Page 39 of Signed With Love

Rylee and I keep passing a phone between one another. Her messages started simple and fun, but they’ve begun to take a more difficult twist.

She pulls away from her stylist, a petite woman with gorgeous braids and bronze skin, to pass the phone back.

I don’t know Lizzy well, but you know how towns like this can be. Everyone talks about everyone. Apparently, it all happened right after Jamison’s mom died. Lizzy couldn’t handle the way Jamison became after he returned from finding her, so she sought comfort elsewhere…the arms of his mom’s widowed husband. Who does that? But Thorne is our boss, and seriously the entire town’s going to be at this wedding. Jamison is expected to be there, and we weren’t about to let him go alone.

I am looking less and less forward to this wedding the more I discover. But she’s right; we aren’t going to let him confront this situation alone. That’s what friends do for each other.

I need to be prepared. Does Jamison still care for this woman?

The phone slips from my hand and into hers. I should have spoken to Jamison about the thing I’m most worried about. After the rescue, the hospital, a night of being lost in one another, then our hasty morning escape, I never found a chance.

And we are always open with our conversations, so I know I’m avoiding finding out if he was in love once, perhaps still in love. And I’m falling for him, but I know it’s not a smart or logical thing to do. That search and rescue nearly broke me, and the risk of losing him is a possibility with his line of work. I can’t lose someone I love again.

Once Rylee hands the phone back, I let some of the other pent-up worries go.

Maybe once. But I don’t think he does now. Too much resentment.

The stylist pins my hair and steps back. It’s gorgeous. My blonde hair is in a loose wave, half up, half down, and pinned firmly. I want to run my fingers through it, which I’ll have to avoid all night. My makeup is flawless and natural, just like Maddie would have done.

When I catch my stylist’s gaze in the mirror, she’s biting her lip. I haven’t given her any sign I like it, so I give her two thumbs up with a smile. Her body visibly relaxes, the uncertainty washing away.

There are three small taps on my shoulder. I glance over to Rylee. She has the biggest smile. She gives me two more thumbs up.

After that, it doesn’t take us long to finish up and change. The salon was welcoming and offered us a small side room to switch into our dresses. Rylee seems open and well known here. She must come all the time to give herself a break, or maybe it’s just easy for her to talk with people. Her job is just as demanding as Jamison’s, so I’m sure she needs the break and should come to the salon all the time.

I work to slip my dress on as I consider what bravery it must take to put yourself last in a moment of fear. To forge through the fear and make quick decisions based on instinct. To leap before you think, like she does. To be the search and rescue that braves all odds to save someone.

My shoes are last to go on, then I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror on the back door of the room. It’s a massage room that they thoughtfully give away to make sure you are prepared to face the world after you’ve given yourself a moment of reprieve. I’m thankful for it.

The dress I chose is a simple light blue fitted bodice with cropped sleeves. It goes down to mid-thigh, and it took me hours of shopping with Andrea before I left Anchorage to be sure I had the right one. It was the first time we hung out outside of work, yet she was still there for me. Sliding my hands down the soft material, I decide I can do this. Jamison needs everyone in his corner this weekend. And I want to be in his corner. I press the anxiety down.

Rylee is waiting outside the room by the time I gather myself enough to step out. She’s still smiling. It hasn’t left her face the entire time. I can’t take the curiosity much longer, so I pull my phone out and type her a quick message.

You seem really excited. I know you said you guys are going for Jamison, but you don’t seem the least bit inconvenienced.

Her body shakes and she looks shy, a pink tint hitting her cheeks. It takes her a few moments to formulate a response. When she hands my phone back, she glances away.

It’s been a while since I've been out. And with work and always being stuck around the same guys, I don’t get out much to meet anyone new.

Oh, maybe she’s hoping to hook up with someone tonight. I contemplate my next question, but I type it out anyway.

So, you aren’t interested in any of the guys you work with?

By the time I finish typing, she already has her hand out, ready to take the phone back. I let her type while I glance around the salon again. Although it’s small, it’s quaint and relaxing. They have aromas of peppermint and something else I can’t quite identify filling the space. It’s peaceful, relaxing. Even now as I absorb the aroma with a deep breath, it helps ease the nerves spreading.

Rylee reluctantly hands the phone back. It takes an extra pull to get it from her grasp.

I can’t do anything serious or messy. And he’s all kinds of fucked up after his wife left with their kid, so I doubt he’s looking for something simple with me. I know he’s still in love with her, and that isn’t changing anytime soon. So no.

I jerk my head up. Wait. I glance back at my phone, but my fingers don’t move. By the time I glance back up, Rylee is walking away, which is fine because I didn’t have a response anyway. I follow Rylee until we reach the front door. Just as we do, Chadwick comes in, followed by Jamison and Finn, our escorts for the night.

Chadwick’s eyes are glued to Rylee and he’s speaking, but his head is turned toward her, so I have no chance of making out his words. Finn is glued to his phone again. He always is. So, my gaze travels to Jamison, where they stay.

Once we make eye contact, he finds his words. You’re gorgeous.

He places his hand on my neck and kisses me like he won’t tomorrow, and I let him, the lipstick forgotten. He breaks away a moment later. My brows wrinkle in confusion when he shoots me a wan smile.

I was told not to mess you up.

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