Page 57 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
BRADY
“For a minute there, I thought you’d failed me yesterday,” Beau says. We’re sitting next to each other in matching barber’s chairs inside Powell and Sons Barbers. They’ve only got two chairs in here, so the rest of the guys are out front waiting their turns. Ford and Three are slouched against the brick building, kicking stones across the street, while Hawk gets his shoes shined next to the red-and-white striped barber’s pole.
Pete Powell’s oldest son, Otto, is taking scissors to Beau’s hair. Quentin, Pete’s younger son, is handling my shave. So I can’t really respond with a straight razor scraping up my throat. “Hmm?” is all I can manage.
“You were supposed to watch out for Amber.” Beau pauses to spit some stray hair trimmings away. “And you did a great job at the beach, but then you just disappeared on everyone.” Beau splays his hands. “Poof!”
“Hmph.”
“It’s okay,” he says, like myhmphwas an apology. And maybe it was. “Now I know you had a reason. And I’m really glad Wendy Swanson’s going to be all right.”
“Umm hmm.”
“But beyond helping them,” Beau says, “it turns out you actually did me a favor by taking my sister with you to the clinic last night.”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but Hawk had been digging his claws into Nat—no pun intended.”
“Mmph?”
“Exactly.” Beau nods like he knows exactly whatmmphmeans. Too bad I don’t even know. But I’m thinking something along the lines of,Yeah, I noticed. And also,Hawk better keep his hands off Natalie.
“So while you and Nat were MIA yesterday,” Beau continues, “the rest of us went to dinner at The Merry Cow, and that gave your cousin just enough time to swoop in on Hawk. No pun intended.”
“Hmm hmm?”
“Which cousin?”
Huh. That is actually what I meant. “Umm hmm.”
“Olivia,” Beau says. “And let me tell you, that girl can really turn on the charm when she wants to. She and Hawk split one of those Big Corral dinners, and he definitely seems focused onhernow. Which is perfect. I like Liv. And if something were to happen with her and Hawk, that would be great. Hawk’s a good guy and he’s fantastic to work with. I just don’t think he’s the right man for my sister, you know?”
“Umm hmm.”I absolutely do.
“Nat’s not a big traveler, you know,” Beau continues, having his own one-way conversation with me. “She’s the main reason our family only ever took road trips for vacations. You think she barely visits Abieville now?” He scratches at his nose. “Just wait until she has to board a plane to get here. If she weren’t moving to LA, I’d probablyneversee my sister.” He guffaws, but I squirm a little. Not because warm water’s dripping off the towel into my ears, but because just last night, a part of me was hoping to tempt Natalienotto move.
The thing is, she wants to go to LA, and Beau wants his sister there too. I can only assume Kasey feels the same way. It’salmostunanimous. So I can’t mess with that.
Quentin Powell tips my head back and wraps a warm towel around my face. My mouth and nose are mostly free now, so I attempt to talk. “I’m glad you’ll all be together out there,” I say. “In California.” The words come out like a strangled mumble because of the sharp angle of my neck. And maybe from a touch of jealousy.
“Yeah, Sloane’s apartment will be ideal for Nat,” Beau says. “And the job at St. Joe’s is even better.”
“She deserves the best.” I shift in my chair enough to catch Beau’s head bobbing.
“Nat’s been talking about a big move like this ever since she left for college,” he says.
Yeah. And she planned it years before that.
I shut my eyes, but I can still picture her expression when she told me she never felt like she belonged here. And I could’ve argued that she didn’tletherself make connections in the first place, but what’s the point? She’s moving on. I need to let her go.
And that’s what I’ll tell her tonight at the inn.
“Oh wow.” Beau chuckles. “Would you get a load of those two?”
I slip the towel off my face, and see Beau’s dad standing outside the shop with my dad. Dale Slater and Phil Graham make quite the pair. Their pants are a tartan plaid, and they’re wearing matching hats, except Mr. Slater’s says Father of the Groom, and my dad’s reads Father of the Bride.
Studs.
