CHAPTER FORTY-THREE Ginger
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Ginger
I t feels as though it’s just my luck that the universe would send me the man of my dreams when I was a teenager, only for me to marry him as an adult by accident and start to fall in love with him.
Would it also be my luck that both of us are so stubborn that we haven’t properly talked about any of this, and what it will all mean by the end of the summer? Yes .
And would that same universe also plant his ex-wife in the very salon I’m getting my hair done at for my best friend’s wedding? Of course.
“I didn’t even know she worked here until two days ago,” CeCe hisses to me. “Apparently, she just started in June. She was supposed to be off today, but they had two people call in sick. She isn’t working on any of us. Don’t worry.”
All of us girls are sitting in a row at the upscale Elegance Salon in Laurel Creek’s bustling downtown. I watch Gemma over my shoulder as my hair gets tamed into manageable curls so it can be upswept in the style CeCe wants.
Gemma is pretty, I suppose. Her blonde hair is cut shorter than the last time I saw her. It’s now styled into a smooth bob with bangs and she has wide almond-shaped blue eyes, high cheekbones and a pretty smile—when she isn’t scowling that is. I can see how Cole could have been attracted to her once upon a time. I chew my lower lip as my hair is tugged in every direction by my own stylist. CeCe sucks back half a glass of champagne beside me just as the door to the salon opens and Ivy comes in with yet another card, passing it to CeCe as Wade follows behind with a massive basket of white roses.
This isn’t the first time the bride-to-be has received a card and gift during our salon trip. Earlier, a giant vase of Hershey’s Kisses was delivered to her. The card read: “ A wise man once told me to always kiss the woman you love. In this vase is a kiss for every day since you came home. Since the day you walked back into my life and stole my heart .”
Wade told us there were 381 of them in that damn vase, and I think I’ve eaten at least ten since Gemma walked in the door.
CeCe starts to tear up before she even reads the latest note.
“Who knew Nashby had all this romance buried under that bruised heart?” Liv says from my left side as her red hair is pulled into a half-updo by her stylist.
I squint at the side of her neck, which is left exposed with the movement. Are those … teeth marks? I make a mental note to ask her who the hell has been biting her.
“ A wise man once told me to never go a week without bringing the woman you love flowers. So I give you a rose for every week since you’ve been back with me. For every week you’ve shone a bright light on the darkest parts of my soul .”
Mama Jo, who is sitting beside CeCe, swipes tears away from her eyes and gets up to hug her daughter.
“That wise man was your daddy,” she says as CeCe starts to cry again. “He never missed a week. In fact, when he knew he was in his final days, he had Smith Landscaping come in and plant a row of bushes along the fence at the big house so that, every week, and all season long, I’d have fresh roses.”
She kisses CeCe on the head, and turns to Liv and me before saying, “Nash learned from the best.”
Liv flashes Jo a teary smile and squeezes CeCe’s hand. Goddammit, even I feel the tears creeping in. We all look at each other and I shake my head. If CeCe can find her soulmate in her brother’s best friend, can I be lucky enough to find happiness with my best friend’s brother? I’m just about to tell CeCe how much I love her when the devil herself chooses this second to come in and ruin the moment. My stylist heads over to a cart for some supplies and Gemma sneaks right in between me and CeCe.
“Congrats, CeCe Rae,” she says in a sugary voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Her crooked smile is almost a sneer. “And Ginger, fancy seeing you here. I heard through the grapevine that you’re my daughter’s nanny this summer. That’s so sweet of you to do that for Cole. Don’t suppose you two are a little more than friends, huh?”
I shrug and try to keep my voice steady.
“I’m helping my friend out, yes,” I say calmly, “And I’m happy to spend time with Mabel. She’s an incredible girl. And Cole is just the best daddy.”
“Don’t you have foils to cut or hair to sweep up, Gemma?” CeCe asks with a smile. “I don’t see you acting too interested in what Cole and Mabel are doing any other time. What makes today different?”
I want to high-five her for her sass.
“There’s no need to get your panties in a twist,” Gemma says to CeCe, while pulling a lipstick out of her pocket and turning to me. “I’m just saying, Cole gets friendly with a lot of women. Of course he’d get friendly with you too, Ginger. Finally .”
Gemma angles her face toward me over her shoulder as she moves to the mirror in front of me .
“You’ve been waiting on that for a long time, haven’t you?” she says before putting on her cherry red gloss, rubbing her lips together and fluffing her hair. “I suppose it makes sense now. Especially since you’re doing exactly what he needs you to do for him. He can be very accommodating when it works to his advantage. Ask the editor at the Laurel Creek Gazette who posted all those favorable online articles about him right before the election for sheriff.”
I grit my molars and will myself not to get sucked in by this woman. Cole is not just sleeping in my bed, eating almost every meal with me, snuggling up with me on the couch every night, and giving me more orgasms than I know what to do with because I’m helping him with Mabel and his probationary period.
Is he?
I smile at Gemma in the mirror but my eyes shoot daggers into her soul. I clench my fist and feel my nails biting into my palm. Be an example for Mabel , I tell myself. Do not do anything stupid.
“I don’t know how you’d have any idea about what Cole is really like. From what I understand, he never let you know the real him. Which is too bad, because he’s great.” I smirk at her. “Guess it all worked out though. You’ve got Brent now. He’s perfect for you.”
She leans down toward me with a smile. But my work is done. She’s definitely pissed; I must have hit a little too close to home.
“You think you’re so smart, Ginger. But a word of advice, darlin’,” she hisses at me. “Cole goes where life suits him. And, right now, you suit him. You know I’m right. Stop lying to yourself.”
One of the other hairdressers calls over to us before I can bite back.
“Gemma, your three o’clock is here.”
“Coming!” she says, but her eyes stay on mine as she walks away.
“Bitch,” CeCe mutters under her breath once she’s out of earshot. “Don’t let her get to you.”
I scoff as my hairstylist returns and starts tugging again.
“As if,” I say, pouring myself some more champagne, sounding way more confident than Gemma just made me feel.
Of course, CeCe and Nash’s wedding is the most beautiful event I’ve ever been to. The décor is stunning, and the atmosphere is magical. The front of Nash’s property is usually vast and green, but tonight it is full of people. The creek behind his house sparkles as the late evening sun begins to sink and the massive tent where we’ll be eating is glowing with lights, foliage, and flameless candles. To the right there is a perfectly placed aisle complete with a white runway and scattered teal rose petals. Sixty chairs face an archway which is covered in Kentucky honeysuckle and more fairy lights twinkling in mason jars.
My breath is shallow as I move toward Cole at the end of the aisle. I breeze past Chris Bell, who is also a part of the wedding party. I haven’t seen him since Vegas, but he doesn’t fail to look me over appreciatively. He brushes my arm to get my attention.
“You look beautiful, Ginger. Dance with me later?” he asks.
“We’ll see,” I say with a shrug, attempting not to be rude but also not wanting to commit.
Cole and I have been placed behind a very pregnant Ivy and a beaming Wade. I haven’t seen Cole since eight o’clock this morning when I left to meet CeCe. His satin lilac tie matches my dress—a strapless number that is fitted at the waist before flowing downward to rest, loose and billowy, on my knees. It screams simple elegance. Which is exactly what CeCe wants. Any hope in hell I’ve ever had of not admitting I’m crazy for this man dies as I drink him in; he’s wearing a perfectly fitted three-piece suit, his hair is styled, and as he stands behind his daughter, his brow is furrowed in concentration. My ovaries go firmly into overdrive as he tightens her bun, making sure all her hairpins are in place, while telling her not to be nervous about walking down the aisle. The warmth that spreads through me tells me everything I didn’t want to admit before this very moment. I’m falling in love with my husband, deeply in love, and I have no fucking idea what to do about it.
Cole sends Mabel to the front of the line with a kiss to her forehead, and his eyes flit to mine as we come together. They rake over every single inch of me before meeting my gaze again. My cheeks heat and I feel the flush under my skin as his stare burns into me.
“What did our friend Chris want?” he whispers, attempting to sound casual.
I keep my eyes forward as I quietly answer. “He wanted to tell me I looked nice and asked me for a dance later.”
“Mmmhmm,” he says, angling his head closer to mine. “He won’t have the chance. We’ll be leaving as soon as we can, because the fucking things I want to do to you right now …”
His words are a whisper in my ear, and instantly turn my skin to gooseflesh.
“Uh-huh,” I whisper through my smile as I wave at a teacher from school in the crowd. I lock arms with Cole and we begin our journey. A fleeting moment of regret passes through me with the knowledge that I’ve already gotten married. And that I can’t undo the fact that the first time I said wedding vows to someone, it wasn’t real. I promise myself in this moment, arm-in-arm with Cole, that the next time I walk down an aisle like this with my husband, it will be the real thing.
Three hours later, and Nash and CeCe are officially married; dinner is done, dessert has come and gone, and the speeches are almost over. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a dry eye in the place. There’s a short break in the conversation as Chris Bell does his best to chat me up from the other side of our table. He sits directly across from Cole, while I’m next to Cory and Anna Kane on one side, and Avery Pope and her boyfriend Jacob Riley, Olympic bronze medalist for snowboarding, on the other.
Avery is only here for the weekend but it’s so good to see her. She became an addition to our girl crew last summer when she worked for Nash as his figure skating instructor until she was called away midway through August to work with the US Olympic Team. She’s been in Louisville on and off ever since, which is where she met Jacob.
Chris isn’t shy about the way he tries to flirt with me and, every time he does, Avery’s eyes catch mine in question. Cole is obviously less than happy about the situation, and makes this clear through his jaw-flexing jealous tell.
I answer Chris’s question about how my summer is going, telling him about working with Mabel and everything we’ve achieved in the garden. Then I turn to Avery and we talk about everything she’s been up to during the past year.
We’re only interrupted when CeCe’s “aunt,” Jo’s friend from school, decides that, after three glasses of wine, she wants to say a word to the bride. Cole leans back in his chair beside me in our dark little corner of the wedding party table and we listen to Aunt Daisy drunkenly ramble on as CeCe flashes her best fake smile at her. Jo sits with Wyatt’s sister on the other side of the tent and I can see the grimace she’s giving her longtime friend from here. Mabel is sleeping inside the house while Nash’s extended family’s kids play video games and eat snacks in the next room. Everyone in the tent is clearly itching for this woman to stop talking so we can get to drinking and dancing.
“Who is this woman?” I ask Cole in a whisper. “I’ve never met her before.”
“I don’t even think I’ve met her before,” Cole jokes quietly as he sips his whiskey.
He places his hand on my thigh as he speaks, and just this simple touch ignites me. And, even though they’re blowing air conditioning into this tent, I’m suddenly very warm as he slides his hand up under my dress and rests it between my thighs.
“At least she’s stopped Chris from doing his best to get you to sleep with him for the time being,” Cole says under his breath.
I nudge him with my elbow. Aunt Daisy finally stops talking and everyone claps. Cole removes his hand from my thigh to join in.
“So, Ginger, did I tell you what I’m doing for Harvest Fest? Will I see you there? I was so glad when Nash and CeCe asked me to help out …” Chris starts talking to me again but I can’t focus on his words as Cole’s hand lands back on my thigh.
My heart pounds in my ears as Cole’s grip creeps slowly higher. I should want to shoo him away, but I don’t. He’s doing this on purpose and I’m sure he’s getting off on the fact that Chris is trying to keep my attention, even though he’s the one commanding it. As if there is ever any competition.
My mind wanders back to the first night Cole and I spent together as his fingers trace the sensitive spot just under my hip bone. The memory resurfaces in flashes: how we barely made it into the hotel room before he was pressing me up against the wall; how the texture of the wallpaper felt against my skin …
“And in New York we helped out with the Fourth of July celebrations at St Jude’s. That was my favorite. The kids were adorable and the way their faces lit up when …” Chris rambles on while I nod politely.
Cole’s hand meets the apex of my thighs. The tablecloth reaches right down to the floor and the flickering candle is our only light. My back is to the tent wall, which means Cole can touch me without anyone seeing a thing.
Jacob grabs Chris’s attention momentarily and Cole uses the moment to lean down and whisper in my ear. “Should I make my wife come while she plays nice with the guests?”
His hand slides higher. I start to shake my head, but my body has other ideas because I open my legs wider. Cole’s lips turn up in a smirk and practically graze my ear as he pushes my thong aside. It’s loud in here but his voice is level and clear.
“Don’t fight it. Open right up for me,” he groans as his fingers skim over me. “You’re fucking soaked, Vixen.”
I stifle a moan, but do as he says.
His middle finger finds my clit and he starts to strum in tight circles using the perfect amount of pressure. Just the thought of us doing this here adds a certain buzz to the already charged atmosphere. I drown Chris’s voice out as he tells me about a teenager he helped mentor. His words and face fade away, replaced instead by the image of Cole driving into me the night we got married, both hands tucked behind his head, his eyes holding mine.
I fist the tablecloth as Cole continues his rhythm, fucking into me with two fingers in a slow steady roll, his broad palm adding delicious pressure to my clit. It takes everything in my power not to cry out when my orgasm begins to build within me.
“Nash and CeCe say you offer free tutoring throughout the year for any kids that are behind. That’s so sweet of you,” Chris says, bringing my attention back to the here and now, right at the same time that I come over Cole’s hand.
“Yes!” I cry out. “Yes, I love it.”
Chris laughs at my outburst, shaking his head at me.
“Helping others really excites her,” Cole says as he pulls his hand away and squeezes my thigh one last time. I offer Chris a sweet breathless smile as I tug my dress down under the table. I see my phone light up as I start to regain my composure.
AVERY
You have a lot of explaining to do at girls’ night tomorrow.
I look up at her; her arms are folded across her chest, and she wears a smug look on her face. I shrug before I look back up at Cole, ready to shoot daggers into his soul for making me come apart like that in the middle of Nash and CeCe’s wedding reception. He knows I’m about to read him the riot act.
He bends down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t look at me like that. You wanted it. This pussy is mine .”
A chill runs down my spine, and I can’t figure out if it’s a wish or a memory that suddenly comes crashing down around me. A hazy vision of Cole on the night we got married, long before we crossed any lines sober, fills my mind. His molten eyes bore into mine and I swear I hear him whisper, “You’re mine Ginger. You’ve always been mine.”