Chapter 37
CASH
Icouldn’t stop watching her. I tried. God knew I tried.
I focused on my brothers’ conversations, on the food, on the ocean view, on literally anything except Cleo laughing with the bridesmaids on the other side of the patio. It didn’t work.
My attention kept drifting back to her like a compass finding north. The way she threw her head back when she laughed. The way she made sure everyone had what they needed. The way she moved through the party making everyone around her feel lighter, brighter, more alive.
A month apart hadn’t dulled it. If anything, the wanting had gotten sharper.
“You’re staring,” Finn said beside me.
“I’m not staring.”
“You’re definitely staring. Have been for the last hour.”
I took a drink and didn’t deny it.
“When are you going to do something about it?” he asked.
“About what?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s beneath you.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re in love with her. She’s clearly not over you. This tension is making everyone uncomfortable.”
“I’m not making anyone uncomfortable.”
“Cash, Austin asked me earlier if you two were going to ‘keep being weird’ all weekend. Direct quote.”
I looked at my soon-to-be-married brother who was currently deep in conversation with Hayes about something that involved a lot of hand gestures. Austin looked happy. Settled. Like he’d figured out the equation I was still struggling with.
“I don’t want to ruin his wedding,” I said.
“You won’t ruin his wedding by being happy.” Finn nudged my shoulder. “Just saying.”
“This is his day. His weekend. I’m not going to fall in love on his day.”
Finn snorted. “First of all, you already did that. Second of all, it takes nothing from his day. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Melody made her excuses and circled the room, saying goodnight. With the pregnancy and it being her big day tomorrow, she needed to be well-rested. The bridesmaids followed shortly after, a parade of hugs and excited squealing about the big day.
Cleo was the last to leave. She caught my eye across the patio, lifted her Diet Coke in a small salute, and disappeared inside.
I watched her go and felt the loss of her presence like a physical thing. Her energy was like the sun. When it went to bed for the night, you felt it. There was a chill. A sadness. Longing.
“Okay, she’s gone,” Austin said, suddenly appearing beside me. “You can stop looking like a sad puppy now.”
“I don’t look like a sad puppy.”
“You look exactly like a sad puppy.” He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and refilled both our glasses. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
“Too bad. You’re my best man. I’m legally required to give you relationship advice the night before my wedding. It’s tradition.”
“That’s not a tradition.”
“It is now. I’m making it one.” He settled into the chair beside me. “So. Cleo.”
I took a long drink. Finn sauntered over, clearly feeling the alcohol he’d been consuming all night, and fell into a chair all Gumby-like.
“That bad, huh?” Austin asked.
“I’m in love with her,” I said.
The words came out easier than I expected.
Maybe because I’d had enough whiskey that my filters were down.
Maybe because Austin was getting married tomorrow and that made tonight feel like some kind of safe confessional space.
He knew love. He knew how it snuck up on you and grabbed you by the balls without warning.
Maybe because I was tired of pretending.
“I know,” Austin said.
“You know?”
“Everyone knows. Except maybe Cleo, because you haven’t told her.” He looked at me. “Why haven’t you told her?”
“Because I—” I stopped. Started again. “Because I don’t deserve her.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I walked away from her in Rome. I shut down when she needed me to be present.” I ran a hand through my hair. “She deserves better than that.”
“Does she?” Austin leaned forward. “Or does she deserve the guy she obviously fell in love with?”
“That guy doesn’t exist without her.”
“Exactly.” He grinned. “That’s kind of the whole point, Cash.
Love doesn’t make you less yourself. It makes you more.
The version of you that exists when you’re with her?
That’s the real you. The one you’ve been hiding behind spreadsheets and Dad’s expectations for the last twenty years.
Trust me, I know this. It’s like she held the key and she unlocked the real you. ”
“Poetic,” Finn said.
Austin glared at him. “Only Cleo holds that key. She is the only woman that will ever hold that key.”
I looked at him. My little brother. The one I’d spent years trying to protect, trying to fix, trying to save from himself.
When had he gotten so wise?
“You’re drunk,” I said.
“Extremely. Doesn’t make me wrong.” He clapped my shoulder. “Tell her. After the wedding. Don’t let this thing with Cleo end because you’re too scared to try.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then at least you’ll know. But I don’t think she will.”
“I’ve never been in love,” I said. “Maybe it’s just infatuation. She’s different.”
“It’s love,” Finn and Austin said at the same time.
I shook my head. “I’m not convinced.”
“Love doesn’t convince you,” Austin said. “It just is.”
I sipped my drink. “Shit. You think so? Am I truly in love with a woman I barely know?”
“Yes. That’s how it works. Especially with someone like Cleo.” Austin sounded very confident. “That’s the kind of woman that spins into your life like the Tasmanian Devil and shakes shit up. You needed it.”
I let those words sink in. “Holy shit. You’re right.”
“About fucking time.” Finn raised his glass. “To Cash finally admitting he has feelings. Only took forty years and a Roman vacation.”
Hayes and Isaac wandered over. “What are we toasting to?”
“Cash being in love,” Finn announced.
“Oh shit, really?” Hayes looked delighted. “With the purple-haired girl?”
“Her name is Cleo,” I said.
“With Cleo,” Hayes corrected. “That’s great, man. She’s fantastic.”
Isaac nodded. “Does she call you Lurch?”
“She does,” I said.
“See? That’s love.” Isaac grinned. “When are you telling her?”
“After the wedding,” Finn answered for me. “He doesn’t want to ruin Austin’s big day with his feelings.”
“My feelings aren’t going to ruin anything,” I said.
“They might improve things,” Austin suggested. “Make it more romantic. Wedding magic and all that.”
We kept drinking. The conversation devolved into increasingly ridiculous territory. Finn told a story about the junkyard that got more embellished with each retelling.
“I’m still not sure,” I said before taking another drink. My head was pleasantly fuzzy, but I wasn’t drunk enough to forget my doubts. “What if this is just… what if it’s just Rome? What if we get together and she realizes I’m still the same uptight asshole I’ve always been?”
Finn leaned forward. “Listen, as the only perpetually single guy at this table, I’m uniquely qualified to give relationship advice.”
“That makes literally no sense,” Hayes pointed out.
“Exactly!” Finn jabbed a finger at him. “I know what not to do. Learn from my mistakes.”
“Basically don’t do what you do,” Isaac said.
“My point is you need a grand gesture. Women love grand gestures. Like, hire a skywriter. Or release a thousand doves at the reception.”
“That would definitely ruin my wedding,” Austin said.
“Or you could steal the mic during the reception and declare your love through song. Can you sing?”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Even better! More vulnerable that way.”
I looked at Austin. “Is this what I’ve been missing by avoiding relationships? This level of terrible advice?”
Austin laughed. “Finn’s an idiot. Don’t listen to him.”
“Hey!”
“But he’s right about one thing,” Austin continued. “You can’t overthink this. When I met Melody, I knew. I just knew. And I fought it for a while because it scared the shit out of me, but eventually I realized the scariest thing wasn’t being with her. It was the thought of not being with her.”
Isaac nodded. “Yep. You just get to this point that you figure out life isn’t fulfilling without the woman you love. You’ll be miserable. You’re ruined.”
“That’s comforting.”
But I knew what he meant. The thought of never seeing Cleo again was worse than any fear I had about getting it wrong.
“I knew Dixie was the one when she told me to my face that I was being an ass about something,” Hayes said. “No one else would dare. I loved that about her.”
“Mina was unexpected,” Isaac added. “I wasn’t looking for it. But once I found her, I knew I’d never want anyone else. You just know, man.”
“I just know,” I repeated. “That simple, huh?”
“It’s the simplest and hardest thing in the world,” Austin said. “But worth it.”
Finn poured another round. “To Cash getting his head out of his ass!”
“To love,” Austin corrected, raising his glass.
We clinked glasses and talked about kids. Hayes and Isaac had plenty of advice for Austin. Finn and I sat quietly and listened. Well, I sat quietly but Finn had opinions.
By two in the morning, Austin was barely coherent.
“I’m getting married,” he kept saying. “Tomorrow. To Melody. Who is perfect. Did I mention she’s perfect?”
“Several times,” I said. “And I think you need to go to bed. You’re drunk. A hungover groom is not a good look.”
“I’ll get him some water,” Finn said.
Finn and Hayes helped me haul Austin to one of the smaller bedrooms. He was dead weight, mumbling about how much he loved everyone and how tomorrow was going to be the best day ever. We deposited him on the bed still mumbling.
“Where’s Melody?” he asked reaching out for her.
“In her bed.”
That seemed to confuse him.
“Separate beds. The night before the wedding, remember?”
He popped out his bottom lip like a toddler. I rolled my eyes, pulled the blanket over him, and walked out.
“Think he’ll be okay?” Hayes asked.
“He’s survived worse,” I said. “He’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words,” Finn muttered.
We left Austin to sleep it off and headed back downstairs. Most people had gone to bed or left to go to their houses. Just a few stragglers on the patio. I stopped when I caught a flash of purple.
Cleo was coming up the stairs. She was barefoot, carrying her shoes in one hand, wine glass in the other. Her cheeks were flushed. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder. Her hair was slightly messed. She looked stunning.
“Cash,” she said when she saw me. Surprised. A little breathless.
“Cleo.”
She looked at my brothers who suddenly vanished.
“We just put Austin to bed,” I blurted out.
She winced. “I hope he’s not too hungover. I got the bride to bed. You were in charge of the groom.”
“I know. He’ll be fine. Plenty of time to sleep it off.”
We stood there on the stairs. Her a few steps below me, looking up. Me frozen in place, trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts.
“You look beautiful,” I said.
Her cheeks got pinker. “You look pretty good yourself, Lurch.”
I suddenly realized I liked her calling me Lurch. What did that say about me? Why did I like her insulting me?
Because it wasn’t an insult. Just like Cyclone Cleo wasn’t a real insult. It was a term of endearment.
“Good night with the girls?” I asked.
“The best. We solved all the world’s problems and planned Melody’s entire future.” She climbed up a step. “How about you? Get Austin sufficiently drunk and panicked?”
“He’s passed out in his room talking about how perfect his life is.”
“Sounds about right.” She was one step below me now. “Think he’ll be okay tomorrow?”
“Austin will be fine,” I said. “He’s too excited to let a hangover stop him.”
“Good.” She took another step up. We were at eye level now. Well, I still towered over her petite frame but close enough. “He really loves her. Your brother.”
“He does.”
“It’s nice. Seeing that kind of love.” Her voice got quieter. “Makes you believe it’s possible, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
We looked at each other. The space between us was charged with longing and words unsaid.
“Cleo,” I started.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say something you’ll regret in the morning.” She smiled, but it was sad. “We’re both a little drunk. It’s late. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“I won’t regret it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I took a step closer. “I’ve been regretting a lot of things. Things I didn’t say. Things I didn’t do. But this?” I looked at her. “I won’t regret this.”
“Cash—”
I kissed her. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop myself.
She gasped against my mouth. Went still for half a second. Then she kissed me back.
Her wine glass hit the stairs with a soft thunk. Her hands came up to my face, fingers threading through my hair, and she kissed me like she’d been waiting for this too. Like the weeks apart had been just as hard for her.
I backed her against the wall. Her shoes clattered to the floor. My hands found her waist, her back, the bare skin of her shoulder where her dress had slipped. She moaned and pulled me closer.
Her lips were exactly as I remembered. Soft, warm, tasting faintly of wine.
The kiss deepened, growing more urgent with each passing second.
I couldn’t get enough of her. My hands slid into her hair, cradling her head as I pressed her against the wall.
Her soft body against mine filled all the empty spaces I’d been carrying for weeks.
“I missed this,” I whispered against her mouth. “I missed you.”
She bit my lower lip in response, a gentle tug that sent heat rushing through my entire body. I groaned and lifted her, hands gripping her thighs as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The wall supported her back while I supported the rest of her. So perfect in my arms.
Her head fell back as my lips traveled down her neck. I tasted the salt of her skin, felt her pulse racing beneath my mouth. Her fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me, wanting more.
I couldn’t think straight. The whiskey in my system, the scent of her perfume, and the feel of her body against mine overwhelmed me in the best possible way.
Every doubt I’d been carrying dissolved the moment her lips touched mine.
This wasn’t Rome. This wasn’t a fantasy or an escape. This was real.
“There are people everywhere,” she whispered. “Someone could see.”
“Let them,” I said, surprising myself with how little I cared.
Her eyes widened, reflecting something that looked like wonder. “Who are you and what have you done with Cash?”
I smiled, pressing my forehead against hers. “I’m still figuring that out.”