Chapter 6
CHLOE
My sister is getting married today, and I am attending as nothing more than a guest. When Rachel told me she was getting married, we agreed that I would come to show my support and love, but that I would not be involved in any of the peripheral events.
I’ve worked hard to try to heal the damage our parents did to us growing up.
But if Rachel wants them there—or even in her life for that matter—I’m not going to skip out of showing up and supporting her.
Even if our relationship has been strained since I turned my back on our parents seven years ago.
Am I sad about it? Of course; she’s my sister.
But I know that if I ever needed her, she’d be there for me, just like I would with her.
Unfortunately, even with skipping all the other events, the wedding still means a full day of fielding questions from my parents about my life, from my relationship status to my now non-existent job.
And although I am mostly healed, I still carry the weight of their expectations.
Years of being told I’m not good enough or snide remarks being made when I celebrated my achievements can do that to a girl.
I still remember the disappointment neither of my parents bothered to hide when I told them I wanted to be a photographer, or that I’d won a prestigious internship with a fashion magazine. Nothing was ever good enough for them.
I’ve only had a fleeting moment with my mom in the reception of the main house when I checked in.
She looked as put together as always, if not a little older, as she moved through the lobby in a flustered panic about something I couldn’t figure out, barely stopping as she waltzed her way through.
Of course, my father was nowhere to be seen.
I’m grateful that I’ve managed to escape their attention so far.
Rachel has always been my parents’ favorite, and for the most part, I was okay with that because it minimized their expectations of me.
But even now, after not seeing each other for years, I was treated as nothing more than a guest, greeted with a courteous hello before my mom rushed off to do God knows what.
It stung for a second, but after replaying the moment over and over on the way to my cabin, I realized that was exactly what I want.
I’d rather the cold indifference than my mom trying to dig into my failures.
My phone buzzes on the bed, and I swipe it up, waking the screen with a touch.
Maya
Good luck today. Don’t let your parents get to you.
Chloe
Easier said than done, but I’m hoping they’ll be too busy to notice me.
Dropping my phone to the mattress, I ignore the weight that settles on my chest, instead twisting and turning as I check my reflection in the mirror.
Admiring the emerald-green dress that brings out the green in my eyes is much easier than working through the guilt I feel at having cut myself off from my family.
Even if it was something that needed to happen.
The dress—a designer one I managed to find in a thrift store back in Seattle—is full length and flowy, with chiffon wrapping around my neck in a halter style.
I had to have it taken up, given my less than model-like height.
Still, I feel confident in it, especially with the thigh-high slit on one side that gives a peek of my toned leg with every step.
I’ve kept my makeup soft and minimal, opting to do it myself rather than use the artist my sister hired, because that would have meant putting myself in a room with my mom and I’m all about avoiding doing that today.
My hair is up in a French twist to keep it off my face and neck in the hot weather.
Lifting the bottom of the dress, I grab my shoes and head for the bed, which takes up pride of place in the bedroom.
I buckle up the intricate straps on the gold open-toe shoes before lifting my feet out in front of me and admiring how pretty they look.
My feet are going to kill me by the end of the day, but at least they’ll look cute.
Standing, I take one last look around the bedroom, as if I might have forgotten something. Like my plus-one. There’s nothing and nobody there. Even though it wasn’t my plan, I have the luxury cabin to myself.
When there’s a knock at the door, I grab my gold clutch and head for the stairs.
I take each step with caution, knowing that breaking my neck on my sister’s wedding day is a big no-no.
Besides, my ride can wait the minute or so it takes me to get to the door.
Rachel has arranged for everyone to be picked up on buggies, which will take us down to the lake where the ceremony will take place.
Hartlands’ Ranch is beautiful and the perfect venue for a destination wedding.
Where Kade’s ranch was clearly a working one, this place is the complete opposite.
The main house is a large, three-story gray-brick building with a dark wooden wraparound porch.
It holds center stage to at least six cabins—mine included—that are far enough away to give the lodgers a sense of isolation.
Beyond the buildings sits a large lake with a canopy in the open field beside it for events like today.
Of course, I spent my free day yesterday out exploring the ranch and taking pictures.
I just know that the ceremony will be beautiful; with a view like this, how could it not be?
There’s another knock on the door as I reach the bottom step. “Coming,” I call in reply, hoping they can hear me.
I check over my shoulder that everything’s as it should be when my hand lands on the doorknob. It’s a habit, because I’ve barely touched anything since arriving, and I’m certain that the person here to pick me up wouldn’t give a damn if there was a mess behind me.
Huffing out a laugh, I shake my head before slipping a polite smile onto my lips. I open the door, the words I was about to speak dying on my tongue when my eyes land on the tall, impeccably dressed—in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a bolo tie—cowboy in front of me.
He removes his Stetson, holding it in front of himself as he stares at me, an awestruck look on his face before it morphs into a wide grin that throws me back to the bar that first night.
We’d been chatting about nonsensical things, his attention firmly on me as he angled his body closer.
For the first time in a long time, I’d actually felt heard, as if every word tumbling from my lips mattered.
His laughter wrapped around me like a cozy blanket and in that moment, when the music and hum of the busy bar faded, I wondered if this was one of those pivotal moments you look back on in life and say, “That’s when it happened.
” What the “it” is, I don’t know, and I don’t need to. At least not right now.
“Kade,” I murmur, confusion and lust warring for first place in my tone. My chest heaves, and a longing that is both unexpected and startling rushes through me. “What are you doing here?”
“I know you said I didn’t have to come, but I couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling that maybe you’d need someone in your corner today,” he explains, uncertainty filling his gaze.
Relief is the first emotion that floods through my body, quickly followed by something I can’t quite name. It’s a pity date, nothing more. He felt sorry for the woman that was desperate enough to ask a man she doesn’t know to her sister’s wedding.
What’s worse is that Kade doesn’t have a clue about my ex, Paul, who I was supposed to be coming with. He doesn’t know just how damaged my relationship with my parents is either. Urgh.
Kade’s features soften along with his body. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want company. I’m sorry. I can go.”
When he turns to leave, I reach out, placing my hand on his forearm.
I can feel his warmth through the layers, and for the first time all morning, I feel at ease.
That simple touch has calmed the storm that I’ve been trying to ignore for hours.
It makes it so much easier to say, “No, please, come in.”
I step back, my hand lingering on his arm for far too long.
He looks down at it before meeting my eye and crossing the threshold, forcing my hand to fall away.
I suck in a breath before subtly blowing it out. How can he relax me at the same time as setting me so on edge? I shake my head, silently reminding myself that I’m not in town long enough for me to try and figure that out.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, in desperate need of one myself.
I don’t wait for him to answer before I’m crossing the room to the kitchen. As I busy myself with making us a drink, I try to pretend like I’m not acutely aware of Kade.
“You look really beautiful, Chloe.”
The compliment sends a thrill through my body, and I dart a glance over my shoulder at him.
“Thank you.” I’m captured by the look in his eyes, a heated tension swirling between us like the beginnings of a tornado.
“You look…” My words trail off, unsure of what to call him.
Beautiful doesn’t sound right, but that’s how he looks.
“Like I’ll be sweating through my suit before the ceremony is over?”
“Something like that,” I murmur, closing the distance between us to hand him a glass of cheap whiskey I got at the gas station on my way into town because I knew I’d need it to help me get through today.
He runs his hands down the lapels of his jacket. “Well, now that I’ve seen what you’re wearing, I’ll be keeping the jacket on. Besides, the Montana summer heat isn’t a match for me.”
“We’ll see about that, handsome,” I tease.
A knock sounds at the door. I don’t want to go out there, not just because I want to get to know Kade but because today is going to be tough, and I’m not sure I’m mentally or physically ready for that.
A warm hand grips my arm, the calloused skin a reminder of his work. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply before finding him. “I guess we’ve got to go.”
He nods, squeezing my arm before he releases me, and I throw back my drink. The amber liquid burns as it travels down my throat, settling in my gut with a warmth that pales in comparison to the one Kade leaves behind every time he’s near.
I walk to the door, the comfort of Kade’s presence wrapping around me with every step.
It’s funny how I’ve known him for a couple of days, spent no more than several hours in his company, and yet he can calm me like I’ve known him my entire life.
I should be cautious about the way he makes me feel, but the part of me that craves stability sinks into everything he’s offering.
Here goes nothing.