Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Sullivan slipped into a dark blue sports coat. Looking into the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair, hoping to tame it. It was Keaton and Layne’s wedding day.
He’d never attended a wedding with such mixed emotions.
While he was very happy for his friend, thinking Layne was the yin to Keaton’s yang, it didn’t escape him that a few sparks of jealousy filled him, as well. He had tried pushing it aside, but jealousy stuck to him like shit on a shoe, an expression he’d recently picked up from Neville.
Sullivan wasn’t ready to get married. Or was he?
Back in New York, he was considered an eligible bachelor, coming into the prime of his life, with good looks and plenty of money to accompany them.
He had social status. An apartment in a prime Manhattan location.
Worked for one of the most prestigious companies on the planet.
But all that seemed to fade into the woodwork here in Driftwood Bay. What counted in this small Texas town was if you were happy and healthy. If you did something you enjoyed and had someone you loved by your side. You counted your blessings in the number of kids and good friends you had.
Living in the Bay these past few months had definitely messed with his head.
The Don’t Mess with Texas slogan had become more of a Texas Messed with Me—at least as far as Sullivan was concerned.
He struggled now, believing it was time to return to the old, familiar world he’d grown comfortable in—and wanting to stay in this new one.
With Piper—who held his heart.
He’d be certifiably insane to walk away from his position at Wagner Enterprises.
Being an architect was something he enjoyed doing.
He created something magnificent out of literally nothing.
What began in his head became a solid design on paper, one which he had a great deal of leeway, with a little input from the higher ups at Wagner.
His detailed drawings and building specifications became a physical reality, and he enjoyed the site visits he made to ensure the project lived up to his vision.
He worked closely with the contractors to make certain they had a clear path through construction and resolved any problems that cropped up.
His work was challenging, and he was well compensated for his efforts.
Yet those hours spent in Neville’s woodshop had felt incredibly good.
Talking with Nellie about what she wanted in a coffee table.
Drawing it up and receiving her approval.
Choosing the right wood and then physically making the small piece of furniture.
Just thinking about how satisfying it had been to use his hands made him itch to do it again.
Impulsively, he raced down the steps to the diner and found Neville.
“Think I might be able to use your workshop again?” Sullivan asked.
“You gonna make those end tables Nellie’s been wanting? If you don’t, she’ll bug me to do it, and my work can’t hold a candle to yours.”
He hadn’t had any ideas in mind, but he ran with it. “Yes. Nellie will get her end tables. Just don’t tell her. It may be one or two.”
“Depending upon how much time you keep in Piper Roberts’ company?” Neville asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
He shrugged, not willing to bare his soul to the old man.
“I’ll slide the key under your door,” the diner’s cook and owner said.
“Thanks, Neville.”
Sullivan left the diner, glad Nellie was engaged with a customer, and got in his car. He texted Piper he was on his way.
It was little things like that which had him thinking about how his relationship was different with her than anyone preceding her.
He’d only dated casually over the years, never interested in any woman beyond a few dates.
A courtesy text like this had never been on his radar before, yet it seemed the right thing to do.
While he’d always opened car doors for his date or held her chair at a restaurant, he did those things for Piper because he wanted to, not because it was the polite task a gentleman performed for a lady.
She waited for him on the porch, as she usually did, and pushed herself from the chair, picking up a black case beside her feet.
Her raven hair was pulled away from her face, showing off her high cheekbones.
Those blue eyes sparkled at him, full of life as they always were.
She wore what his mother called a sheath dress, sleeveless, striking her just above the knees and hugging her hips. His mouth grew dry as he got out.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, and she handed over the case. “I know it’s not a purse because you’re carrying a clutch.”
“No, it’s a makeup case. I’m going to help Layne get ready for the wedding by doing her makeup.”
Sullivan opened the car door, watching her slide in gracefully. He placed the black case on the floorboard by her feet and then returned to the driver’s seat.
“Did you get them anything?” he asked. “Keaton told me not to, but I’m thinking I should have.”
“Not yet. I plan to, but everything’s unfolded pretty quickly since I’ve come home. At least Keaton is going to let me drive one of their cars while they’re gone, so you won’t have to chauffeur me around anymore.”
“I don’t mind,” he said quickly. “We still need to go car shopping.”
“I’ll have to figure out when to squeeze it in. With the inn opening on Friday, I’m going to be really tied up.”
“Do you have anything left to get ready? Like swish toilets?” he asked, grinning.
She laughed. He loved the sound of her rich laugh. It wasn’t a weak, half-hearted sound. Instead, it was full of gusto, just like Piper herself.
“All toilets are sparkling clean. Really, everything is done. I’m just waiting for the first guests to check in.”
“Then we should go car shopping tomorrow,” he told her. “If you’re going to be tied up, tomorrow would be perfect. Think of it as the lull before the storm.”
“Why not?” she said. “Let’s talk about it after the wedding.”
By now, they had arrived at the house, and they got out of the car and headed to the porch.
“I think it’s romantic, being married on the beach,” Piper said.
“It’s outside?” he asked.
“Yes.” She looked at him, smiling wryly. “You and Dad didn’t listen to a word Mom and I said about the wedding the other night, did you?”
“Guilty as charged,” he freely admitted, looking down at his Gucci loafers.
Her eyes followed his. “Don’t worry. The bride and groom are going barefoot on the sand. I’m sure the guests will be encouraged to do the same. Your luxury loafers won’t have to suffer the sand. And you’re already halfway there, Mr. Sockless,” she teased.
They went inside, and Piper told him she would see him at the ceremony. He found Carson, who wore flip-flops.
“I see you were apprised of the appropriate footwear. I was just informed the ceremony is outside on the beach.”
Carson chuckled. “Welcome to the Bay, where casual rules the day.”
“You aren’t kidding. I’d never been to a wedding in a school gym before, much less a potluck reception in a school cafeteria,” he quipped, reminiscing about Carson and Mila’s informal wedding, where half of the Bay’s residents turned out.
Laura Perry appeared. “You boys need anything? We’ve got some Dr Peppers and iced tea in the kitchen if you’re thirsty.”
“We’re good,” he told Mila’s mom.
They talked about how Carson’s basketball season had ended and what he thought about the talent on next year’s team.
That led to more sports talk, attracting a few other men present.
While Sullivan followed a few pro teams, these Texans took their sports seriously, football most of all.
He wondered what it would be like to go to Driftwood Bay Pirates’ games on Friday nights, hitting the tailgate beforehand and then sitting with his friends, cheering on the home team.
He’d attended a few of Carson’s basketball games in the local high school gym and been amazed at the turnout, as well as how passionate fans were.
What would it be like, being a part of daily life in the Bay?
Laura came by again. “Enough sports talk, fellows. We’ll be starting in a few minutes. Everyone head outside. Bill, you stay for Layne,” she instructed her husband.
Sullivan followed everyone to the beach. He slipped off his loafers, leaving them beside the flip-flops Carson had discarded, and went to stand in the sand. The scent of the salt water wafted over him, and he closed his eyes, deeply inhaling, as the cry of seagulls swirled overhead.
Piper slipped her arm through his. “Hey, handsome. Ready for a wedding?”
They watched as Layne appeared on Bill Perry’s arm. Sullivan glanced from the bride to the groom, who looked spellbound. Dr. Perry led Layne to Keaton, and they joined hands.
It surprised him to see Piper’s dad standing before the couple. She leaned over and whispered, “Dad only performs a handful of weddings. Layne is like one of his own kids, though, so he was happy to accommodate her request.”
He thought it was decent of both Dr. Perry and Chief Roberts to step up and make this day as joyful as they could for Layne since she had lost both her parents last year.
“Piper?” the chief asked, and she released Sullivan, moving to stand close by the couple.
Sullivan realized that she was going to sing a cappella as she cleared her throat. Anticipation filled him.
Hearing the first few words, he immediately recognized the song as Elvis Presley’s I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.
Memaw had been a huge Elvis fan, and Sullivan had heard this particular song played many times during his visits to Baker’s Cove.
He closed his eyes as Piper sang, seeing Pawpaw pull Memaw to her feet and dance around the small living room, holding her close as he sang along with Elvis in her ear.
When Piper finished, Sullivan opened his eyes, blinking back tears. She rejoined him.
Leaning over, he slipped his arm about her waist and whispered in her ear. “You sang it better than Elvis ever did.”
She beamed at him, resting her head against his shoulder.
Chief Roberts oversaw the couple’s vows and pronounced them man and wife.
The small group of guests returned inside, leaving their shoes behind.
The food was delicious, and the cake from Seaside Sweets Bakery was moist and just the right amount of sweet.
Piper and Mila placed scoops of vanilla Blue Bell on the plate to accompany it.
Then the party really started.
Piper had been put in charge of the playlist. Furniture in the great room was pushed back, leaving a large space, and everyone danced with enthusiasm.
He’d never done the Cotton-Eyed Joe before and quickly caught on to the steps.
The sounds of Motown took over after that, and Sullivan let his inhibitions fly far away.
Dancing the night away with Piper was simply magical.
Then the beginning of Marry Me Before Sundown sounded, a song which had special meaning for Keaton and Layne. Everyone stepped back as the newlyweds danced to the song alone.
When the last note ended, Piper told the group, “I think it’s time to tell the newlyweds goodnight.”
Flurries of kisses and goodbyes were exchanged. Keaton handed over his car fob to Piper, telling her to take the car home with her tonight.
“We’ve already got a ride to the airport,” he told her.
Layne added, “If anything comes up with the B&B, then—”
“Don’t call us,” Keaton said, kissing his wife.
“I’ll help if a crisis arises,” Sullivan told the happy couple. “But I think Piper has everything under control.”
He caught her hand and led them back to where they’d left their shoes. Slipping on his loafers, Sullivan said, “I think dancing barefoot is an aphrodisiac.”
“I suppose that means you’d like to stay with me tonight.”
Damn. He wanted to stay with this woman every night.
“If you’ll have me,” he said instead.
Piper stopped and looped her arms around his neck. “I’ll take as much as you’re willing to give—for as long as you’re here, Sullivan.”