Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
JADA
“The entire wedding industry is a scam,” I say. I’ve spent most of our drive to Nashville for Danika’s engagement party googling the origins of the event, which led to a rabbit hole of how many expenses go with a wedding.
“Obviously,” replies Ash.
“I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about weddings—like the dress and the venues and all the bullshit events around them.
Like this bridal shower or party or whatever.
The average price for a wedding is absolutely insane and she’s throwing on random bullshit.
” I put my phone down in my lap. “And my cousin wonders why she’s broke. ”
“Good thing our wedding cost basically nothing.” He switches lanes as the GPS says we have a few miles to our exit.
“I mean, yeah, but we still have to go to this stupid thing. At least she explicitly said I wasn’t invited to her bachelorette party.” I roll my eyes. “I feel like this is a reason to humiliate us, somehow. Or get revenge since we haven’t seen the PI lately.”
“You really think she’s still stuck on it?” he asks. “I mean, we’re married. You have the hotel. As far as she can tell—or at least as far as the PI could tell—we’re for real. What is there to be mad about?”
“You don’t know the depths of her grudges.” I sigh and look out the window. “Maybe after the wedding she’ll calm down.”
We make our way through downtown and finally get to the hotel where we’re staying.
It’s a little bit off Broadway, but it’s not sketchy.
Ash carries our stuff to the front desk and handles the check-in process for us while I look around the lobby.
I’m still surprised at how organized he is.
He seems to rag on himself for not “having his shit together,” then proceeds to have his shit together more than I do.
We go upstairs to the room. I figured he booked a single room because that’s what people would expect, but the bed…
“One bed?” I ask. “Still?”
“King sized. There’s some conference in town, so pickings were slim.” He puts our bags down. “I figured it’d be fine since we’re used to it already.”
“Yeah.” I still haven’t found a good replacement couch that also folds out. He hasn’t complained, though.
He glances at the phone. “I can sleep on the couch if you want space again.”
“That?” I point to this “couch,” which is a glorified loveseat. “And fold yourself in half? We’re fine at home, so we’ll be fine here.”
He just shrugs. After the night when he almost fought that asshole at the bar, he’s looked at me differently. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but more like he’s trying to understand something. Did I do something wrong by checking on him?
I had to go see him after that. My heart was racing because of the asshole but fluttering like crazy because of how he kept me safe. That wasn’t part of our plan, and it’s softening parts of me that I wasn’t supposed to bring into the vicinity of Ash Stryker.
I know he’s not the same dickhead he was in high school, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely safe, either. Even if he goes on the attack for me.
“What time do we have to be at dinner?” he asks. I have no idea how long I’ve been in my own head.
“In about forty-five minutes.” I sigh. “I should get dressed. Or more dressed.”
I might be against the whole concept of a bridal shower (or whatever this thing can be called), but I’m not going to show up to this event underdressed.
I do my makeup, adding more eyeshadow and a hot pink lipstick, and change into my going-out dress—we’ll be going straight from the restaurant to the club.
It’s tighter than what I usually wear but not so revealing that I’ll be tugging on it all night.
My shoes are just as comfortable, too, but add a few inches to my height.
Both are pink, but different textures so it’s not too matchy.
I sigh and step into the room again. Ash is stretched out on the bed on top of the covers in jeans and a shirt.
He has good taste—his shirt and jeans are nice, but he’s included a belt and some interesting rings that make his outfit more than just pants and a shirt. His eyebrows go up as he looks me over.
“Is it bad?” I ask.
“It’s extremely good.” He blows out a breath and swings his feet to the ground. “Shit, Jada.”
I suppress a smile, biting the inside of my cheek. The heat still makes its way up the back of my neck despite myself. “Thanks. Let’s go.”
We head downstairs, then take the short walk to the restaurant. Danika and her friends are in the entryway. And so is Kendra, to my relief.
“Hey, JJ.” She pulls me into a hug, pauses, then gives Ash a side hug. “Hi, Ash.”
“You’re not going to say hello to the bride?” Danika says before I even have a chance to greet her. She’s in a white sparkly dress so short that she’ll flash everyone if she even looks down.
I roll my eyes but force a smile to soften it as I give her a hug. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually liked my cousin, but ever since this stuff with the will went down, I’m even less of a fan. And I’ve never been able to hide that.
Her fiancé Scott nods in greeting and fades into the background with his friends. Danika goes right back to her conversations, like I’m not even here.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say, glancing at the main dining area of the restaurant. “Were bridal showers a thing when you got married?”
“You’re acting like I got married in the Stone Age.” Kendra snorts. “And yeah, but usually it was just a small event that my friend threw for me over brunch, no partners or spouses. Still didn’t fully get the point of them back then, either.”
“Yet you still came,” I say. “You could have had a legit excuse. You’re on call all the time.”
“I know. But this is one of the few nights when I’m not and I know you would have lost your mind if I hadn’t been here for at least part of the night.
” She checks her phone. “I’m sure as hell not going out to the club, but I’m in for some food.
And Malcolm and the twins can play video games and watch whatever nineties nostalgic movie he’s pulled from the vault until I get home. ”
“Thank you.” Yet another reason why my sister is the best.
The host finally corrals us all and takes us to the back. Two long tables split the room, one with white decorations and one with black.
“Your husband will be with the guys. Then we’ll be able to have a proper girls’ night,” Danika says, gesturing to the table with the black decor. She might as well have thrown up some air quotes when she said husband.
Her fiancé is surrounded by his boys, who all seem to be slight variations of him style-wise.
Ash couldn’t stand out more if he tried on every single level.
But he composes himself and shrugs, choosing a random seat.
I sit in the seat at the girls table directly behind him, just in case, and Kendra sits next to me.
One of my cousin’s friends takes the other side.
A waiter brings out drinks immediately, filling glasses with sparkling wine. I hear Ash introducing himself to the guys he’s sitting next to, but he doesn’t say much else. Danika isn’t the nicest, but Scott is mostly quiet. Maybe his friends won’t be that bad?
Kendra takes a dainty sip of her wine and softly sighs.
“Are you already tired?” Danika asks her from the head of the table. “We haven’t even started.”
Kendra’s eyebrow arches up and she scans the table.
She’s one of the oldest here. Not that she’s old, but Danika thought that turning thirty was like buying a rental property next to the crypt keeper.
The idea of Kennie being in her early forties must make her seem ancient, even though we aren’t too far from it.
“It’s been a long week,” Kendra says instead, giving a gentle, patient smile.
“Right. Doing doctor stuff or whatever.” Danika says it like Kendra is out there playing one on TV instead of doing literal surgery and delivering babies, sometimes simultaneously. “Anyway, let’s do a toast. To me.”
“And Scott,” her friend adds after an uncomfortably long pause.
Kendra snorts under her breath and I bite back a laugh. Typical. Danika raises her glass and shushes the men, who raise their glasses, too.
“A toast to me and Scott,” Danika says. “Our wedding is going to be incredible and I’m glad y’all will be there to witness our epic love.”
Everyone clinks their glasses together and takes a sip of their drinks.
“The wedding will be nice and all, but what about the rest of their lives?” Kendra murmurs to me under her breath.
“For real.” I take a long sip of my wine.
A waiter comes around and takes our orders from the prix fixe menu on the table, then someone else tops off our wine already.
“Speaking of the rest of your life,” Kendra says, keeping her voice low. “How’s married life?”
I resist the urge to look back at Ash, and my stomach tightens. Kendra has always been someone I go to whenever I need advice. This fake marriage is the first time I haven’t been able to confide in her in tough times, and it almost hurts not to say anything.
But I can’t tell both her and Jeremiah about the truth behind the marriage.
Since I can reasonably pull off the lie with her – mostly because we aren’t as tight as Jeremiah and I am -- I should.
She wouldn’t tell Danika, but we should keep the truth to as few people as possible.
Secrets have legs. What if my niece and nephew overhear her telling Malcolm and say something to someone they shouldn’t?
I wish I could get her insight.
What do I do now that I see Ash in a new light?
Now that he’s clearly not the young man with a massive chip on his shoulder and a bad boy attitude?
Now he’s just the man who looked like he was going to kick that asshole at the bar in the teeth for snapping at me.
The same one who I caught baby-talking Pip, even though he claims he’s not a cat person.