Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
FERN
I spend the rest of the wedding making sure that everything runs smoothly. The wedding caterer disappeared. My guess is that she fell for the nonsense of either Heath or Huxley because both vanished.
If Cas hadn’t left for the airport, he would be my number one suspect.
It’s not that I’m a prude but I need the servers to pass around the cake.
And for her to make sure the guests are fed and taken care of, not for her to take care of my horny brothers.
They could’ve waited until the party was over.
Then again, knowing them, they’re going to leave after they’re done with her.
Like many men, they only hook up. I’m raging, but I don’t say anything. I explain to the servers what I need and get to work. I’m so busy by the guest house, organizing the few presents that the guests brought with them that I don’t notice when Elliot appears next to me.
“Let’s dance.”
Is he for real? I almost snort. As if I can dance around him. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think my feet are going to work. One of my biggest problems with Elliot McPhee is that when he’s around, I can’t think straight, or move, or… sometimes I forget how to breathe.
Even though I’ve been doing that for thirty-two years, it seems as if the knowledge is gone. I know the steps.It’s pretty easy. You inhale and then exhale. Right now, I can’t think of how to do either one of them.
“Fern?” He gives me an inquisitive look. “Are you okay?”
I stare at him, speechless.
See, no words come out of my mind, I mean mouth. Oh God, even my brain is tongue twisted.
Think of an excuse not to dance. Any excuse, Fern.
I will just as soon as my heart stops beating erratically.
If only Cory was around to save me.
As if she would do anything like that. She wouldn’t. My sister would probably say something like, she’d be delighted, or it’ll be her pleasure in a very provocative voice.
Traitor.
Poor Cory, I’m snapping at her and she’s not even around.
Okay, think of something smart to say. It’s not that hard, Fern.
“I have to?—”
“Take a break,” he interrupts me. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Yes, but then who’s going to make sure that everything is?—”
“If I didn’t know better,” he interrupts me again. “I’d think you’re the wedding planner. Where is she?”
“Technically, I am her. She’s me.” I should stop talking. I sound like a teenager in front of her first crush. Since I’m a grown woman, I sound more like a complete idiot. At least when I’m in the office, I function better.
“I thought they hired someone,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me toward the dance floor.
This is going to be an uncoordinated disaster. Worse than the only dance recital I attended at the tender age of five when I tripped over my own feet and fell down while pushing over all the trees on the stage, destroying them. After that, I refused to go back to ballet.
“You can relax,” he whispers, making me shiver. “It’s almost over.”
But it’s not, because while he thinks I’m tense about the wedding, this is all because of him. I have never been affected by a man the way I am by him.
I don’t know what it is about Elliot McPhee that ties me up into knots.
Sometimes I find comfort in the arms of a stranger that has made himself a part of our family.
It’s a contradicting thought. As someone who can almost say he’s a Spearman, we barely know anything about him.
Yet, I like when he’s around, except when I can hardly breathe or think because I want to learn more about him.
I don’t mean about his past but his body. More about his lips, his hands, his voice telling me naughty things while we make love. His mouth kissing mine desperately and… stop what you’re doing!
It’s almost impossible. Those thoughts are frightening and growing stronger. And how am I supposed to relax in his arms when the only thing I want is for him to kiss me senseless.
Still, in the midst of an internal fight where I don’t know how to behave and what to do, I sway in his arms, letting him lead. If there’s anything I can do right, it’s adapt to the conditions. As long as he doesn’t let me go, I think I can finish this dance without embarrassing myself.
“You know, for a last-minute celebration, you did great,” he says, interrupting my struggle.
“My youngest sister got married three years after her fiancé proposed to her—because she had a lot of planning to do. Weddings are stressful, and I don’t think you can get it right no matter what you do. You know what the sad part is?”
I shake my head because I don’t think I can say anything that’s different from the words kiss me .
“One in every two marriages ends up in divorce,” he continues.
Okay, that gives me some courage to speak. “It sounds like you know your statistics from experience. Bad divorce?”
Two sentences. I should get a gold star. That, and my magnificent acting as I pretend that I don’t know much about his life, which I really don’t know much about other than the things Lysander tells me while we ponder Elliot’s past.
It’s pretty entertaining to spend hours wondering if he worked for the CIA and his wife got tired of waiting for him to come home. She left him for the pool boy. Lysander insists that she ran away with the handyman. Ironic since Elliot knows how to use his tools.
I hide the grin as I wonder how good he is during sex. Would he make me come at least once? Okay, I have to stop thinking about sex or I’m going to hump him in front of the guests.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound bitter,” he apologizes. “The McPhees aren’t known to have great marriages. There were two divorces. Only two of my sisters are still married.”
“Let me guess, you’re one of the divorcés?”
“What gave me away?”
I shrug because telling him that Lysander tells me everything will be like giving my brothers away. “So, how long were you married?”
“A month, five years, a lifetime? It all depends on how you see it.”
This isn’t going to answer my questions. “That’s a strange timeline. Were you young? Did you love her? Do you miss her?”
He nods, and I’m unsure which question is a yes, until he says, “I thought she was my soulmate until I lost her forever.”
“She left you for another guy?”
He shakes his head. “It’s complicated and depressing. Hazel was perfect, though. I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like her. Not that I’ll ever look.”
The nostalgia in his voice makes me believe that after all this time, he’s still in love with her.
This Hazel woman got ahold of his heart.
I think it would be sweet if it wasn’t so sad.
There are many things I don’t know about Elliot McPhee, and I want him to tell me everything. How can this woman just leave him?
He’s perfect. He dedicates his time to helping others and his family.
Did Hazel leave him because he couldn’t keep a job? I’m curious to learn why a man who seems loving, caring, and hardworking lost his soulmate.
“Nobody is perfect,” I break the silence.
“I guess it’s the teenage boy who was madly in love with her speaking. I wouldn’t know who she is anymore.”
“Wow, a teenager. I can’t imagine loving anyone like that, ever.”
At that age, I wasn’t thinking about boys. I look around. Back then, I was concerned about the vineyard that was burnt to a crisp, my mother who was devastated about the death of my father, and my family, which was falling apart.
And that’s exactly why I prefer to be alone.
I don’t need to justify myself to anyone.
Not many guys understand why I drop everything for my family—more so, my mother.
No one can ever understand the pain I went through when Dad died.
The guy who I thought I loved took advantage of me when I was struggling to keep myself above water.
Every man I’ve met after that either wants me for my money or rejects me because of it.
Though, it would’ve been nice to experience love at least once before I realized that it’s never going to happen to me.
“Who broke your heart, Fern?”
“Life, destiny…” I shrug. “After Dad died, I stopped having crushes and focused on ensuring we survived.”
Elliot is the first man who makes me believe that maybe there can be something more. But I know better, it’s just an illusion. Lust is like LSD, ecstasy, or cocaine. It causes hallucinations so powerful, the person experiencing them thinks they’re real.
He nods, pulling me closer to him. I’m not sure if he’s trying to console me or if he feels my pain because he’s been through something similar.
My brothers probably told him about our father and mother and everything my family has gone through since. He’s close to Gatz, Lysander, and Aslan. He gets more invitations to the roof than I do.
I’m resting my head on his chest, feeling closer to him. Tonight, the sense of hopelessness isn’t choking me. One day, when I’m older and wiser, I’ll remember him, this dance, and maybe I’ll understand what it was about him that made me feel safe.
I don’t know how long I spend in his arms, or how many songs are played, but when Cory whistles the way she does at her bar, I know it’s over.
“Last call!” she yells.
“Oh God, you’d think she was raised by wolves.” I stop, moving away from his embrace and praying that I don’t lose my balance.
Elliot arches an eyebrow. “Your brothers?”
I nod. “Yep. Those six don’t really care. They’re the epitome of I don’t give a fuck. If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
He grins. “See you around, Fern.”