Page 202 of Love in Riverbend
Since Mom and Dad sold our land to the Sheers, farming is no longer my livelihood; it’s my hobby. I’m a semester into my bachelor’s studies at Indiana University in Bloomington, majoring in economics and finance. With my associate’s degree as a starting point, I’m over a decade older than many of my classmates, but I don’t care. In two more years, I’ll have my degree. Now that I’m knee-deep in classes, reading, and homework, I know this is the path I’ve always wanted.
As the guests make their way to the reception, the wedding party is herded back into the chapel for photographs. The photographer barks out orders, telling us where to stand.
“Ladies, place your hand on the shoulder of your partner. Devan and Justin, you’re in the middle.”
Craning my neck, I smirk toward Marilyn. “You can touch me. I won’t bite.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” she says without a grin. “I may.”
“Oh, interesting. I could be persuaded.”
“Shut up and look at the camera.”
Nearly an hour later, we pile into the back of a long limousine. Marilyn quickly sits at Devan’s side and pulls Jill into her other side, leaving me sitting between Justin and Dax. Molly sits next to her dad.
The MC at the reception announces Molly first. Dax and Jill are the next to enter, hand in hand, Jill holding her bouquet high. I offer my hand to Marilyn, who looks away, pastes a smile on her lips, and walks at my side. The room cheers. The accolades grow louder as Devan and Justin enter to a chant of “Kiss, kiss.”
“Too bad they didn’t yell that for us,” I say to Marilyn.
“That’s not happening.”
I’m not sure what makes me continue to tease—maybe it isn’t teasing. I see her pouty lips and feel the fire beneath her soft skin. Marilyn has grown up since our one time together, and there is part of me that wants to investigate the woman she’s become. It’s the part of me that reacts to her smart comebacks. It’s the part of me that literally screwed up five years ago.
Telling my body to forget this fiery brunette with the mesmerizing blue eyes is like telling my lips I no longer like ice cream.
That’s it. I’m on a lactose-free diet.
Before the dinner, I stand and give my speech. The guests laugh as I give Justin the hundredth warning to take care of my little sister. Marilyn’s speech is next, recounting Devan’s and her friendship over the years. When she mentions their young childhood, I can’t for the life of me remember Devan, Jill, or especially Marilyn as children.
Hell no.
When I wasn’t looking and when I was, the three of them grew up.
My sister is no longer a kid. And without a doubt, Marilyn is definitely a woman.
Later that night, during the wedding party dance, I take Marilyn’s hand and place my other one on her hip. The material of her dress is soft and shiny beneath my touch. “I’m living in Bloomington now.”
Marilyn’s blue eyes come in my direction and narrow, yet she doesn’t respond.
“You’re there, right?” I ask.
“I was. I’m doing my internship in Indianapolis.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Internship, with who?”
“Parker and Stevens.”
“No shit?” I say, genuinely impressed. “They’re one of the top wealth management firms in the country.”
Marilyn’s shoulders straighten. “You’ve heard of them?”
“As part of an assignment, I did research on different financial institutions in the state and beyond. Parker and Stevens was ranked highest for assets under management, individual client count, and clients per adviser.”
Her cheeks rise as she grins. “They’ve also been in business for over seventy-five years.”
“Maybe one day you can put in a good word for me.”
Marilyn tilts her head. “Why would I do that?”
