Judged #2
We made the rounds like that, his hand warm at the small of my back. People hugged me and cried on me and welcomed me, and Jake kissed my cheek when the crowd demanded a kiss—three times, his beard scratchy-soft against my skin.
Nanette materialized at my elbow during a lull, licking cinnamon sugar off her rim. “Okay, question.” She kept her voice down. “I’ve been watching all night. Cheek, cheek, cheek. Why is the man kissing you like you’re his grandmother?”
“We’re taking it slow. At my request.”
“Well, there’s slow, honey—” she gestured at the fire in the ring, at the night around us, at the man on the other side of me, “—and then there’s you two. Entire mountain ranges formed over a bajillion years and that was faster than this relationship. You’re marrying him tomorrow.”
“I’m aware of the schedule.”
“If you say so.”
“And what’s going on with you and Cash?”
“Nothing,” she innocently skulked off.
The evening ended, with Jake saying thanks to everyone on our behalf in a toast. Then he strolled me over to Ash’s old cabin. Stetson had long-fallen asleep on his shoulder. Nanette and Cash trailed twenty or so tactful feet behind us, talking about the stars above on this clear night.
We got the baby down in the crib Ash and Colt had carried in that week. Nanette said goodnight to Cash and came inside.
Jake stood on the porch before he left and held my hands. “I’d say that went really well.” He shifted his weight. “You know, there’s a moment tomorrow, in front of everybody, where the sheriff’s going to say the thing, and then I’m going to kiss you.”
I chuckled breathlessly. “So I’ve heard.”
“We could practice right now, if you want.” His voice dropped into a register that weakened my knees.
Oh, I wanted to. Standing there with his eyes on my mouth, I wanted so badly my hands curled at my sides, itching to grab his shirt and bring him to me.
“Jake.” I made myself say it. “I really want to wait.”
He nodded with a long sigh, listening.
“It’s not that I don’t want you.” My face heated, saying it out loud.
“Believe me, I do. But I’ve been thinking about firsts.
We’ve watched many of Stetson’s together, and every one of them mattered because they only happen once.
First saying dada. First stand up. First steps, right past me into your arms.” I took a breath.
“With other guys, in the past, I jumped in too fast—” His jaw clicked at that.
“—Everything all at once, and none of it ended up meaning anything. With you I want to do it right. I want our first kiss to be the first. Tomorrow. Married. I want every first with you to be special, because, after giving this some serious thought, I only plan on doing this once, too.”
For a long moment, Jake didn’t say anything. Then he took my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, right above his grandmother’s ring, his eyes smoldering at me and entirely unfair.
“Then I can’t wait to kiss my wife tomorrow, for the very first time, in front of everyone.”
He meant it sweetly. It landed like a lit match.
“Goodnight, Autumn Michelle Triggs. Last night with that name.”
He tipped his hat, stepped off the porch, and disappeared into the dark, whistling something that sounded suspiciously happy.
I floated inside on the memory of his mouth on my knuckles, closed the door, leaned against it, and stuck on the words, In front of everyone.
The floating stopped short. Our first kiss ever, with an audience. What was I thinking?
“Everything okay?” Nanette said from the couch. “Sit down, bride.”
She patted the floor in front of the couch between her legs. I sat like the old days when we were sixteen. She took the elastic off the end of my braid, and started brushing out my hair in long, slow strokes down my back, the way she’d done countless times.
She’d brushed my hair in her dad’s back office at the Roadhouse because I hurt everywhere Brantley had hit me and was shaking too hard. And then she pressed all the cash from her Dad’s register into my hand. I drove to Montana that night.
Stetson stirred on the baby monitor and breathed his little sleep-breaths from the next room. The brush whispered through my hair, and my shoulders came down from around my ears an inch at a time.
“So, big day,” she said quietly.
“Big day.”
A few strokes passed. Because she was Nanette, the only person alive who I could ask, I finally inquired. “You haven’t seen or heard from Brantley?“
The brushing stopped. “Not one word.”
“Strange. His own parents filed the custody suit without him.”
The brush paused. “Autumn. You’re not still in love with him?”
“What?” I twisted around to glare at her.
“No. Not at all. I don’t think I ever truly was.
I was in love with the idea that somebody like him could pick somebody like me.
That’s not the same thing.” I faced forward again and let her brush.
“What irks me is what kind of man leaves his child behind like that? Doesn’t fight, doesn’t call, doesn’t even sign his own name to the lawsuit.
Like he doesn’t care at all for his own son? ”
The brush kept moving, steady.
“The same kind your daddy was,” she responded. “He did that exact thing to you and Trig, didn’t he? Walked off and left your mom with two babies and never once looked back.”
I closed my eyes. Fifteen years of friendship earned her the right to speak the truth.
“So you already know that kind of man exists. You’ve known it your whole life, Autumn.
” Her hands gathered my hair back into a low ponytail, and she leaned her arms over my shoulder in a hug.
“But hear me, because I have now conducted a full investigation, talked to all the people here tonight, and I am prepared to render my verdict. Jake—the man you marry tomorrow—is not that kind of man.”
I reached up and gripped her forearm trying not to cry.
“Do you think that could be what’s really holding you back from kissing Jake’s luscious lips? Because I’m this close to doing it myself if you don’t.”
She cackled and I slapped her arm playfully.
“Seriously, though. He is not the kind who leaves. That man stopped traffic today for somebody else’s grandmother to cross the road.
Your son calls him dada because even he knows.
” Her voice went thick. “Jake’s not your daddy, and he’s not Brantley.
I believe he will mean every vow he makes tomorrow.
And I’ll be standing right beside you, watching you finally—finally—get the family you’ve always wanted. ”
We remained like that for a while watching the fire die down. I owed Nanette so much. We’d seen each other through it all.
“Thank you for everything,” I whispered.
“Of course. Love you like a sister, honey. Now, where’s the chocolate?”
“I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me first about Cash. He’s not as sexy as Jake, but…”
“That’s debatable.”
Later, with Nanette’s snores keeping me awake, I lay in the dark tracing my finger over Jake’s ring. I thought about what would come after tomorrow’s first kiss. I fell asleep smiling, which had to count as its own kind of first.