Page 60 of Bordeaux Bombshell
“Yes, I’ll be there by nine, I promise. Seriously, is that all you guys wanted to ask?” Are they trying to piss me off on purpose? Is this a test to see if I react?
Jackie grins, the expression transforming her face. “Did my eyes deceive me, or did you and Nathaniel come to some kind of armistice?”
Behind me, Mom coughs. “Is the Battle of Wills over? Or is this just a temporary ceasefire?”
I shake my head and step sideways so I can see them both at once. “You guys are being overdramatic. We are on our best behavior for Kel and Maggie’s sake.”
“Not for your own?” Jackie tips her head to the side, raking her eyes up and down me like she’s searching for a sign that I’m lying.
I shrug. “Not sure. You interrupted us.” Shifting my weight from side to side, I tamp down on the urge to walk away. But I’m determined not to run from the uncomfortable momentstonight. Because I finally have hope that there might be a different kind of life waiting for me on the other side.
Maybe here. Maybe somewhere else. But no matter what happens now, I refuse to be trapped in the cycle of anger and embarrassment that’s been haunting me for the last two years.
“Don’t tell your father he was right.” Mom grabs Jackie by the elbow. “Seems we were a trifle premature. But we’re still seating you two at the same table tomorrow.”
Jackie laughs. “Rebecca, you make the worst threats. Of course they would be at the same table. All the family is sitting with the bridal party.”
I watch them leave, emotions warring inside me. Do I trust the peace between us, or is Nate putting on a show for everyone? It doesn’t feel like it, but I’ve been wrong before. Should I hope? Or should I hold my breath for the moment it all falls apart again?
All I know for sure is that whatever this is, it feels good.
Nate
IkeptlookingforSydney after our moms stole her, but she didn’t come back to the table. Since the night was winding down anyway, I excused myself to the bride and groom.
To save ourselves the long drive in the morning, we’re staying at a hotel near the venue. I was tempted to ask Sydney to come stay with me, but since it seemed like a very obvious Bad Idea, I refrained.
Not that Philip was any help in that department.
“Ach, come on, Nate. This is your secret weapon, isn’t it?” He was insistent as we sat at the bar with Kel a few nights ago, planning Operation WooCat. Kel insists we call it that, although I refuse to say it out loud. “Get her to stay with you. Only one bed. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” Kel put his foot down. “Just because I don’t object to Nate making my sister happy, does not mean I want to think about anything to do with them and beds.”
“That’s rich, coming from the pair of you.” The whiskey made me talkative. “Do you know how many times I have had to listen to both of youandyour women?”
At least they had the grace to turn pink and stop talking about anything to do with sex after that.
But of course, now I can’t get the idea of Sydney being in my bed all night—a first—out of my head.
So when I emerge from the restaurant and she’s standing out front, it takes only a second for the Very Bad Idea to come out of my mouth. “Come with me.”
With a gasp, Sydney whirls to face me. “Jesus fucking Christ, you have to stop doing that.” Her hand presses to her heaving chest, clutching her phone. “Stop fucking sneaking up on me,” she adds when I don’t say anything.
Holding up my hands, I close the distance between us. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You were going home, right?”
Her apartment isn’t far from here, and knowing how she feels about her home, I assume she’s staying there and not at the hotel like me and my parents.
“I was, yes. Are you offering to buy me a drink?” Her eyes are clear, the lines of her mouth soft and not pinched. Once again, I can’t fight the flicker of hope that flares inside my chest.
“I’m offering you anything you want.”
Her eyes widen at my declaration, but I’ve missed her too much over the last six weeks to waste any more time. We’ve wasted years not being honest with ourselves and each other. It ends tonight.
“I mean it, Sydney. If you want a drink, I’ll buy you a drink. If you want to talk, we’ll talk. If you want to go home and never talk to me again, I’ll hate it, but I’ll put you in an Uber and wave you off.”
She takes a step toward me. “And what if I want to go home and watch a movie?”
“That’s also—”
