Page 17 of Christmas Eve Do-Over
8
Duke
When I didn't receive a phone call or even a text from Shasta after my wine and love song delivery, I was disappointed, but I reminded myself I was in this for the long haul. I'd known making Shasta fall for me a second time wouldn't be easy. The woman was as stubborn as they came.
Esa had called me and told me about Shasta's reaction to my picture at the foster home, along with her comments. A girl didn't almost pass out if she was unaffected, right? I was making progress, I just had to be patient.
So the plans for the next wave were under way. They were so secret, I hadn't even told the Beach Squad what I had in mind. I knew their loyalties lay with Shasta and this was too juicy of a surprise to divulge. I did tell Dean, though, because his assistance was paramount to getting it done. My only hope was that Brinley would be too busy with wedding stuff for him to tell her what I was up to. It was a gamble, but I felt I had to take it.
Fortunately, what I did have was time to pull it together. Esa and Ivan's wedding was today, and since everyone was busy helping with that the last few days, it hadn't seemed like a good idea to interject with my own motives. Esa had invited me to her wedding when she called, so I booked it to the tux shop and got a suit rental sure to turn Shasta's head.
Thankfully, I was still active with my job so I hadn't gotten the pot belly all my friends had grown over the years. I was looking damn good if I do say so myself. I straightened my tie and buttoned the top button of my suit jacket. These things were so tight and restrictive, I didn't know how corporate guys did it every day. Give me board shorts and a buoy any day.
I checked my pocket for the hundredth time, making sure my surprise was right where I wanted it.
When it was time, I drove down to Esa's house in my Corvette, hoping to get Shasta in the passenger seat sometime so I could show off. If I recalled correctly, I'd lost her to a guy in a fast car. Maybe this one would be a good omen to help me get her back.
After I parked several blocks away due to the heavy traffic and walked to the house, I slipped through the side gate and entered a tropical paradise. Arches and gazebos filled with flowers dotted the large grassy backyard, the fence line almost completely obscured by colorful rose bushes. White chairs with attached bouquets lined up beside a center aisle decked with a white runner.
I placed my card and a gift for the newlyweds on the gift table, snagged a glass of champagne off a separate table manned with a couple waiters, and searched the crowd for my lady. She was nowhere to be found, but I knew she had to be here. No way she'd miss helping one of her girls get ready for her wedding. So I waited by the back door of the house, waiting for her to exit, sipping my champagne and practicing my speech.
Music floated over the growing group of guests. Boys I recognized from the Jr. Guards started escorting people to their seats. One came up and dragged me away, telling me I really did have to take my seat. I didn't want the poor kid getting in trouble so I sat, my gaze trained on the back door, not wanting to miss a second of seeing Shasta.
When all the guests were seated, the music changed and the Beach Squad girls came down the aisle, arm in arm with their men. Radiant smiles were on all of their young faces, hair pulled back into elaborate styles, colorful flowers making it feel like an island destination wedding. The men looked dapper and formal in their black suits. The southern California sun, still warm even in December, lit up the yard, the cool ocean breeze bringing a sense of love that permeated everywhere.
But still no sign of Shasta. I was beginning to worry, wondering what horrible thing must have happened for her to miss this wedding. Ivan walked out, flanked by his parents, a broad smile on his face, his cheeks flushed. He waited at the front of the aisle, just inside the huge archway in the backyard, fidgeting with the sleeves of his suit jacket.
The music changed again, this time the wedding march. Everyone stood, and I lost my view of the back door. I bobbed my head left and couldn't see around a ridiculously tall man in the aisle behind me. I bobbed right and finally got a line of sight to the center runner.
Esa appeared, ambling down the runner, her hands clasped around a gorgeous bouquet of burnt orange roses. Her smile was radiant if a bit shaky. Her eyes never left Ivan's face as she walked to her future. My gaze never left the person who held her by the elbow as they walked.
Shasta.
My beautiful woman sauntered down the aisle dressed in a light blue dress, the expensive fabric highlighting her strong arms and ample bosom. The belt highlighted her tiny waist, with the skirt flaring out to dance around her curvy legs showcased in sky-high heels I wanted to see again when it was just the two of us. Her smile was even shakier than Esa's, a lone tear already tracking its way down her cheek. I checked myself, wanting to run over and wipe it away. A long-ago memory surfaced of her breaking up with me, walking out the door, and wiping tears off her face.
Her eyes shifted about, almost as if searching the crowd. When her gaze hit mine, I smiled and winked, hoping to stem the flow of tears. She smiled back but then wrenched her gaze away to focus on the arch. I could see how tight she gripped Esa, and I knew how much she loved her.
I sat back down once Esa's hand was held in Ivan's and Shasta took a seat in the front row. I finally glanced at the couple, seeing more tears on Ivan's face than Esa's. These damn lifeguards were such manly men on the job, but such teddy bears when it came to their hearts. I should know. I was one of them.
Throughout the ceremony, there were quite a few laughs and deep, heartfelt moments. But throughout, I kept my focus on the back of Shasta's head, willing her to reciprocate my feelings. To see the love practically pinging around the backyard because it was so tangible.
If only she'd open her heart and give us a chance.
As Ivan kissed his bride and the wedding procession traveled back up the aisle, I prayed for a crack. One tiny little crack in Shasta's heart, where I could prove to her we were worth fighting for.
When the photos were done, the yard cleared, the food served, and the dance floor packed, I finally made my move.
* * *
"Care to dance with an old man?" I thrust my hand out toward Shasta, palm up, an air of confidence in my stance that I didn't feel in my gut.
She was standing in a group of people, chatting away as if I wasn't in the vicinity pining over her, hoping for any sign she wanted to talk to me as badly as I wanted to talk to her. Her head tilted and time stood still with her indecision. Would she turn me down?
"Maybe just one dance." She placed her hand lightly in mine.
As desperate men do, you take what you can get. I tightened my hold on her and escorted her to the dancing area, finding a quiet corner where we wouldn't be bumped or interrupted. I pulled her in, my arms wrapping around her waist, finding small joys in just holding her body close to mine again.
We'd been barely adults when we dated, not yet tested by the world, nor jaded by it either. In the throws of hormones and freedom, you take for granted the times with people who love you, thinking it'll last forever and work out perfectly. Then reality hits and you lose some of that hope, some of that possibility, mired down in responsibilities and the daily grind to get where you want to go.
