Page 19 of Deception & Daylight
If you had asked me back in October if I thought I’d be getting ready to stand beside my best friend as she marries the love of her life in a surprise wedding, I would’ve asked you what kind of shit you were smoking and where I can get some. But here I am, preparing for a flight to Kentucky as I try to forget the last time I landed in Nashville under very different circumstances.
In an effort to protect my peace, I blocked out everything about that trip except for the awkward family dinner my dad spent an exorbitant amount of money having catered on Christmas Day, and the sudden inspiration that sparked what is likely to become my debut novel. At least something good came out of my humiliation.
On the way to the gate, I make a quick stop at the Tim Horton’s for a double double and an everything bagel, then sink into one of the leather chairs in the lounge — perks of being a nepo baby, I guess. Dad’s high profile status gets me the VIP treatment whenever I fly. It’s one of the few advantages of being a Watson. But wealth and privilege will never make up for the general lack of affection that encapsulated my youth.
As I’m staring out the window, watching travelers rushing to their gates, my phone chimes with a text notification.
Cade: Thanks for doing this, Mags. Liam is on his way to meet you. Have a safe flight.
Mags: You know I’d do anything for my girl, but if you fuck this up, I’ll go all Earl on your ass with no remorse.
Cade: I’d gladly provide the shovel. See you soon.
Having watched my best friend’s whirlwind romance with the small-town bartender, I’ve come to know him well, and I can say with utter certainty he’s a good man — his choice of best friends notwithstanding. Miles Barlow can choke on a bag of dicks.
The flight to Nashville is uneventful — if you don’t account for the three shots of tequila and two mini bottles of champagne I downed. Or the several individually wrapped packages of biscoff cookies an incredibly attractive flight attendant discreetly slipped me that are now tucked securely away in my carry on. Did I take full advantage of his overt flirtations? You bet your ass I did. If I hadn’t recently sworn off any kind of romantic entanglements, I would’ve attempted to join the mile high club.
By the time I find Liam waiting outside the airport in a large slate grey SUV, I’m made up of at least 30% alcohol, and that might explain why the blurry blonde bombshell in the passenger seat nearly escapes my notice. I giggle when she locks eyes with me through the window. I give her an apologetic wave and proceed to the back.
Liam helps me haul my bags into the trunk, pausing to open the back passenger door for me to step inside. It takes me a minute to situate myself given my overall lack of coordination due in no small part to the perfectly legal, albeit concerning, amount of alcohol flooding my system.
“You alright?” Liam asks, hand on the door as I attempt and fail to secure my buckle several times. When it finally clicks into place, I respond, “All good. Who’s the hottie?”
Before Liam can answer, the gorgeous, curvy woman turns to face me, offering her hand. “Hey, I’m Ruby.” Her voice is soft and sweet with a slight southern accent. I blink a few times, trying to bring her into focus. Her cornflower blue eyes are kind, and she’s the type of beautiful that could bring a grown man to his knees. Liam closes my door, then slides into the driver’s seat, and I don’t miss the way her eyes track his movements. He doesn’t spare her a glance, though, and it feels deliberate. As the car accelerates away from the curb, I notice her posture slowly deflating, a sigh escaping her lips.
Turning onto the interstate, my eyes snag on a massive billboard with a familiar blonde woman, front and center. She’s holding a guitar atop a massive stage, backlit by bright lights and the name Ruby Lynn Hayes in a bold western font. “Holy shit.”
Liam turns up the radio, a ballad about unrequited love filling the silence as I stare slack jawed at the back of Ruby’s head. I’min the presence of country music royalty. “Really, Liam?” She pulls down the visor, flipping open the mirror as she throws her hair into a haphazard bun, tugging a few strands loose to frame her face. Once she’s satisfied, she reaches out to change the station, but Liam playfully slaps her hand away and she giggles.
“I like this song,” he says, and for the first time, he meets her gaze. Liam’s eyes crinkle at the corners and a small dimple appears in one cheek. She bites her lip, and suddenly I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment. The song continues as Liam’s attention returns to the road.
“Cade wanted me to take you to the bridal boutique in Willow Valley to pick up the bridesmaid dresses, then we’re meeting up with a bunch of the crew at Rosie’s to go over some details.”
“Sounds good,” I respond. “I texted a bit with Paige earlier today. She doesn’t suspect a thing.” Liam nods. As far as I can tell, he’s not much of a talker. Ruby’s angelic voice lulls me to sleep, and before I know it, we’re pulling up to the curb in front of a cute row of shops in a small Kentucky town.
Rosie’s diner is every bit as charming as Paige made it out to be. It has a vintage, rustic charm that feels almost homey. When we arrived in Oak Ridge, Liam dropped Ruby off at her parent’s massive ranch before meeting up with Dean, Cara, and Ivy. Now we’re all huddled around two tables pushed together, waiting for one last person to join us. My anxiety over the impending arrival has me fidgeting with a napkin. By the time the bell chimes over the door, I’ve got a nice little pile of casualties in front of me. Started by the interruption, my eyes snag on a familiar mop of blonde hair. I wish I had the foresight to make sure the only open seat at the table wasn’t directly to my left.
Miles motherfucking Barlow saunters over, looking every bit as good as I expected, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from running out the door the second his eyes find me. I snag my glass of ice water, downing it in one gulp. Instant regret hits me as I nearly choke on an ice cube.
The asshole in question smirks at me. “Hey Mags.” His amusement has my nostrils flaring, jaw clenched tight against the anger bubbling beneath the surface.
With a roll of my eyes, I resume tearing through another napkin, a little more forcibly than before. I haven’t spoken to Miles since he ghosted me. I sent him a long-winded text that went undelivered, leaving me with nothing but a pit in my stomach and what was left of my bruised heart. I haven’t stopped long enough to analyze how I feel; there’s anger, for sure, but there’s also a sadness I refuse to acknowledge.
Once we’ve placed our orders, everyone talks over the details of the wedding, but I’m only half listening. I’ve heard enough to know what my job is — keep the bride distracted until it’s time for the big reveal — everything else is drowned out by an incessant pounding in my head. Memories of the months we spent getting to know each other come flooding back, and I can’t bring myself to look at his infuriatingly handsome face. He's a living embodiment of my monumental mistake, a perfectly painful reminder of my poor judgement, and I’ve long since given up on the hope of an apology.
Miles’ thigh bumps mine, and I instantly recoil from the unwelcome touch. He chuckles, “Promise I don’t bite, Mags.”
“Maybe I do.” Against my better judgement, I spare him a sidelong glance. He’s still smirking, and it pisses me off, so I snarl at him like some kind of feral animal. I don’t know where it comes from, and it’s kind of embarrassing if I’m being completely honest.
He mutters something that sounds like, “Woah there, Wildcat” but I’m already up and out of my seat, excusing myself to the bathroom red faced as their eyes follow me down the hall. I’m never going to recover from this.
Miles
Barely a glimpse at the woman who’s been living rent free in my head for months, and I was ready to fall to my knees at her feet. But she doesn’t know the extent of everything that happened all those months ago, and I can’t tell her.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow, having her within arms reach for the first time and not being able to confess everything. It’s become abundantly clear just how much she hates me. After she excused herself from the table, I got a not so friendly interrogation from all sides. I did my best to feign ignorance, but I’ve never been a very good actor. Not wanting to incite any more suspicion than we already have, I paid for everyone’s meals and said my goodbyes.
It’s wedding day and I haven’t crossed paths with the little wildcat yet. She’s holed up in the bridal suite with the rest of the ladies, and I’ve been stuck running around doing Cade’s bidding so he doesn’t lose his shit. “It’s all under control, brother. Deep breaths. Paige loves you.” With one last clap on the shoulder, I leave Cade to pace near the end of the dock, heading inside to find the women and get in line for the processional.
