Chapter 42
Elsie
The rest of the afternoon and evening are something straight out of a fairytale.
Olivia and Cam exchange vows as sunshine streams in through the big windows on the bride’s side, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Tears stream down my cheeks as my friends say “I do,” and I cheer along with everyone else when Cam finally gets to kiss his bride.
“Introducing, for the first time ever – Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien!” the officiant booms into his mic.
Olivia and Cam sneak in another quick kiss before making their way back down the aisle to Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together.
” Instead of watching my newly wedded friends, I find myself looking to where Declan sits in one of the last few rows.
Of course, he’s already watching me. When he notices me looking, the corner of his mouth quirks up and I smile back, my eyes raking over him.
I got a few glimpses of him during the ceremony, but I was trying not to gawk while my best friend was getting married.
Now, though, I get my fill. He looks handsome in his dark suit.
More dressed up than I’ve ever seen him, but still Declan.
His suit is simple, with a white dress shirt and no tie.
The top few buttons of his shirt have been left unbuttoned and I can see the dark tattoos peeking out from the collar.
Once Olivia and Cam have made their way down the aisle, it’s the wedding party’s turn. Ethan holds his arm out for Grace to slip her hand through, and he leans over and whispers something in her ear before they begin walking. I swear I catch the word “beautiful.”
When Ty holds his arm out for me, I let him lead me down the aisle toward the back of the chapel, where we’ll meet up with the rest of the wedding party and immediate family so we can take photos while the rest of the guests enjoy cocktail hour.
As I pass by Declan, still seated in his pew, he winks at me.
“Your tattoo god cleans up nicely,” Ty murmurs in my ear.
“So does your man,” I whisper back. I’d spotted Noah in the crowd partway through the ceremony, wearing a light gray suit and sitting next to
“He’s not my man,” Ty says. “Yet,” he adds with a mischievous grin.
I happen to know that he plans to finally ask Noah out on a date tonight, and I know that Noah – who has quickly become one of my closest friends – is going to say yes.
They’re going to be so good together.
Ty and I are whisked away for photos for nearly an hour, and then it’s time for our entrance at the wedding reception, which is being held in a gorgeous ballroom next door to the chapel.
The room has big french doors that open onto a spacious deck overlooking the water, so guests can drink and dance inside or get some fresh air and mingle outdoors.
When I hear the opening notes of “You Make My Dreams (Come True),” our entrance song, my palms begin to sweat. I’ve been dreading this part of the evening, knowing that all eyes will temporarily be on Ty and I.
“You ready, babydoll?” he asks once Grace and Ethan have made their entrance to the whoops and hollers of the wedding guests.
“Absolutely not,” I tell him honestly. “Let’s do it.”
Despite my nerves, we have fun with it. I almost forget to be embarrassed as Ty dances backward into the room and I prowl toward him, tossing long-stemmed white roses into the air that he catches with his teeth.
The crowd laughs and claps, and I have to resist the urge to look for Declan, who I know is seated at a table to my left with Noah, my parents, Sean and Frankie, and the owners of The Grind.
Georgia and Aiden are seated at a separate table with some friends from high school who work at Captain’s.
It’s the first time my parents have spent any real time around Declan, and for my own sanity, I’m trying to ignore that fact.
It’s later in the evening – after the swoon-worthy first dance, Olivia and Gail’s dance in lieu of the father-daughter song, and a delicious surf and turf dinner – when I finally have a break to go see Declan.
My pulse ticks steadily upward the closer I get to where he’s seated with my parents and Aiden, who has migrated over to their table.
The others must be out on the dance floor, which is packed, just like Olivia had hoped it would be.
After hours of research, she curated the perfect playlist for the DJ, full of songs guaranteed to get people dancing and having a good time.
Based on the number of people jumping around and singing along to a Pitbull song, I’d say she was successful.
I weave my way through the crowd, stopping along the way to say quick hellos to people I haven’t had the chance to chat with yet. All the while, I can feel Declan’s eyes on me.
I was the one who told Olivia it was fine if she seated Declan and my parents at the same table.
I think she was assuming they’d actually know each other by the time the wedding rolled around, and I never corrected her.
I never confessed that I’m terrified to take that step and have him meet my family.
Instead, I’ve been blissfully in denial about them spending time together today, without me there to play interference.
Declan and I have been… well, whatever we are, for a while now. Long enough that I probably should have introduced him to my parents by now. Introduce him as the guy I’m dating, I mean. They met once, when our shops first opened, but it was brief, and they haven’t been in each other’s orbit since.
I feel a pang of guilt in my gut as I realize yet another misstep I’ve made where Declan is concerned.
I’ve been so terrified of having another relationship of mine turn into a public spectacle that I’ve been hiding Declan like a dirty little secret.
One that the whole town seems to be aware of by now, but still.
I know it’s not fair to him. Watching him sit stiffly across from my parents, I realize it now more than ever.
As I reach the table, my wayward pulse settles into something a little closer to normal. Despite my anxiety over the situation, having Declan near helps to calm me. Not for the first time, I marvel at the fact that he has that kind of effect on me.
And it must be mutual, because I watch as his body visibly relaxes, his shoulders lowering and his mouth quirking up into something resembling a smile. His eyes lose some of the tightness I’d noticed at the corners, and the way they soften as they move across my face leaves me a little bit in awe.
“Hi, honey,” my mom says, and I pry my eyes from the beautiful man across from me to look at her. “You look lovely. What a gorgeous wedding.”
“You knocked the flowers out of the park,” my dad says. “I’m proud of you, kid,” he adds gruffly.
“Thank you,” I tell them both. “Noah and I were up at the crack of dawn to make sure it all got finished, but it was worth it.”
I turn my attention to my brother, who raises an eyebrow at me. “What, you need more compliments?”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes. “I was just going to say hi, you doofus.”
“Ouch,” Aiden says, clutching his chest. He’s wearing the same dark gray suit I’ve seen him in a hundred times for his away soccer games. “You’d speak to me that way in front of your new boyfriend?” He tsks like he’s disappointed in me, and my cheeks heat.
My parents, the saints that they are, ignore his use of the word boyfriend, though it lingers between us like a physical presence, an extra person seated at the table, here to cause chaos and fray my nerves.
“Be nice to your sister,” my mom scolds. Her eyes briefly flit over to Declan, then back to me. I can see the questions in her gaze, but she doesn’t voice them. I’m sure I’ll be getting the third degree at Sunday dinner tomorrow.
“Hey, Elsie,” Declan finally says, and even after all this time, the sound of my name from his lips makes something low in my belly turn over.
I’ve heard those two syllables moaned in my ear while he’s deep inside me, and whispered against my hair as he’s saying goodnight, and dancing on a laugh when I’ve said something he finds particularly funny.
But even now, it still stirs something inside me.
“Hi, Declan.”
The ballroom goes quiet for a moment as the music switches over to a slow song. Declan surprises me when he stands from his seat and rounds the table, extending his hand out toward me. “I promised to save a dance for you,” he reminds me.
I look over to my parents, who exchange a knowing look. “Go,” my mom tells me. “We’ll chat more later.”
“We’re about due for a dance ourselves,” my dad adds.
I slip my hand into Declan’s and allow him to lead me out to the dance floor, where he immediately pulls me into his arms. I try to ignore the curious eyes I can feel lingering on our backs as we sway to the music, instead keeping my attention on the handsome man whose hand fits perfectly on my lower back.
He clasps one of my hands in his and tucks them tight against his chest, looking down at me with that devastating, gentle smile I’ve come to think of as mine.
“I’ve been itching to get you in my arms since you first entered that chapel,” Declan murmurs, his voice low.
He leans down as if to kiss me, and I can’t help it; my spine stiffens, panic clawing at my chest at the idea of such a public display of affection.
I can tell by the way his hand flexes against my back that he notices.
He looks away, but not before I catch the hurt that flares in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It’s not the first time I’ve apologized for it, and it probably won’t be the last. He knows I’m uncomfortable with PDA, though he doesn’t know the extent of it.
He doesn’t know about the deep-rooted anxiety that’s kept me from seriously dating anyone for the last six -++years.
How could he? I haven’t exactly been honest with him about it.
Not for the first time, I realize Declan deserves so much better than what I’ve been giving him.
“Your first big event,” he says, interrupting my self-loathing. He nods to the nearest table, where a baby blue and orange floral arrangement with sprigs of eucalyptus sits at the center. “How does it feel?”
If I wasn’t such a coward, I’d give him a proper apology, maybe even an explanation for my behavior. Instead, I take the lifeline he’s throwing me and roll with his change in topic.
“Incredible,” I admit. “It really was a perfect wedding, wasn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Declan strokes his thumb across the back of my hand while his eyes hold mine. “I was watching you.”
My breath catches at his confession, and I want to rise up onto my toes and kiss him so badly that it scares me.
It scares me so much that I take a step back, out of his arms. He immediately releases his hold on me, his hands falling at his sides as a mixture of confusion and hurt flashes across his handsome face.
“Elsie?”
“I’m sorry, I just…” I trail off, looking for an excuse, a reason to explain why I’m ruining what should be a perfect evening.
“I’ll be right back. Bathroom,” I toss over my shoulder as I hurry from the dance floor.
I really do head for the restroom, though I don’t need to go.
Instead, I stand at the sink, desperately wanting to splash some cool water on my face but not wanting to ruin the makeup that Petra so carefully applied.
“I still can’t believe it,” a voice says from one of the stalls. Two of the six doors are shut, and whoever is behind them either didn’t hear me enter, or they don’t mind having an audience.
“I can’t either,” a second voice says. “I mean, she’s perfect, obviously.”
“Oh, totally. But a girl like her and a guy like that? Who would have thought a tattoo artist would even be her type?”
I freeze where I stand, gripping the cool marble countertop. They’re talking about me?
“Absolutely wild.”
I try to place the voices but come up blank. I don’t recognize them, and with the number of people here tonight, it could be anybody.
A snicker from one of them makes my stomach clench. “She must have a freaky side underneath all those cardigans.”
The sound of a toilet flushing jolts me out of my frozen stupor. I hurry toward the door, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Although if anyone should be embarrassed, it’s the two women who are rude enough to talk about me in a public restroom at my best friend’s wedding.
I hear the lock on a stall door slide open just before the bathroom door closes behind me, and I hurry back down the hall. Only after I’ve put some space between myself and the bathroom does the panic set in.
My worst fears are coming true – people talking about my relationship, speculating and forming opinions on things that don’t concern them.
I love this town, but I’ve already been the talk of it once.
I don’t want that again, and it’s exactly why I’ve avoided getting into a serious relationship since then.
The worst part is that I know I shouldn’t give any weight to their words. Deep down I know that, but I can’t help it. It’s all too easy to let strangers in a restroom scare me off from dating again, and to believe that they’re right – that Declan and I don’t make sense together.
What will happen once he realizes that?
I don’t want to think about it.
I make my way back into the ballroom, my eyes scanning the crowd for the man who deserves so much better than the basket case wrapped in a pretty package that I feel like tonight.
When I reach the edge of the dance floor and spot him standing along the opposite side, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for me, my heart aches in a way I’m not prepared to deal with right now.
So I turn and I bolt.