Chapter Twenty
Jamison
This is the last place I want to be. I know the town’s been talking about me, and they’re all going to be at this wedding today. Lizzy’s dad is the mayor, and Thorne is just as important to our small town. Everyone else will be here to see the drama unfold. They’re itching for it.
Everyone is assuming I’m still as pissed as I was four years ago. They believe it’s simmering beneath the surface. When I was younger, I was hotheaded, and if you got a few whiskeys into me, I’d go off. The shit I’d see during rescues didn’t help. Tangle that with how I found Mom, then discovered Lizzy comforting Thorne. Nothing prepares you to come home and find your girl on her knees with another man.
Then I met Billy and Gloria, and they reminded me so much of how life was before the bullshit. Gloria was like Mom, a vivid declaration that not all people are fucking worthless. And Billy shares the same passion and commitment to life as Mom did. Then Claire started coming around. She showed me a fucking light at the end of a really dark path. She gave me another purpose. It started with spending late nights staring at my hands making crude signs instead of an empty whiskey tumbler. It moved on to me spending those same late nights with a pen and paper or texting her. Getting to know her better than I knew myself.
There’s a tug on my hand that pulls me to a stop before I can ascend the stairs.
Do you love her? Claire asks.
She’s worried about that? Even though I shouldn’t have continued to pursue Claire when it became more than friendship, I thought I made myself really fucking clear. I’m falling head over heels for this girl.
No. To prove my point, I capture her mouth. This woman. She’s everything I don’t deserve. Does that stop me? No. I kiss her with the sole purpose of letting her know she’s mine. There isn’t a piece of me she shares with another woman.
A throat clears behind me. I let Claire go but lace our fingers together.
“Hey, Jamison. We weren’t sure if you’d make it.”
I don’t want to turn around and acknowledge who has joined us. When I watch Claire, she gives me the desire to be a better man. She’s everything good and perfect in the world. Despite my strong desire to stay facing her, I turn and give Lizzy’s brother, Nick, a small nod. There, I said hi and he can fuck off now. I tighten my hold around Claire’s hand and ascend the stairs without another glance his way.
The Bittersweet Inn must be alluring to Lizzy. I think it’s dated and old with the lace decor. There’s a musky scent of mothballs and mildew lingering. I bet they haven’t cleaned those rugs in years. And those flowers are awful. A mixed arrangement of scents that don’t match. The scent is unappealing.
I pause when Claire tugs hard on my hand, then untangles so she can sign, You look disgusted.
She isn’t wrong. My lip is curled up. Why would anyone choose this when there’s so much beauty outside? I just don’t get it. But maybe I never got Lizzy either.
Why wouldn’t she have the wedding outside where it’s so much more beautiful? Claire asks. Her brow lifts, and humor plays on the tilt of her lip.
The snarl vanishes from my face and gives way to a smirk. I was thinking the same thing.
“I didn’t think you’d be here. You aren’t going to start any shit, right?” That would be Lizzy’s father, Mack. And just like that, my sour mood is back. If I could block out the world and make Claire the center, I’d be a satisfied man.
I turn around to expose Claire to his view. Claire extends her hand, and so does the mayor. I sign to her that he’s Lizzy’s father.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Claire’s voice is not firm, yet it’s resounding for me to hear. Her strength is a powerful thing for me. It’s her breaking down all those walls she had erected. I never thought I needed someone so much in my life as I’m now certain I need her.
“You’re Billy and Gloria Taylor’s daughter?” The mayor is an older man, late sixties, with graying hair and receding hairline. Actually, with Thorne stepping up beside him, they look similar. Fucking weird shit.
“Yes, sir. Claire Taylor. It’s a pleasure,” Claire responds to the mayor, then angles toward Thorne. “Hello. Congratulations.”
Claire places a hand on my chest and pushes us farther into the room. I haven’t said a word. I prefer it that way. These people are looking for something from me, and to be honest, I don’t have the fucks to give them right now.
Want a beer? Claire asks once we reach the bar. Thank God Alaskans know to keep the bar open even this early. My girl also knows me. We share a look, and she knows it’s a yes, because she waves the bartender over. She raises two fingers, then points to the draft beer on tap.
I keep myself close to Claire. I wear her like a shield. She reminds me this world isn”t entirely full of awful people. My gaze stays on the way her blonde hair curls around her shoulder and lands just above her breast.
“That’s seven fifty.” The bartender’s gruff voice pulls my attention. He’s as done with this shindig as I am. Thing is with Alaskan weddings, the drinking will start early and the party will go late. With late fall and winter months keeping everyone inside, the residents of Casper are here for some fun before the snow sets in.
Before I can pull my wallet, Claire places a twenty down. I playfully pinch her side and give her a look. I had this, but she doesn’t care about my gentlemanly ways. Her return expression dares me to argue. And there’s the smile back. Playing this with her feeds that bitter soul I’ve come to acquire.
“Hey.” Finn slams a hand on my shoulder as Claire finishes paying. “The countdown begins. Already done with this shit. I hate weddings.”
I just nod as I accept my drink from Claire. She raises her glass toward Finn as Chadwick and Rylee join us. I realize just how much I need these people as the reception music starts. I watch the reminder that I failed my mother as her husband walks into the reception with his new wife.
Thorne catches my eye for a moment, and I’m thankful I skipped the ceremony itself. There’s that everyday resentment that he has that reflects back to me although he wears a happy smile for his new wife. Well, it wasn’t supposed to be my mother on that flight. But like always, she cleaned up my shit for me when I got drunk and partied too hard the night before.
It should have been me, not her, in flight that day. I remember that fact every time I look in the mirror. The music changes to the next song, and the party takes off. I tilt my beer back and drink.
◆◆◆
I’m done. The tension builds in my blood the longer we go through the motions of this wedding reception. Throughout the cake cutting and the toasts, time stretches out as I recall each of these moments that should have ended with my mother.
The beer bottle hits the table with a rattle echoing off the wood. All evening I’ve handled the looks from the residents of Casper. Their whispers are making my head hurt. That, or it could be the third beer I’m on.
Claire’s hand tugs on mine and draws my attention.
We can go? she signs.
I nod in response and rise from the table. The escape is near as we walk from the reception area. Of course, I don’t make it far before Lizzy’s brother, Nick, cuts us off at the door. That tension coursing through me comes into focus as I tighten my fist.
“Leaving already?” His voice is slurred, the drink in his hand not the first of the evening. “How’s it watching your girl marry your stepdad?” He glances over my shoulder. “And you brought your new girl to watch it too? You’re a fucking mess, dude. Couldn’t save your job, your relationship…” He pauses to take a drink, and I wait. Say it. I fucking dare you. “Or your mom.”
That’s when my arm flies out and connects with his jaw. The crunching sound resonates throughout the room as everyone focuses on his face. The beer bottle shatters against the floor as voices rise behind me.
I draw back and swing again. Hands land on my arm to stop the next swing. Voices close in, but I don’t stop as the blood that boils beneath my skin has me launching forward again. Red covers the floor when he spits to the side.
“Jamison, stop.” My body deflates as the delicate words coming from Claire finally break through the wave of anger crashing over me. I let whoever is pulling me off the piece of shit on the floor win. To increase my torture at how her voice sounded, I turn to look at Claire. Her brows are scrunched, and the pity so obvious. I never wanted her to see me like this.
“I thought you’d keep your shit together.” I glance over my shoulder and see Hollis, a state trooper. There’s nothing to say as he directs me outside.