Chapter 26 Piper
PIPER
The ceremony was beautiful but had a generic Pinterest board vibe that makes me think social media has mostly killed originality.
White chairs were arranged in perfect rows with puffy tulle bows tied around the backs, and a string quartet played the same songs they probably performed at nine weddings out of ten.
It makes me appreciate even more what Molly is doing at her flower farm. Her bespoke events highlight each couple’s individual personality. That being said, I guess Christy’s basic-bitch aesthetic fits her to a tee.
I sat in the back row like the coward I am, gripping my small clutch purse with both hands while my childhood friend walked down the aisle in a dress that probably cost as much as my old Jeep.
She looked happy. Her groom looked happy.
Everyone looked happy. Except me. With a fake smile plastered on my face and sweat pooling in places sweat has no business being, the truth is, I felt a bit stabby through the whole thing.
And I can’t even blame hormones.
We’ve just finished dinner service, and I’m wondering how soon I can duck out of here without anyone noticing.
The setting is admittedly gorgeous. The manicured golf course stretches out below us with the Rocky Mountains rising in the distance, their rugged peaks jagged against the fading blue of the late afternoon sky.
The sun hangs low above the horizon, painting everything golden.
Round tables draped in ivory linens dot the stone patio, and tiny white lights have been strung overhead, ready to twinkle once darkness falls.
It’s the kind of scene that should make a person feel hopeful about love.
Instead, I’m quite possibly about to throw up, and not just from the morning sickness that’s decided to make an evening appearance.
I stand near the edge of the terrace, one hand resting on the wood railing, trying to look like I’m admiring the view instead of plotting my escape route. My dress, a flowing maxi with a geometric pattern that hides my barely-there bump, catches the breeze, and I smooth it down with my free hand.
“Hey, Piper, why are you hiding?”
I turn to find Morgan Finnegan approaching with two other girls from our high school graduating class. She’s wearing a designer dress, her dark hair styled in perfect waves. The softness of the look is at odds with her smile, which is sharp as a knife.
“Hi, ladies.” I force brightness into my voice. “You look great.”
“You too.” I turn the wattage of my grin up a few notches while Morgan’s eyes do a quick scan, cataloging every detail of my appearance. “I wish I had chosen my dress for comfort over style.”
Ah, yes. Nice one. So original.
“I heard you’re working as Felix Barlowe’s nanny?” she continues before I can come up with an appropriate response. “That’s quite the adventure.”
The way she says “adventure” makes it sound like I’m a bank account barnacle.
“Just helping out a friend,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
“Right. A friend.” Morgan exchanges a look with the other girls. “I’m sure you’re very helpful, especially since you quit your job at the hospital.”
“Taking a little break to figure out what I want to do next,” I answer, trying, and likely failing, not to sound defensive.
“Have you met Marie? She’s the sweetest.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I agree, and it feels like my cheeks might crack from smiling so hard.
One of the catering staff announces that the newly married couple will be starting their first dance together. Which is a blessing because I’m about to let loose on Morgan and the gang.
“I promised Christy I’d video the dance. Let’s catch up later, Pip.” Morgan’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I want to hear all about your...arrangement.”
They drift away, and I resist the urge to scream or cry or both. Instead, I turn back to the view, gripping the railing harder.
I’m fine. Completely. I don’t need these people. I have real friends now in the book club ladies, who actually care about me for real. And I have my baby. I press my other hand to my stomach, seeking the reminder that I’m not alone, no matter how it feels in this moment.
“There you are.”
The deep voice behind me is so unexpected that I actually jump, spinning around to find Felix Barlowe standing there in a dark suit that’s both too small and looks way too good on him.
Not that it’s hard when you’re built like Felix, but seeing him dressed up is something special.
The jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders, and the crisp white shirt makes his tan skin seem even more golden.
His hair is styled but still has that slightly messy quality that makes me want to run my fingers through it.
My mouth goes dry. “Felix? What are you— How did you—”
“I had a sudden urge to attend a wedding.” He steps closer, and his scent—woodsy and clean—wraps around me.
“You can’t show up at a wedding you weren’t invited to.” I glance around nervously. People are definitely looking now. Morgan and her crew have stopped mid-conversation to stare. “What will everyone think?”
His grin is all swagger. “They’ll think you have the hottest date here.”
A borderline hysterical laugh escapes my throat as heat floods my cheeks. “That’s not—”
“Breathe, Hart.” He reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles and sending sparks up my arm. “I’m here because you’re not doing this alone.”
My chest nearly cracks open at the simple statement, and suddenly my eyes are burning with tears I refuse to let fall. “How did you know?” I whisper.
“Tyler might have mentioned that your high school friends are assholes.” He says it casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Then I heard that your douchey ex would be here with his new wife. And I thought to myself, ‘No fucking way am I letting Piper have all that fun on her own.’”
A watery laugh escapes me. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.” His expression softens, and the tenderness in his eyes has my heart doing a series of backflips that would make Simone Biles proud. “Besides, it’s a well-known fact that the food at these things is usually top-notch.”
“The rubber chicken was mediocre at best.”
“Fair. The truth is, I came for the company.” He tugs on my hand. “Dance with me?”
“They’re just finishing the first dance.”
“So there’s room on the floor for us.”
“Felix—”
But he’s already pulling me toward the dance floor, which is a section of the terrace that’s been left clear next to the DJ stand near the edge of the patio.
A few other couples are swaying along with Christy and her new husband.
I try not to notice how all eyes swing to us as Felix pulls me close, one hand settling on my lower back while the other keeps hold of my hand. And my heart.
“This is ridiculous,” I whisper, acutely aware of the attention and what people must be whispering behind my back.
“It’s perfect. Let’s give them something to talk about, Hart.” He spins me once, and I can’t help but laugh again. “You’re having fun. Don’t deny it.”
“You’re insane.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “It usually precedes you throwing something at my head.”
“Only twice.”
“Both times showcased your athletic prowess.”
The song ends and transitions into another one, a slow country ballad I don’t recognize. More couples join us on the dance floor, and gradually, the attention shifts away from us.
Felix pulls me closer, and I let him, resting my cheek against his chest. I can hear his steady heartbeat and feel the warmth of him through his shirt.
“Thank you for coming,” I murmur.
“Thanks for not turning me away.” His hand splays wider on my back, and the gesture feels possessive in a way that should probably bother me but doesn’t. “How are you doing?”
My throat goes tight. “Better now.” I pull back enough to look up at him. “What really made you show up here, Felix?”
He studies my face, his own expression unreadable. “Because you matter to me, Piper. You and the baby. I know you want to prove you don’t need anybody, but—” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Needing people doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”
The tears threaten again, and I blink furiously. “Stupid hormones.”
“I’m a big fan of those hormones.” He gives me an exaggerated wink. “Especially because they make your boobs huge.”
The ridiculous statement pulls another laugh from me, which is exactly what I need as Felix guides me around the dance floor. For the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe.
We dance to two more songs before Felix suggests we get drinks. He guides me toward the bar with his hand on my lower back, and I’m hyperaware of the stares we’re getting.
“Everyone’s looking at us,” I mutter.
“We’re fucking hot.” He sounds unbothered. “Do you want sparkling water or lemonade?”
“Lemonade sounds perfect.”
He orders for both of us—lemonade for me, club soda for himself—and we move away from the crowd to a quieter corner of the terrace.
“Piper!”
I turn to find Christy approaching, her wedding dress swishing around her ankles. Her smile is bright and genuine, and for a moment, she looks like the girl I used to know in high school. And despite everything, I’m truly happy for her.
“Christy, congratulations. The ceremony was beautiful.”
“Thanks, girl.” She pulls me into a hug, and when she pulls back, her eyes go straight to Felix. “So it’s true that you’re—”
“We’re friends,” I tell her at the same time Felix says, “It’s true.”
“Felix Barlowe.” He extends his hand with a megawatt smile that’s probably gotten him out of a thousand awkward situations. “You must be the bride. Congratulations. You look lovely.”
“I—thank you—I just—” Christy giggles then clasps a hand over her mouth. “Piper only RSVPd for one, but of course, we’re so happy you’re here.” She lowers her voice like she’s sharing a secret. “We’re huge Grizzlies fans. My husband’s going to die when he meets you.”