Page 27 of Stick Break
“You’ve got tomato juice on your face,” she says, laughing as she grabs a napkin and leans in. Her hand reaches for me. I catch it. Her skin is soft. Too soft. And the contact short-circuits every reasonable thought in my brain. Especially the one trying to keep blood flow above the belt.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend as I take the napkin. She sinks back into her chair, and I quickly wipe my face, then toss the napkin into the fire like it’s evidence of a crime.
When I glance back at her, she’s smiling.
“Let’s try this again.” I pop a tomato into my mouth, this time gently. It bursts with flavor. “Salad’s great, Char.”
She blinks. “Char?”
“You don’t like that?”
“No, it’s fine. No one really calls me that.” Her lips twitch. “It’s nice, Dripley.”
I groan. “Can we not?”
She grins. “Does Easton play hockey too?” she asks.
“Nope. He’s a lawyer. Like our dad. Academic type.”
“And you didn’t want to follow in their footsteps?”
I shake my head as she scoops a scandalous amount of butter onto her plate. Now that’s my kind of girl.
“Maybe that’s why we get along so well,” she says. “You’re a rebel like me.”
I chuckle. “Graduated with a poli-sci degree, but my heart was never in it.” It was just a backup in case hockey didn’t work out.
She grows quiet for a beat. “Do you regret not going to college?”
“I was a daydreamer, not a desk kind of girl.”
Her gaze softens. “The world needs daydreamers too.”
She swallows, like my words hit her right in the chest. “Thanks for saying that, Rip. I think I needed to hear it. But if you really want to know the truth, there are times I do regret it. College. Isn’t for everyone, I know that. My parents pushed it so hard, I think that’s why I chose not to.” Under her breath she adds, “Probably not my smartest move.”
“It’s never too late. If that’s what you want.”
She nods, and we eat in a comfortable rhythm, birds chattering above us. A breeze ruffles her hair. I swear she glows in this light.
After a few quiet minutes, she speaks again. “You never did tell me what you do for fun. Besides fishing and open-fire barbecues.” She slides her fork into another piece of fish, eyes locked on mine as she brings it to her lips. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Or maybe she does.
I take a long swig of beer before I say something stupid. When I set it down, I deadpan, “I marry people.”
Her brows lift. “You what?”
“Yep. Reverend Rip at your service.”
Her laugh bursts out so fast she nearly chokes.
I lean back in my chair, grinning. “Certified. Online. Comes with a PDF and everything.”
“Wait… you’ve actually officiated weddings?”
“Surprised?”
“Very.” She cocks her head. “Wait are you being serious? You actually…marry people.”
