Page 113 of Always a Bridesmaid
“Hey! It’s our local hero!” Noah, the bartender who occasionally joined them for pickup games, chose theworst time everto pass by and clap Ford on the back.
Ford spun on his stool, opening his mouth to ask for a few minutes of privacy.
“Future generations will be telling the tale of how you, Easton, Darius, and sixty-year-old Mrs. Reynolds saved Mr. Garcia from a flat tire one mile from the tire shop.”
“You never mentioned anything about a….” An oddly calm mask descended upon Violet’s features, and, judging from the static electricity that buzzed through Ford, the storm was on its way. “What day was that?”
Ford raised his voice, desperate to stop a disaster already in motion. “Listen, Vi—”
“Thursday evening,” Noah said. “People have been making ‘how many people does it take to change one tire’ jokes ever since.” He added a snort. “Anyway, this is some party, huh, Ford? I’m glad you showed and relieved me of being the only dude here.”
The murderous glare that’d filtered in with Violet’s forming tears suggested that soon enough, Noah would be the only male once again.
“Can you excuse us for a minute?” Ford asked, although what he wanted to do was bark at Noah to leave, rewind time, and do the opposite of everything he’d done since taking that emergency call that ended up being anything but.
“You…” Violet struggled to swallow, and darkness crept through him, robbing him of every ounce of happiness he’d ever felt. “Did you know when you took the emergency call that other people would be there?”
Ford opened his mouth, came up with a whole lot of nothing, and hung his head.
More tears filled her eyes, one blink away from overflowing. “I told you that I needed you. I faced my dad and Cheryl alone. And while it went better than expected, that’s not the point. You promised me you’d do what you say. That you’d be there for me. I told you it was the one thing I needed, and it didn’t matter.”
Violet tipped back her drink, a strangled choking sound coming out as she slammed the glass down on the bar. “I’m not the one who keeps bringing up marriage—you’re in a fucking wedding. If you’ll remember, I told you I’d given up weddings and men. You asked for my help being a good bridesmaid, and what’s worse is you led me to believe you were different from the rest.
“And hello, people talk about kids—I suppose I do, too, since I have an adorable niece, who I love to pieces. Those areyourissues, not mine.”
“Oh, so youdon’twant to get married?” His voice came out louder than he’d meant for it to, and he readjusted the volume. “You’re telling me that binder you carry around isn’t filled with the dream wedding you can’t wait to throw?”
Her hand clutched her chest as her shoulders curled in on themselves, but his tongue was still off and running.
“And you wanna talk about issues? Like how you were arrested for beating the shit out of your ex’s car? Something you failed to mention, by the way.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, and salt water spilled streams onto her cheeks. In spite of everything, Ford had the strongest urge to use his thumb to wipe her tears away.
“Silly me, not confessing one of the most embarrassing experiences of my entire life up-front.” Violet sniffed. “My ex cheated on me, and yeah, I got super drunk and made a bad decision. Not only do I regret it, but it’s in the past, so I don’t see how it’s relevant to you and me.”
“Sure, until I piss you off and you take a bat tomytruck. I saw the warning signs that you were unstable and obsessed with getting hitched, and that’s on me for ignoring them.”
Violet nodded over and over. “And I saw the signs you were a player. Heard all about how you weren’t the settling-down type. How stupid am I for falling under your spell anyway? For thinking that with me, you’d be different.”
Dammit. The reality of the situation caught up to him and his big mouth. His heart and lungs turned into shriveled organs that might never work again. Heaviness pressed against his chest with an ache he’d never experienced before.
This wasn’t what he wanted.
“Look,” he said, backtracking as quickly as possible. “This conversation’s getting out of control, and that’s not what I meant to happen. The last thing I wanted was for us to tear each other apart. I just thought we should pump the brakes. Slow things down.” He grabbed her hand and curled it into his. “Maybe someday—”
She jerked free of his grasp, and as frustrated as he was, he immediately missed having her hand in his. “Let me guess. You want to stick to being sex buddies. Perhaps go on a date now and then, and maybe someday, you’ll magically be ready to get serious.”
Ford blinked. The woman had taken the words right out of his mouth, save themagically. “What’s so bad about that? I mean, I wanna be more than sex buddies. It’s about preserving my freedom, not about dating other women. I just thought we could keep on doing what we’ve been doing and get to know each other. Take it a step at a time.”
A terrifying, mirthless laugh spilled from her lips. “You guys are all the same. I might’ve fallen for that once, but I’ve already been with a someday guy. Thank goodness I don’t move as fast as you accuse me of, or I would’ve planned another dream wedding to a total asshole.”
Violet scooted the stool away from the bar so violently, it tipped over, the clatter drawing the attention of everyone in the near vicinity. “This time, I choose me.”
The disappointment and hurt that flooded her expression unleashed a swell of vitriol within his chest. A different sort of panic—one he didn’t totally understand—dug claws into what remained of his lungs.
“Goodbye, Ford McGuire.” Violet tossed the napkin crumpled in her fist on top of the bar. Theyay! same penis forever!seemed to taunt him. “Thanks for reminding me why I gave up men in the first place.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
