows louder, to the point that it pains my ears. When I can’t take it anymore, I glance her way. “So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”
Inez squirms under my stare, pretty eyes flitting down to her wedding dress. It’s billowed up around her, like it’s trying to swallow her whole. “Oh, you know…cold feet, I guess.” She toys with the beading and sparkles on her dress.
Wait—did she just…? She just confirmed that she didn’t marry that TV douchebag…Right?
I won’t lie—I’m relieved to hear that. Maybe she was able to see through his phony persona after all. I’m so glad she saw him for who he is, and turned his ass down at the altar.
Not because I have any say in her life. Obviously. But because she deserves better than that fraudulent excuse for a man.
“Cold feet…?” I don’t buy it.
She twists her neck to examine my expression. “What…?”
“I’ve never known you to second-guess yourself.” I shrug.
She folds her arms. She pouts her lips. She shoots me a mighty stink eye. Talk about defensive body language. “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Brighton.”
I chuckle low in my chest and my words slip out drenched in sarcasm. “Come on. You said you wanted a husband, Machado. That actor dude should be perfect for the role. He’s Mr. Golden Boy. Everybody loves him.”
She spits out a laugh. “Trust me. Vance Cavendish loves himself more than all of America combined does.”
My head bobs.“I wholeheartedly agree with that assessment.”
Inez shifts toward me, material ruffling and swishing as she moves. A twinkly-eyed grin takes over her face. “So, you’ve been watching the show?”
Shit. I just showed my hand. Now it’s my turn to squirm.
Her wide grin morphs into a knowing smirk and I realize that I’ve been caught.
My ears heat up and I shake my head, trying to downplay it. “The bar has been watching the show. Over and over again…And again…And some more.” I glance across at her in the poorly-lit car. “The town was really rooting for you.”
Her gaze falls downward. She winces. “I let everyone down, didn’t I?” She looks disappointed in herself.
I’m not having it. “This is your life we’re talking about. Who gives a fuck what everyone thinks?” I grind out. Maybe a little too harshly.
But she shouldn’t feel like she owes anything to anybody.
I take a cleansing breath. “All that matters is…are you okay?”
She hesitates, her eyes not meeting mine. “I’m okay…”
I don’t like the way that she says it. It’s not freaking convincing.
I look at her again. More closely this time. That’s when I see the faint black mascara streaks tracing her cheeks.
A maddening thought grips my gut like a fist. Before I can stop myself, my hand darts across the console to cup her jaw, angling her face toward me. “Did he hurt you?! Did he put his hands on you?!” I demand, an edge of hysteria in my voice as my thumb brushes over her smeared makeup.
At the shock of my touch, Inez trembles.
Then she jerks her chin back and starts laughing. “What? No. Vance? Hurt me? As if he’d ever risk chipping a fingernail.” She quickly grows somber. “If anybody got hurt tonight, it’s him. And I feel awful about that.”
I don’t want to be the type of guy who bad mouths another one, only to end up looking like a fool in the end. At the same time, I don’t know where things with Vance and Inez stand. And that is driving me crazy.
My indifferent facade finally crumbles completely and I lose my cool. Fuck it. “Inez, tell me what happ—”
Abruptly, she cuts me off with a palm lifted in my face. “Look—I—I’m not ready to talk about it,” she spits out. Then her voice softens. “I know that everyone will have questions but I just need tonight to get myself together, before I have to face the whole town.”
There’s so much more I want to say. But I’ve always been careful to keep distance between us. Boss-employee dynamic, after all. And in a moment like this, when she’s so obviously vulnerable, it would be easy to cross the line.
“Fine,” I mutter.
She offers me a thankful smile then looks away, idly toying with the string of her bright yellow hoodie.
The light turns green and I toe the gas pedal. But the whole time, I’m driving slow. Because I fucking missed her. I want to draw this moment out as long as she’ll let me.
The flowery sweetness of her familiar perfume is faint after what must have been a hellish day. Yet still, it draws me in. I want to lean closer to get a better smell of her. Jeez. When did I become a creep? Never knew I had it in me.
In my defense, I guess I’m still trying to process this turn of events.
I still can’t fucking believe she’s here.
She clearly needs someone she can trust tonight. And she chose me. Holy shit. She chose me.
Why was I on the other end of her phone call for help? I’m trying hard not to read more into that gesture than I should. But it’s awfully tempting.
When I realize I don’t know where I’m driving to, I break the silence. “So, where am I dropping you off?”
Inez flinches slightly.
My eyes widen. “Oh. Uh…M-my place?”
She clasps her palms together in prayer, pleading in my direction. “Please. I didn’t have time to make other arrangements. I just need a couch to crash on. It’s just for one night. Pinky promise.”
It’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t have anywhere else to go. That guts me.
I emit a long sigh. “Fine.”
Truthfully, offering this woman room and board for the night is definitely no burden. I’d never leave her out on the street.
“Thank you,” she whispers again. And I feel like an asshole when I see the genuine gratitude brimming in her eyes, ready to spill down her cheeks.
Sometimes it’s easy for me to take for granted that I have a huge family, with a whole slew of siblings who would help me out of a jam. As for my parents, even though they’ve been exploring Europe with my grandparents for the past few months, enjoying their retirement, they still make sure to check in with Stella and me every week. But Inez doesn’t have that. Not even close.
“Don’t cry,” I grumble roughly. I grip the steering wheel tighter so I don’t touch her again. Because how am I supposed to sit here and keep my hands to myself when she’s over there with tears in her eyes?
My gut instinct is to pull over on the side of the road and wrap her up in my arms. But that would come across all wrong, wouldn’t it?
Inez rolls her eyes, blotting at her lower lashes with the hem of her dress. “Hold on. Give me a second. Let me just turn off the ‘crying switch’.”
I cringe. Yup. I’m an asshole. “Sorry.”
We cruise the rest of the way through Starlight Falls, with only the clunky sounds of my old car filling the night.
I glance over at Inez and I find her staring out the window, her cheek pressed against the glass. Physically, she looks great. A little tired. A little over-dressed for the occasion. Gorgeous nonetheless.Still, I can tell that, on the inside, she’s not okay. But I decide that I won’t push it.
She could have been riding off in a shiny wedding limousine with the wrong man tonight. Instead, she’s riding shot gun in this rusty, shitty car with me. And despite the complications, this just feels right.
I’ll keep her safe.
Eventually, we make it to my place and I pull into my driveway. Which is basically just a bare patch of my big front yard covered in bits of gravel I threw down eons ago. I rush around the hood of the car to help her extricate herself from the passenger seat. Then, I grab her suitcase from the trunk.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Genevieve’s door swing open and I can feel her watching us from her camper across the yard. It’s dark out so I can’t make her out clearly but I can just imagine her drawn-on eyebrow popping upward as she watches my former employee follow me into my house.Wearing a freaking wedding dress.
Oh, boy. The local rumor mill will be churning before sunrise.
Usually, I do everything in my power to keep my name out of Starlight Falls gossip. But after everything that’s happened, I don’t want to let Inez out of my sight tonight.
Fuck it. She’s worth the hassle.
I give Gen a little wave and lead Inez up the front porch. Shrugging off the weight of my apprehension, I unlock my front door and we head inside.
I flick on the switch and warm light washes over the scuffed wooden panels and the faded floral wallpaper of my outdated entryway.
I turn to Inez. “Are you hungry? I’m sure I could heat up some leftovers.”
“I’m good, but thank you.” She offers a little nod. “I’m just exhausted.”
I give her another once-over, taking her in in all that silk and lace. For a long moment, I stand there, just enraptured by how clearly Inez Machado makes the perfect bride. I’m glad that she didn’t marry that douche. Yet at the same time, I hate that she didn’t get her day as a princess. I hate it so much.
“What?” she asks, clearly feeling self-conscious at all my gawking.
You’re pretty as fuck. That’s what.
I quickly shake my head. “Nothing. Let’s get you set up with somewhere to sleep.”
My eyes swing to the living room, off to the left. The stiff plastic-covered reddish-yellowish-brownish loveseat with its strategically-placed velvet pin-tuck cushions isn’t exactly sleep-friendly.
I pause, scratching at my bearded jaw. “How about the couch in my office? It’s not much better, but it’d offer more privacy than being out here.”
Really, I’d prefer to offer her my own bed. But I don’t want to make things even weirder here.
“That sounds perfect,” she says extra agreeably. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
She’s overcompensating, trying too hard to act like everything’s a-okay. Who am I to judge her? My nonchalant facade isn’t exactly honest, either. We’re both implicitly lying our asses off about how remarkably awkward this whole situation is.
I walk her down the narrow hallway, past the framed watercolor landscape paintings, the family photos and the decorative plates hanging on the walls.
This one story craftsman-style house was another hand-me-down from my grandparents. I haven’t updated it much in the past six years. My mother gives me so much shit for that. But I’ve been hesitant to get started on a renovation project that I know I won’t have the time to finish. So, for the time being, granny chic decor, it is.
I open the door to the office and leave Inez there with her suitcase. Then I shuffle across the hall to my bedroom to grab her a clean T-shirt. I grab a pillow and some sheets from the linen closet, too.
When I return a moment later, I find Inez standing in the middle of the room, arms twisting around awkwardly to try and reach behind her back.
She turns around and meets my stare. “Hey, do you think you could…” She motions toward the zipper that trails down the middle of her back. The one she can’t reach.
“Oh. Uh. Sure,” I mutter, dropping everything onto the couch.
I swallow roughly. Then I step forward and reach for the small white zipper. The voice in my head yells at me. Bad idea, Nolan. Bad idea.
Holding my breath, I pull downward slowly, afraid to damage her dress. Afraid to touch her skin. Afraid to take a breath. Afraid to do anything, really.
I’m overly-cautious, carefully trying to grasp only the zipper and not touch her bare flesh.
But despite my efforts to be the perfect gentleman, I find myself becoming turned on with every inch of Inez’s smooth skin that I expose.
Fuck. What is wrong with me?
She was supposed to marry another man tonight, and here I am salivating over her body. I remind myself that she’s not mine. That she never will be.
Sure, I find her attractive. But in the grand scheme of things, we’re just friends. Way too different. Not compatible. She’s practically a superstar and I’m an overwhelmed single dad.
Guys like me never end up with girls like Inez.
When the zipper hits the bottom of her spine, I abruptly let go. Inez gasps when the dress begins to slip down her torso. But just in time, her hands fly up, securely gripping the fabric over her breasts.
I hurriedly turn around. And crash face first into my damn bookcase.
She gasps again. Louder this time. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” Without looking back, I rub my banged up forehead, feeling like an idiot. “Have a good night. Let me know if you need anything,”I say in a rush and scramble toward the door.
But the sound of Inez saying my name stops me in my tracks. “Nolan?”
“Yeah?” I dare to peek over my shoulder.
Her cool-and-casual mask slips. Her delicate forehead scrunches low over earnest blue eyes. “I really do mean it—thank you for being there for me tonight.”
My heartburn returns with a vengeance when I hear the vulnerability in her tone. “No big deal,” I toss out quickly. Before my own mask slips again.
Then I take off down the hall, leaving her standing half-exposed in the middle of my home office.
What the hell have I just gotten myself into? I have a sinking feeling this won’t end well.
For me, at least.