How to Rope a Real Man Page 10

  As opposed to Jake, Matt wore his suit like he was born for it. The cut highlighted his tapered physique and dark eyes and hair. She’d never before seen him in a cowboy hat, but damn did she love the hint of swagger it added to the way he held himself. Would she ever get over how devastatingly handsome he was? If he never changed his mind about giving a relationship with her a chance, she hoped on high she could eventually find peace with having him in her family’s life and give herself a break from what ifs and daydreams.

  Carrie was right. It was time for Jenna to move on. Have a little fun. She was twenty-four and on the verge of wonderful changes in her life. A new job, a new city, a new home. Time to take a page from Tara’s book, flip the proverbial bird to the things holding her back, and seize the day.

  Jenna easily found Tara in the audience. She’d changed from her green tank top to a purple, knee-length cocktail dress that flaunted her pale skin and lent vibrancy to the colors of her tattoos. She sat next to two people in their fifties she assumed were Dan and Cynthia Roenick. They had a dignified air about them, like wealthy patriarchs. Dan was an older, stouter version of Matt, but with skin that was several shades more tan—a cowboy tan, it was called around ranch country.

  Jenna couldn’t help but wonder if Tara had done as she’d affectionately threatened, filling in her parents about the closeness with which Jenna and Matt had worked together to solve the flower emergency. Given how enthusiastic Tara had been about Jenna and Matt’s teamwork, Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. and Mrs. Roenick were expecting the two of them to be engaged by the end of the year.

  When the minister called for the rings from Jake, the room hushed. Amy and Kellan’s vows captured everyone’s full attention. Though they’d written their own, Amy had been uncharacteristically coy about the content. This was the first time Jenna had heard them. She had to concentrate to catch all the words through Amy’s blubbering, but was deeply moved by the deep, unyielding love pouring from every word. They vowed to cling to each other during hard times, through their whole lives, forever. They pledged patience and understanding, to never let anger get the better of them and to never keep secrets from each other.

  On the surface, the vows seemed straight out of a rule book for marriage success. Except that Jenna knew life was more complicated than the beautiful words would admit. Sometimes patience did more harm than good. Sometimes you had to get mad for the other person to hear you. Sometimes secrets needed to be kept.

  Her focus strayed to the audience, to the blandly smiling Parrishes. During Jenna and Carson’s final confrontation before he’d left town, he’d intimated that his parents were as guilty as the rest of them for what had happened to him. What part had Lou and Patricia Parrish played in those terrible events? At the very least, they were guilty of a cover-up, and at the worst . . .

  Patricia noticed Jenna staring and smiled. Jenna startled and attempted a smile in return, but her pulse sped.

  At the worst, she was looking into the eyes of attempted murderers.

  Jenna shifted her attention to Amy and Kellan as they sealed their union with a kiss. She clapped with the rest of the crowd, filled anew with joy for her sister—except for the dark corner of her mind that couldn’t shake the sensation that all her years of careful planning weren’t enough to protect her and Tommy.

  Fours weeks. All she had to do was lie low for four more weeks and then they’d be out of this town for good, out from under the prying eyes of the community. She followed Amy and Kellan up the aisle, conjuring a visual of herself as an elephant matriarch—unflappable, tough, and singularly focused on the protection of her family.

  She and Tommy were going to be okay, more than okay, and she was going to emerge from under the shadow of her secrets fighting strong. Nothing was going to go wrong and no one was going to stop her now.

  The reception was a wonderland of flowers. Even though Matt had witnessed Tara’s genius at Carpe Diem, a vision of the final outcome of their efforts had eluded him. Every table burst with blooms of pink, white, and green arrangements that looked like they’d been the plan all along. He couldn’t have been prouder of his big sis.

  At the long bridal party table set apart from the other tables at the head of the ballroom’s dance floor, Jenna was seated between Jake and him. The arrangement was awkward as hell, given the painful, humiliating It’s not you, it’s me conversation he’d had with Jenna before the ceremony, but now both he and Jenna had their game faces on.

  The reality of their relationship moving forward was sure to hit him hard once the dancing got going, but for the time being, they were united in their focus on getting Jake through his best man speech, which the DJ had informed them was coming up next.

  “You’re going to do great,” Jenna whispered to Jake.

  “Don’t sweat it, man. You’ve got this,” Matt added. He leaned behind Jenna’s back and lightly socked Jake’s shoulder.

  Jake nodded without looking up from the table, his blank expression drilling a hole in the floor as if he were a prizefighter sitting in a corner, waiting for the bell to ding. It took the DJ two attempts to get Jake’s attention to pass him the microphone. Jake took it in hand and met Jenna and Matt’s supportive smiles, panic radiating in his eyes.

  “Seriously, man, you’ve got this. Just read your notes,” Matt whispered.

  With grim resolve, Jake stood and faced the crowd. From his inside jacket pocket he pulled a folded paper that crackled into the mic as he opened it. Silence descended over the room. For nearly everyone in attendance, today marked their first glimpse of Kellan’s brother, and for some, their first time learning Kellan had a sibling in the first place.

  Jake stared at the paper, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a swallow. “Thank you all for coming out tonight for this wonderful celebration of my brother and his new bride. Isn’t Amy beautiful? When we—” Applause and hoots cut off his hastily spoken words. His shoulders twitched like the sound surprised him.

  Jenna pressed near Matt’s shoulder, crowding him with her good smells and warmth—and an extraordinary view down her dress that he pointedly avoided. “We should’ve written in the pause.”

  They’d prepped Jake about taking a breath after he read that question to let people clap their agreement, but it seemed he was way too nervous to do more than exactly what the paper indicated. It was a great speech, though, and no one was expecting an Oscar-worthy performance. “He’s doing fine. Tricky part’s over.”

  Once the cheers subsided, Jake scanned the speech until he found his place. “When we were kids, Kellan and I used to play cowboys and robbers in the streets of our neighborhood. We’d sneak rubber bands from people’s newspapers and turn sticks into rubber band guns.”

  Kellan tipped back in his chair, his expression distant, his smile fond, as though he were picturing the memory like a movie in his head. “I forgot about that.”

  Jake swiveled to look at Kellan over the paper. For the first time, Matt could see in his face a tinge of kidlike vulnerability. “I didn’t forget.”

  Kellan held Jake’s gaze and offered a nod full of apology and regret. Jenna braced a hand on Matt’s knee. Matt went completely still. He rolled his eyes to their point of contact and curled his fingers into the table to keep from covering her hand with his like he was desperate to.

  And then Jake did the most amazing thing. With a smile, he reached over and squeezed Kellan’s shoulder. It was as though the whole room let out a collective exhale. Or maybe it was only Matt and Jenna.

  Jake turned forward again, his hand still on Kellan’s shoulder. “I worshipped my big brother. He was three years older than me and always the coolest kid on the block. And here he is today, a real, honest-to-God cowboy with a great life and a great woman to share it with.” He silently read the next lines, then leaned into the mic for the punch line that he, Jenna, and Matt had spent a solid half hour crafting. “But Kellan, there will always be one way I’m cooler than you. You might’ve grown up to be a cowboy
, but I’m the one who gets to carry a gun and catch the robbers.”

  The whole place burst into cheers. He flashed a pleased smile at the crowd, then at Kellan. When the din subsided, he let go of Kellan’s shoulder and gripped the paper hard, concentrating. “Uh . . . where was I? Oh! One thing I’ve learned since the days he and I played make-believe is that life is all about change—some good, some bad. You learn to go with the flow of jobs, apartments, and people in and out of your life. That is, until you find that special someone you can’t imagine giving up, no matter what changes life brings.”

  Matt had written the end of the speech and, though he wasn’t usually boastful, he had to admit it had come out damn good.

  Jake lifted his champagne glass. It wasn’t written into the speech, so Matt took it as a sign that he was relaxing into the idea of being in the spotlight. “It reminds me of a quote I once heard.” About five hours ago. “True love is not about finding a person you can live with, it’s about finding the person you can’t live without. I think we can all agree that my brother has found that person in Amy. Cheers to the happy couple.”

  Amid the awwws and claps of the crowd, Jake was treated to a gigantic bear hug from Kellan.

  The quote was one Matt had heard at a wedding once. He remembered it because then, as now, it had filled him with so much frustration that he couldn’t look anyone in the eye lest he give himself away. That was what he wanted. To be the person a woman couldn’t live without. What would it be like to be so wanted that a woman would be unwilling to live without him, despite his flaws and damage?

  Jenna leaned into him again, her champagne flute up in a request to clink glasses with him. “Nice work, speechwriter.”

  He shook off his darkness and raised his glass, touching it to hers. “Don’t leave yourself out of the credit. You were the one who pulled that childhood story out of him.”

  “I never once, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d need to write a best man’s speech, but we didn’t do too shabby.”

  He sipped the champagne, then said, “When it all came down to it, you threw your sister the best, most perfect wedding Catcher Creek has ever seen. Kudos.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  The DJ took the mic from where Jake had set it and directed the crowd to gather for the first dance. While people stood and moseyed to the edge of the square, Kellan broke from the kiss he’d been laying on Amy. He got the DJ’s attention, then took the mic.

  “Before Amy and I get started on our dance, I’d like to say a few words. I wasn’t planning to, because, uh, public speaking isn’t my strong suit. But here it goes. I’d like to thank you all for joining Amy and me on our big night. We appreciate it. I’d like to give a special shout-out to three people who made this all possible: Matt Roenick and Tara Weiss for stepping in at the last minute with all these beautiful flower arrangements, and most of all, my new sister-in-law, Jenna Sorentino, who planned today down to the last detail. Thank you, Jenna, for everything. I love you and I’m really honored to call you my family.”

  Jenna covered her heart with both hands and smiled at Kellan, misty-eyed.

  After the applause died down, he continued. “With everybody Amy and I love in one place, we’re moved to share our big news with you and kick this celebration up another notch.” He took Amy’s hand and pulled her into an easy embrace. “We found out this morning that Amy’s pregnant.”

  Matt flinched as his insides quaked. Double whammy. It was hard enough watching one person after another in his life get hitched. He hadn’t seen that second blow coming. Working hard to keep a neutral smile on his face, he joined the rest of the reception guests in clapping.

  “Isn’t that wonderful?” Jenna asked, beaming at him.

  He nodded, but couldn’t muster the strength to look her in the eye.

  Always a groomsman, never a groom was exactly the kind of self-pitying muck he’d disavowed after the last of his siblings wed. He resented the bitterness that crept through him like a blood-borne poison with each of his friends’ and family members’ joyous milestones. He hated feeling like a whiny asshole because he couldn’t have what he most wanted in life.

  First-world problem. Get over yourself. You’ve got money, a life full of family and friends, and your health.

  Hell, if he were really trying to get some perspective, he’d focus on being grateful for clean drinking water and freedom of speech. But it was hard to stay focused on gratitude for the many blessings he already had when every other week he was invited to wedding after wedding, first birthday parties and brisses, bar mitzvahs, and school talent shows for his nieces or nephews.

  Geez, he knew a lot of happy couples with kids.

  Choking back a sardonic bark of laughter, he watched Kellan and Amy take the dance floor for their first dance as newlyweds and fantasized about snapping his champagne flute in half. Something a nice guy like him would never do.

  The thing of it was, he was tired of being nice. He was tired of smiling and saying congratulations. Tired of the private shame that came with being jealous of other people’s happiness.

  What he needed right now was to get some air.

  “Excuse me,” he muttered to no one in particular. He twisted his way through the crowd toward the exit. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see his dad.

  “Are you okay?”

  Just great. His dad had sought him out to check in with him because of the pregnancy announcement. That was another thing he was sick and tired of—his parents’ pity. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and stop himself from confessing to them how every new baby announcement hit him like a fresh trauma. A cruel reminder of his defectiveness as a man.

  But he’d had to tell them because they weren’t getting what it was like to be surrounded by his ridiculously fertile brothers and sisters. Or what it did to him inside when some unsuspecting member of their extended family would joke, Just you wait until you’re a father. Then you’ll know what I’m talking about.

  He’d had to explain to his dad why he went hunting every year instead of attending the family’s Father’s Day barbecue.

  “I’m fine.” Though he kept his eyes locked on the dancing couple, in his periphery he watched his dad swab a hand over his mouth.

  “Look, son, the way modern medicine is changing so fast, it’s only a matter of time before the scientists and doctors figure out how to—”

  Matt gripped the champagne flute harder. “Stop, Dad. Please.”

  “You can always adopt.”

  That’s what they all said, his family. And they were right. He could adopt. But that option added a whole new dimension to the vicious cycle of hope and loss he’d experienced over and over. What if he fell in love with a baby and something went wrong with the paperwork? What if the birth mother changed her mind? He wasn’t sure he was made of strong enough stuff to survive any more dashed dreams of fatherhood.

  He couldn’t stand there any longer under his father’s watchful, pitying scrutiny, surrounded by hope and happiness. With a smile as brittle as his self-control, he put his back to the dance floor and started walking. His dad made to follow.

  Matt held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I need some space.”

  Dad nodded and stopped midstride.

  Matt lowered his eyes to the ground, rolled his shoulders back, and kept moving as the DJ invited the rest of the wedding party to join the bride and groom. Damn it, all evening he’d been looking forward to dancing with Jenna. It was the one way he could be close to her without risking himself.

  Missing this dance meant one of the bridesmaids would be left without a partner, but he couldn’t face his friends right now. Someone was bound to see through his façade, Jenna or Kellan most likely, and he wasn’t willing to taint everyone else’s fun with his personal pain.

  He couldn’t get his hand to uncurl from around the flute so he carried it with him out of the room and through the lobby doors.

  Smokers stood in clusters aro
und the planter boxes out front. He barreled past them, to the shadows on the side of the building, his stride lengthening as he neared the Dumpsters and cinder-block wall surrounding the parking lot.

  Anger lit his nerves like a fuse. Winding back, he growled as he launched the flute at the wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash that went a long way toward diffusing his rage.

  He braced his hands on his knees and sucked in deep gulps of air. The grief was sharp tonight, even more so than in the days following his diagnosis. Sharp and raw in a way that had caught him off guard.

  “Guess you really hated that champagne, huh?”

  Matt startled and spun in the direction of the voice.

  A man, bigger than him, slouched against the chain-link fence enclosing the Dumpsters, his hands wedged in his jeans pockets and his clunky, black work boots crossed at the ankles. He was as big as Jake, but less beefy, and while Jake gave off a vibe that he was pissed off at life in general, this man had the same look as the bullies Matt had feared growing up, the type who had taken pleasure in beating up the scrawny Jewish kid in glasses.

  But Matt wasn’t scrawny anymore, not by a long shot, and he’d donated the glasses to charity after laser surgery had fixed his eyes. He could take on a knuckle-dragger like this guy any day of the week and might even best him.

  Matt took a few careful steps back. Not because he was intimidated, but to better size the man up. “Rough night,” he said by way of explanation.

  “Yeah, I’m having one of those myself.” The man pushed away from the wall and into a swath of light that gave Matt a good look at his high-and-tight haircut.

  A soldier, younger than Matt by a few years, if he had to guess. And judging by the Semper Fi tattoo below the sleeve of his gray T-shirt, a Marine.

  All the fight drained out of Matt. He was tough, but he was also smart enough to know he probably couldn’t best an active-duty Marine in a brawl.