Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy
“Why can’t every day be Oktoberfest?” Ryan says as she takes a bite of her deep-fried Twinkie.
She’s a little tipsy, as nearly everyone in the beer garden is.
It’s rare she goes anywhere these days without my brother, but Mia, Ryan, and I haven’t had a girls' weekend in years, and Oktoberfest was the perfect excuse. Sawyer is with Gus and Knox, who are tag-teaming dad duties. I don’t have a kid or a significant other unless you count co-parenting the cutest chocolate lab there ever was.
If that counts, she’s at home with her ridiculous daddy.
“Tell me about it. Fried food, enormous beers, and no sticky little hands all over me.”
“Ew. I don’t need to know about you and my brother's sex life,” I yell at Mia, pretending to gag.
Yelling is the only way to talk as loud as it is in here. Packed into this beer garden like sardines with hundreds of other people, there are a few things you have to be okay with before you enter.
Beer being spilt on you.
Partygoers bursting into song throughout the evening.
Obnoxiously drunk men will talk way too close, using the loud surroundings as their excuse. Some may even act inappropriately until you put them in their place.
If you’re okay with all of the above, then you’ll have a grand old time here in the beer garden.
Mia smacks me on the arm. “Shut up. You know I meant my kid. Who I love. But not being mommy for 48 hours is pretty dreamy.”
“I can only imagine. You deserve a break,” I assure her.
“Well, I’ll be getting more breaks than I ever thought I would be. This is Knox’s first full weekend with Sawyer.” Her focus leaves mine and moves to Ryan. “I know he’s great with him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t down that first beer in record time because my world is a little rocked.”
Ryan takes her hand. “Totally understandable. This is new to everyone. At least he’s with Angus, and they're doing this first weekend together. It’s gonna be fine. The four of us are gonna be fine.”
Mia’s eyes go glossy, her beer and emotions getting the best of her.
She places her free hand on top of Ryan’s and even though they can and will discuss anything and everything with me I think I’m going to give them a moment to be in their feelings and discuss their new life of actual co-parenting together. Sawyer is not a puppy after all.
“You know what’s not going to be fine? My bladder. I’ll be back.” I begin to leave but stop mid-stride, turning back to my best friends. “You beer buzzing bitches better not leave this table. It’s a miracle we have it. We do not want to lose it.”
“We won’t go anywhere,” Mia assures me.
“Okay, I’ll be back after some quality time in a tiny box full of feces.”
“Sounds like a great place to meet your future husband.”
“Ryan, you’re disgusting, you know that.”
“Okay, maybe a random hookup. You don’t have to do it in the honey bucket. He can take you back to his.”
“Girls’ weekend, remember?”
She lifts her nearly gone beer in reply.
I do believe Ryan is a wee bit beyond tipsy. She may even be full on blato. Lord help us.
Leaving them to their drunk discussion, I weave through the beer garden and out to some lesser-known porta potties where the line is much shorter than everywhere else.
I’m done in a flash but take my time getting back to the girls, checking out some of the craft booths on my way.
The sun is high in the sky, warming my skin as I admire the town and all it has to offer for this year's festivities.
We made the nearly three-hour drive to the valley this morning and are renting a house for the night. I’m not sure how Knox got a place at the last minute, but when you have rock star money, you can make things happen. You won’t hear me complaining.
Mt. Angel is full of Bavarian-style architecture and the perfect place to host the annual party. Thousands descend on this tiny town each year. Mia, Ryan, and I made this trip three times during college. It was our little going away party weekend before we went our separate ways each September.
I’d say we’re reliving our youth, but when two of us are having a discussion about how to raise a child together, I can’t even pretend this trip is the same as it once was.
I’ve reached the end of a row of booths and am admiring some pretty flower crowns when a large hand slips into mine.
My heartbeat echoes in my head, fear lacing the blood in my veins, but one gentle rub of his thumb over mine and the racing heart in my chest is for an entirely different reason and I let him pull me away.
The moment we’re on the other side of the tents, out of sight, my face is in his hands, and his lips are on mine. And like I always do, I kiss him back.
It’s as natural as breathing.
If only breathing him in wasn’t bad for my health.
Yet, I continue to kiss him with everything I am. “What are you doing?” I ask against his lips, regretting it instantly, because our kiss ends.
He rests his forehead against mine. “Had to be done. It was 3:33.”
He doesn’t need to explain any further. Our unwritten rule says we must kiss when the clock dictates so. My brain knows that here in broad daylight is not the time or place. Yet, when he gently presses my back against a large tree, my libido steps in, and I don’t stop him like I should.
With one hand on my hip and one still on my face, his lips find their way back to mine. This time his kiss is a gentle caress. As if he’s trying to tell me something I refuse to hear when he speaks the words that scare me half to death.
Words I refuse to accept.
Overwhelmed, I shove against his chest, and he respectfully takes a step back, stuffing his hands in his front pockets.
He’s calm as can be, while my chest heaves up and down. My disloyal body gives me away, but he doesn’t press further.
Time stops as we watch one another. His expression is one of certainty. The man knows what he wants. But I’m smarter than he is. I know how this ends. He’s one of my best friends, and I refuse to lose him. So, I meet his stare, refusing to speak first.
“So, you gonna break up with him while you’re in L.A.?”
“What?”
“You’re just prolonging his misery.”
“There’s nothing to break up. Mark and I are not exclusive.”
“Maybe not, but I know men. There’s no way he isn’t hoping to change that. Any man who’s been fortunate to be in your orbit could never find casually dating you enough. He wants you all to himself. Trust me.”
“You’re crazy.”
“End it,” he orders.
I should be angry that he thinks he can tell me what to do. Instead, butterflies spring to life, living for this possessive side of him.
“Why do you even care?”
“You’re cute when you pretend to be dumb.” He flicks my nose with his finger. “The thing is, I know you’re anything but.”
Yes, he’s confessed how he feels about me, but he’s never asked me to stop dating.
He made a lot of bold statements in Hawaii.
However, I thought he was caught up in the moment, deep in his vacation bliss.
But New York… well, he proved I was mistaken not to have taken his feelings to heart.
Since then, there haven’t been any more sweeping confessions; instead, there have been small actions that prove his feelings were bigger than I ever imagined.
And I’ll be damned if his affectionate actions don’t melt my heart more than his words.
“What’s gotten into you, Owen?”
“You,” he states matter-of-factly, yet his eyes soften, and he reaches out to cup my face.
You.
One word is all it takes. My heart soars and my body yearns for him to close the space between us. To put his hands on my body again.
“There you are!” Ryan interrupts, with Mia on her heels.
“Yay! Owen’s here!” Mia exclaims when she sees the two of us together.
Thank God these two are drunk. If they were sober, they’d see me reeling from the word that left his mouth the moment before they showed up. They would see my hands shaking and the flush on my cheeks. Luckily, they’re clueless about what they’ve interrupted.
Ryan looks at me sheepishly. “Don’t be mad, but we left to get a pretzel.” She holds said pretzel in front of her face. “And some old dudes took our table.”
Mia shakes her head. “We didn’t listen,” she blurts. “We never listen.”
Before I can scold them, Owen steps in. “Well, would you look at this? I can’t remember the last time I saw either of you quite this hammered.”
Ryan lifts her hands above her head. “Bavarian music, dudes in lederhosen, and beer. It’s a deadly combination, Swift. Besides, we’re both going through some serious shit. We deserve this.”
Swaying a bit, Mia explains. “Owen, I’m sharing custody of my son with my boyfriend's brother, and this one is in love with Knox. She deserves a drink or fifty.”
“What she said,” Ryan concurs, her head upturned to face the deep blue sky. “Also, it was hot in there. This breeze feels amazing.”
“Why don’t we get those pretzels in your belly and then maybe switch to water for a bit?” I suggest.
Owen and I take care of the girls until they’re feeling better. Shockingly, they rally quickly and before you know it, we’re back in the beer garden. Owen and his friends from work have commandeered multiple tables. We’re safe and sound, surrounded by police officers, firefighters, and EMTs.
There is no shortage of attractive men in the vicinity, yet only one stands out. The one who doesn’t leave my side. Not even to get beer. He sends his co-workers with a handful of cash and our orders. His own beer must be warm, because he’s barely sipping it.
Someone bumps into me and in a flash, his hand is resting on my lower back. It’s sexy as hell, but he seems too preoccupied with taking care of us to enjoy himself.
I tug on his T-shirt to get his attention. Tipping my head back to look at him. “Did we ruin your night?”
His hand on my back slides to my hip, pulling me against his side. “You could never ruin my night. I’m happier than a pig in shit to be here with you.”
“Could have fooled me. You’re barely drinking, and if you ask me, you’re a little too overprotective to have any fun.”
“This isn’t my first Oktoberfest, Clover. I know what happens here. None of these assholes are getting their hands on you. There is no such thing as being overprotective of the three of you.”
“Well, it’s gonna be a long night for you. You'd better drink up.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for you tonight, and impairment is not a part of those plans.”
“I’m staying with the girls.”
“No, you're not.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re staying with me.”
“Says who?”
“God, you’re beautiful.”