Chapter 2
— Remmy —
“Where the fuck are you, Remmy?” Bastian hissed into the phone. “The bridesmaids are about to walk out.”
“I’ve literally just pulled up. I took a wrong turn, then got lost backtracking.”
I could have almost cried in frustration when I realized my mistake but bit back the reaction out of worry for my makeup, though the burning knot in my chest refused to ease. I could practically already hear what my family would have to say about me turning up late to Mercedes and Beckett’s wedding—yet another black mark on my long history of fuck ups.
“Okay, hurry. The music has started!” Bass hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.
Shouldering my phone against my ear, I grabbed my high heels and clutch off the passenger seat, then shoved the driver’s door open.
“Fuck, okay, I’ll see you in a minute. Bye.” I didn’t wait for him to hang up before disconnecting, setting the black and gold high heels on the gravel and wiggling my moneymakers into them.
I knew I should have left town earlier. I ended up in bum-fuck nowhere on a narrow rural Montana road. Cell coverage was as sketchy as my past, and I drove until I had enough coverage to figure out where the hell I’d ended up. Turned out, I was a long-ass way from the location my cousin was getting married.
Picking my way across the gravel parking lot of the lodge as fast as I could in heels, I followed the cute little signs around the side of the expansive log building and across the stunning back yard. Beyond it lay a flat field that sat directly between two hills that bowed together in the distance. Montana was stunning and rugged and breathtaking all at once. I could see why Mercedes was happy to call this state home now.
Pausing at the cute little rustic gate that linked the yard and the field, I waited for Mercedes to finish her graceful walk down the aisle to where Beckett waited for her beneath a floral-and vine-laden arbor. I’d correctly assumed that all the guests’ attention would be on my gorgeous cousin and her man, but I didn’t make a completely incognito entrance.
“Thank fuck,” Bass whispered as I slid into the back row beside him. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”
I leaned into his space and murmured, “One person definitely did.”
His hazel eyes widened. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. First groomsman.”
Bass snorted. “Of course he did… And he’s staring.”
As if he could hear our conversation, the first of Beckett’s groomsmen seemed to scrutinize us with his eyes narrowed against the high afternoon sun. I tilted my head and stared back, getting the sense of familiarity. Like I’d met him before.
“Who is he?” I whispered to Bastian.
He hummed. “Scout Gatlin, injured pitcher for the Portland Bears.”
My mouth fell open in shock. What were the chances?
My brother scoffed. “Yeah yeah, close your mouth, Rems. Every other single woman here had the same reaction.”
I shook my head. Of course Bastian didn’t understand, but I wasn’t about to say that I’d met the man in question before. In fact, I’d helped out his niece after she’d made out with one of his teammates at the restaurant and her makeup had ended up an utter disaster. Mr. tall, dark, and broody had barged into the women’s bathroom without so much as a knock or an apology.
“I bet,” I murmured, returning my attention back to the reason we had gathered today.
Bastian slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me a little closer. His chuckle had me glancing his way.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
He smirked wickedly. “Fucking with him. Just roll with it.”
Fuck, fine. Whatever. Truthfully, the weight of his touch helped settle the knot in my belly. Bass always had that calming effect on me. Even at my lowest, when I’d been the person everyone had given up on and no one wanted to be around, Bastian had lingered on the outskirts, unseen but known about, like my Archangel. Every time I landed in hospital, he was there, picking up the pieces and never giving up. Not once.
I drank in Mercedes’ stunning appearance and fought the tears trying to well in my eyes. She was beautiful on any given day, but she was breathtaking in her off-the-shoulder, cream lace bohemian gown with bell sleeves, with her long black hair hanging in loose curls down her back. Getting her happily ever after, after the shit that went down, gave me hope for finding my own knight in shining armor.
“She looks so happy,” I breathed out.
Bass simply hummed, then unlooped his arm from across my shoulders.
When her and Beckett kissed to seal their marriage, I whooped and hollered, then blew her a kiss when they breezed down the aisle, hand in hand.
As soon as my eyes flicked from the newlyweds to the best man and maid of honor following along behind, my wide smile faltered.
Scout’s smile narrowed, his assessing gaze locked with mine. He tilted his head ever so slightly and the pucker between his eyebrows gave away how perplexed he was. I knew he couldn’t place me, and why would he? I was just another woman in the sea that surrounded him. On the flip side, he was the man I didn’t forget.
“Damn, he’s really got a staring problem,” Bastian drawled while glancing over his shoulder.
I willed myself not to do the same. Instead, I tossed my hair off my shoulder and gave my brother a teasing smirk. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
He barked a laugh. “Bullshit. You’ve got those…” He wiggled his fingertips at my eyelashes. “…spider legs fluttering. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I rapidly blinked said spider legs, playing coy. “He won’t know what hit him later.”
Bass groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Please don’t cause another scandal, Rems.”
“Pfft. I won’t. I’ve had enough of them, thank you very much.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” he murmured as my attention finally wandered to Scout.
He held a conversation with the bridesmaid he was paired with, though his eyes kept flicking over her shoulder to find me in the crowd.
“C’mon.” Bastian nudged me, then turned my shoulders, guiding me from the line of seats and toward our parents.
I groaned while forcing a friendly smile, then relaxed marginally when they both gave me a somewhat forced and awkward hug. Things were tense between us. I’d broken their trust multiple times and pushed their love to the utmost limits, and I was still trying to figure out how to mend what I broke.
I’d started by apologizing after the wake-up call that almost cost my life and had been taking baby steps with them ever since.
“You look lovely, Remmy,” Mom said pleasantly, though a little hesitantly.
Warmth bloomed from her praise, as minor as it was. I’d worked hard to regain weight and now loved my curves. “Thanks, Mom. You look nice too.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught my auntie and uncle approaching with sour looks on their faces. They still didn’t think much of me despite my efforts to make amends.
Bastian nudged me again. “Let’s get a drink.”
He didn’t need to ask me twice, especially to avoid the unwanted sour expressions of our extended family members.
After a fleeting sad smile at our parents, I tottered alongside my brother’s long strides. “You’d think I screwed them over.”
“They need to remove the carrots from their asses,” he stated without a care for the shocked gasps and side-eyes aimed our way.
At the drinks table, Bass plucked two flukes from the table. “Juice?”
“Thanks.” I took a sip and savored it. It wasn’t champagne, but I didn’t touch bubbles nowadays.
He hastily swallowed a sip from his champagne flute, then hissed, “Heads up, he’s coming over.”
“ Who ?” I mouthed, flaring my eyes.
With a smug smirk on his face, Bastian ignored me and gave a chin-lift to whomever stepped up behind me.
“Hey, man.” My brother offered his hand. “Bastian Adams. Good to meet you.”
“Scout,” came the new, masculine voice as a handshake was exchanged.
Scout? Fuck .
I spun and offered my best smile, though careful to keep my walls in place. I wasn’t one for fawning over men—even ones as fine as Scout Gatlin.
Scout’s searing gaze immediately locked with mine and a teasing smile played at the corner of his mouth. “You know, it’s rude to arrive after the bride.”
Popping a hip, I gave him a sassy glare. “And it’s rude to only introduce yourself to one person in the group.”
He chuckled and offered his hand. “Scout Gatlin. Portland Bears’ first pitcher. Nice to meet you…”
I thrust my palm into his, nice and firm just like my daddy taught me. “Remmy Adams. C.E.O. of I don’t give a fuck.”
Scout balked while Bastian sprayed champagne from his mouth without warning, then burst into laughter.
“Christ, Remmy!” He turned to Scout. “Sorry, dude, I would say she’s normally not this much of a bitch, but she actually is.”
Thankfully Scout threw his head back in hearty laughter that had me feeling like I’d won the bout. When his warm brown eyes found mine again, they shone with amusement. He slowly shook his head and grinned at me like I was a fun puzzle he was determined to figure out.
I could see the cogs of his memory turning, rallying to place me. He cocked his head. “Have we met before?”
Despite the insecurities in my chest, I scoffed subtly and tipped the top of my juice-filled champagne flute in his direction. “If you have to ask, then you’re wasting both our time.”
His chin tucked back in shock, yet the lazy, calculating smirk tipped one side of his mouth again. Molten eyes traveled down and up my body. “Well, aren’t you a tall, stunning, refreshing glass of water.”
Flattery wouldn’t get him anywhere. I lifted my chin a fraction. “Flirting with me in front of my boyfriend… that’s a brave move.”
Scout scoffed. “He ain’t your boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” Playing with him was fun. I purposefully shifted closer to Bastian. “And what makes you think that?”
A mischievous glint entered Scout’s gaze as he dashed his head toward Bass. “Kiss him.”
Bass swallowed his sip and lifted both brows at me. We both knew we were fucked.
“Okay,” I purred, then landed a kiss on my brother’s cheek.
Scout wasn’t buying it. “Nah-ah, on the lips. Make out.”
I was open-minded given the way I made my money, but tonguing my brother was a hard no. I raised both hands, glass flute still pinched between my manicured thumb and fingers, and submitted. “Fine, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my brother.”
“I know,” Scout deadpanned, looking me over with approval that would make any other woman’s knees weak. “So, were you gonna tell me where we’ve met before, Remmy?”
Holding his gaze, I inched closer until our chests almost bumped. I was tall enough in my heels to come nose-to-nose with him, and as I did, his warm hand landed on my hip. His fingers tensed ever so subtly as I cupped his cheek and leaned in.
Grinning to myself when his firm fingers bit in a little harder, I whispered against the shell of his ear, “If I tell you, it would be cheating.”