Tavish bristled. Knowing he was genetically incapable of sticking around Sutter Creek for any length of time was one thing. Having his best friend confirm it was another. “No, man, I think it would work. I’ll leave Monday to hang out with the polar bears, then come back for your wedding, hit on the bridesmaids—”
“Hey! My sisters are the bridesmaids.”
“Right. Sorry. Scratch that. Still, I’ll pitch in here and be gone the minute you’re back.”
Drew didn’t need to worry about his sisters’ honor when it came to Tavish. Given Tavish’s relationship with Lauren, he’d never seen Cadence, the baby of the family, as eligible. And Lauren? Well, tried and failed there.
Seeing her today had made his brain spin, a clicking whir not unlike the ancient slide projector of his grandmother’s that he credited with getting him hooked on photography. Except instead of pictures of his mother being schlepped across the country in her family’s old woody station wagon, the images that flashed across his brain starred Lauren’s creamy skin against white hotel sheets and the lights of the Las Vegas Strip glinting off the gold band on her left hand. A gold band Drew knew nothing about. Tavish had promised to keep that secret, even though hiding something so monumental from his best friend made him feel like a pile of bear crap.
And when he’d promised secrecy to Lauren, he’d also made a promise to himself—that he’d stop thinking about his ring on that gorgeous hand that somehow knew just the right way to grip him.
More than that—she had a total grip on his heart.
Helping out Mackenzie and Drew ran the risk of having to fight those thoughts from surfacing daily. Hourly. But what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t facilitate a final kid-free trip for his sister?
“I can’t let Mackenzie give up her honeymoon. She’s already had to compromise by rushing the wedding. Thanks to your not having paid attention during tenth-grade sex-ed,” Tavish added lightly.
A crumpled-paper ball bounced off his head.
“Asshole. But you’re serious about filling in, aren’t you?” Drew asked.
He nodded, curving up one side of his mouth in his own disbelief. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to help Mackenzie.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve been willing to help her, you mean.”
Ouch. The accusation reverberated in his chest. He rubbed at the resulting ache. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”
Drew blew out a breath. “Add on the few days you’d be here before the wedding and you’d have to be in town for over two weeks. You sure about that?”
Tavish picked up a hunk of shale that served as a paperweight and passed it back and forth between his hands. “Thanks for the math lesson, but I know what I’m offering.”
“Do you still have your EMT cert?”
“Yeah. I’m not stupid enough to enter war zones without knowing what to do in an emergency,” he said. “Warning—this offer will self-destruct in five seconds unless you accept it.”
Drew tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. “Okay, then. I’ll fill Lauren in on the plan tomorrow. She’ll be relieved, to say the least.”
Every cell in Tavish’s body froze. “Huh?”
“Well, you’ll be replacing Zach, but Lauren’s replacing me. Looking forward to it, or so she says. So you’ll be helping her out.”
Clenching his fist around the rock, he resisted the impulse to hurl it through the glass pane of the hallway door. Working with Lauren would kill him. She’d consider his involvement the antithesis of help. And he couldn’t back out of the commitment now. If he did, Drew would ask questions.
Lauren’s inevitable freak-out when her brother informed her would also result in raised eyebrows. Better to avoid any possibility of suspicion. “She and I should start communicating about how I’m going to best support her while you’re gone, so let me tell her.”
Drew shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just happy that Mackenzie doesn’t have to go on our honeymoon without me.” His smile turned wicked. “Two weeks of being alone.”
“Dude. Sister.”
“Dude,” his friend mocked. “You have to know what you’re facilitating.”
“I know you have to shut up about it.”
Mackenzie better enjoy her holiday. Because by making the most important woman in his life happy, he’d be making the woman who should have owned that title miserable.
Lauren woke up on Saturday morning and reveled in not having set an alarm. Clear sky glowed blue through the skylights in her loft bedroom, promising a cloudless morning. And she planned to enjoy her three days of freedom. Freedom from blood, freedom from needles. She wasn’t free from her contract, but at least with the financial glitches she could drag her heels a little longer before signing in triplicate. And her 10:00 a.m. date to help Mackenzie make chair decorations and centerpieces all but guaranteed she’d be able to steer clear of Tavish. No way tulle pew bows and glass vase arrangements would capture his interest. He barely stayed still long enough to snap pictures on the ultra-fancy camera habitually slung on his shoulder.
He was happy enough to be still when we were snuggling in bed together.
Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, she shot out from the covers. Her plush featherbed and Egyptian cotton sheets felt way too much like the bed they’d shared during their honeymoon in Las Vegas. She needed to clear her Tavish-and-work-filled brain with some fresh air before she headed into town to meet Mackenzie. Throwing on a sports bra, thin jacket and cropped leggings, she jogged downstairs.
Wanting her space to reflect the outdoors, she’d decorated the spacious, cathedral-ceilinged main floor in soft moss and earth tones to complement the green visible through the expansive panes of glass at the front and rear.
She loved it.
Never wanted to leave.
Her gaze landed on the thick manila folder on her reclaimed-barnwood dining table. Damn. Usually never wanted to leave. But the house was full of specters this morning. She’d fled the enchanting reminders of nights tangled in Tavish, only to run headlong into her work anxiety. She needed to get away from that contract before it sprouted legs and chased her around the butcher-block island.
Yoga on the dock. Yes. An excuse to leave the house without feeling like a total chicken.
Crisp forest air pricked her sinuses as she opened the glass French doors and toted her yoga mat down the stairs to the long wooden raft. The sun had risen far enough above the lush pines on the opposite bank to lend a hint of warmth to the light breeze. She sat cross-legged on her mat and stared at the ripples marring the surface of the water.
Living out on Moosehorn Lake, a twenty-minute drive from the town center, gave her enough distance not to feel truly pathetic about the double knots keeping her tied to home. She was close enough to take care of her dad and her sister, and to help Mackenzie and Andrew once the baby arrived, but far enough away she wasn’t living in their pockets.
She was independent. Owned a stunning, green-roofed log house on a pristine chunk of waterfront. Had a meaningful job that connected her to her mom. So what if she chose to be a homebody, to put her family first? Just because her chosen lifestyle was the polar opposite of Tavish’s didn’t make it any less valid.
Though it does mean we shouldn’t have exchanged rings...
And shouldn’t have made promises neither of them was capable of keeping.
She