Page 41 of Signed With Love

We continue to communicate, her only signing and me signing, then speaking to clarify the signs when needed. Her fingerspelling is steady, but she messes up when trying to spell “nails.”

“I love doing my nails.” Well, I did when Maddie would do them. We’d sit together and drink some wine. Decompress after she had a long day at work. My kids were always easier on me than her patients were.

Rylee and I continue back and forth until the car stops outside a small bed-and-breakfast called the Bittersweet Inn. Jamison tangles his fingers in mine and squeezes. He helps me out of the car, but he never disconnects us. He’s using me as his support; I’m his rope as he glides across an unknown frozen lake.

I won’t snap tonight. I’ll be steady and sure so he can use me as his lifeline. I’ve never felt so much pressure before.

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.

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