Nineteen
After the text convo with Chelsea and Victoria, Roarke appeared different to me. As he walked with Allie’s arm through his own down the aisle, his attractiveness notched up another level. His eyes found mine and I didn’t shift my gaze. After he pretends to give Allie away, he sits in the first pew next to his mother, and I yearn to feel his strong body next to mine.
The pastor finishes his pretend ceremony and instead of Allie and Wyatt pretending to kiss, they go at each other like they’ve been reunited after months apart. The groomsmen whistle and the bridesmaids clap.
I wonder if they fight on purpose for the make-up sex? I probably shouldn’t be thinking that in a church.
Roarke rises from his seat and stops at my pew, his hand out for me.
As I rise from my seat, my hand falls into his and he wastes no time in linking our fingers and escorting me out of the building.
“We have to go to dinner and then we’re free,” he whispers when everyone starts filing out to their cars.
“Where’s dinner?” I ask.
“We’re going to a restaurant on the outskirts of town.” He opens my door as usual and rounds the front of the Range Rover over to his side.
I spot his mom sliding into an older BMW while a man hops into the driver’s seat.
All the cars are in a procession line, winding through the streets of downtown Woods Parlor. After a minute or so, Roarke turns on some music to fill the silence in the car.
Chelsea and Victoria’s words continue to wreak havoc in my head. Both the devil and the angel are propped on my shoulders, each weighing in with their advice.
“You okay?” Roarke’s hand slides to my knee and a million shivers cascade up my thigh hitting the bullseye between my legs.
I stare over at him, seeing him for the man he is, the man I didn’t know he was, only weeks ago. “I didn’t know you at all.”
He tilts his head, briefly glancing at me, then shifting his eyes back to the road.
“You know me.”
“No, I thought I did.” I shake my head. “I’m woman enough to admit I was wrong.”
He parks in a deserted parking lot of a store without business banners in the windows, leaving the line of cars headed to the rehearsal dinner.
“I’m lost.” He cuts the engine, turning in his seat to face me.
“Is this whole thing an act? Like you hired these people to act like your family and say nice things about you?”
He chuckles more to himself than me. “They say nice things about me?”
“You know you’re like a hero in this town. Is that why you brought me? To brainwash me into thinking that man in Chicago isn’t real?” My hand feels for the handle and I pry the door open, needing air and maybe some distance from Roarke.
A second later, his door shuts and he’s at my side near the back of the truck.
“I’m not only the callous, unfeeling man you see me as when I’m working in the city. I’m also the son who still strives to make his mom proud even though he’s still filled with resentment for her. I’m the brother who wants to make his sister’s life easier and let her have the dream of unconditional love neither of us grew up with. I’m the town quarterback who left and made something of himself who wants to give a younger version of himself a leg up. I’m the boy who got his heartbroken at a young age that defined his jagged line of thinking when it comes to trust.”
I lean on the back of the SUV, my hands clinging to the bumper. His declaration is so honest and pure.
“Did you practice that?” I ask softly.
He throws his hands up in the air and walks across the parking lot flattening the weeds sprouting up between the cracks. “No,” he bites out.
“Are you mad?”
“I’m starting to get mad. Yes. I get mad when I feel defeated.” He swivels around, his beauty and strength more visible against the backdrop of what failure looks like.
“I’m sorry. It’s just…” This time I give him my back, walking a few steps away.
My head is in a jumble. How on Earth can I want this man? The man I’ve loathed for the past year. The man I almost made a voodoo doll of. How did I allow him to weasel his way past my armor?
“It’s trust. I get it. In