Eight Years Gone, page 11
And now they were having dinner.
The other day she’d told Christy that sitting down for a cup of coffee was too complicated. This was an entire meal. And that was after spending the majority of the afternoon together.
She sighed as she stepped back to recheck the balance of greenery, satisfied that the chandelier was lush and even.
Grabbing a bucket of the white roses, she brought them over to her workspace, pausing as she moved to pick up her shears when her phone alerted her to a text.
Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she swallowed as she read Ben’s message.
What are you up to this weekend?
She hadn’t seen him since the bonfire, and they hadn’t talked in a couple of days while he’d been away at a conference. Mostly, she didn’t know what to do—how to navigate such turbulent waters.
It’s the big wedding weekend.
He replied immediately. That’s right.
She snagged her lip with her teeth, trying to figure out how to tell him about the rest. Everything had happened so fast—Aunt Maggie’s awful gait and her knee-jerk reaction to seek out Jagger’s help. Then the whole dinner thing had come up.
Jagger’s going to give me a hand with the setup.
Ben replied again. You two seem to be in the same places a lot.
Didn’t she know it. He does a lot to help my family. Aunt Maggie’s having a flare-up. There’s talk of pizza at Rafferty’s afterward. To celebrate a job well done.
It took Ben a moment to text her back. Sometimes I get the impression that it’s more than that. Should we be taking a step back?
She sighed. Why was all of this so messy? Ben was one of her good friends. They had fun together. He was the only man she’d been even remotely interested in dating since Jagger walked away. But she couldn’t lead him on when she was so unsure. To be honest, I’m confused. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of my closest friends. You’re so important to me.
She held her breath, waiting for his next reply, her stomach growing sicker as the seconds ticked by.
Finally, he responded. You need to do what’s right for you. Good luck with the wedding.
She closed her eyes, knowing she was on the verge of losing one of the most important people in her life. Blinking back tears, she typed again. I’m so sorry, Ben.
She waited another minute, hoping he would type something back, but he didn’t. Putting her phone away, she stared at the floor.
Jagger stopped in front of her, carrying two buckets of the flowers she would need. “Is everything okay?”
She looked at him, never feeling more torn. Everything was falling apart. Her life had been a mess since she saw him running in Central Park.
So why was she as happy as she was angry that he’d come back? Why was she incapable of doing anything about it when this was exactly what she’d wanted—when he stood right here?
“Everything’s fine. I need to get the peonies,” she said, walking away, needing a break from the complications of her current reality.
Twelve
The sun quickly descended toward the horizon as Jagger set the final centerpiece on the last table under the massive tent. The clouds and drizzle of yesterday had given way to warmth and clear skies for the bride and groom’s special day.
Maggie had been right when she’d called this the wedding of the year. There were two dance floors for two hundred and fifty guests and a kick-ass band already setting up for the evening’s festivities. The swank country club gardens surrounding the event only added to the elegance Grace had spoken of while they dethorned roses in the processing room.
He glanced in her direction, hurrying her way as she stepped another rung higher on the twelve-foot ladder she stood on, stretching to add another piece of the trailing ivy to the chandelier she was finishing with the final touches.
“Hold up,” he said, climbing up far enough to grab the back waist of her jeans, keeping her steady as she reached over her head again.
She looked down. “Thanks. It’s pretty high up here.”
“You’re definitely braver than me.”
She raised her brow. “Says the guy who regularly jumped out of planes.”
He smiled. “Yeah, but I had a parachute.”
She grinned before she turned to get back to work, standing on her tiptoes as she pushed another piece of ivy into place.
He grinned at her back as he tightened his hold on her pants, loving that she’d tossed more than a few smiles his way over the last couple of hours. So far, things were going great.
They’d made a good team, falling into the efficient rhythm of two people who had done several site setups together over the years. Grace had delivered bouquets to the bridal party, then worked on the chandelier while he took care of the centerpiece arrangements.
And conversation was getting easier between them—not quite as stiff. But she still peppered him with questions about his former career: what was direct-action warfare, who did he talk to when he wore those headphones she saw in so many of the pictures online, and what were Africa and the Middle East like?
He wanted to talk about something different—more important things. But for now, he would take what he could get.
Grace dropped back to her feet on the metal rung, looking down at him again. “I think that’s it.”
“It looks great.” And it did. Grace had done an amazing job. The twinkle of interwoven fairy lights and the new trailing vines brought the entire space together.
“Thanks,” she said, climbing down after him, brushing off her hands. “Everything’s coming together.”
He studied the sweeping white ceiling drapes and the dozen smaller bubble light chandeliers that complimented Grace’s hard work. The table flowers centered among fine china and crystal glassware added to the stunning effect. “You were right.”
She frowned. “About what?”
“When you said white on white was elegant, I had a hard time believing you.”
“Wait till they start lighting the candles on the tables.”
“It’s beautiful.”
She touched his arm. “Thank you, Jagger, for helping me. This would have been a lot for Aunt Maggie, especially with all the deliveries we took care of first.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
She swallowed as she held his gaze, clearly understanding his double meaning.
“Grace.”
They both looked over when the petite raven-haired woman walked their way in a burgundy spaghetti-strap dress.
Grace smiled. “Rachel.”
Rachel pressed her hand to her heart. “Everything’s so stunning.”
Grace smiled again. “Including you.”
“Aw,” Rachel said as she beamed, reaching for Grace’s hands. “Aren’t you sweet?”
Grace gave her fingers a squeeze. “How’s your sister holding up?”
Rachel puffed out a breath. “She’s hanging in there. I just wanted to take a peek and make sure everything’s all set.”
Grace nodded. “Jagger and I just finished with the flowers, and everyone else seems to be working hard.”
Rachel sighed her apparent relief. “Thank you for all that you’ve done. My family and I will definitely be recommending Simplicity to everyone.”
Grace chuckled. “We appreciate it.”
“So, you’re heading out?”
Grace nodded. “I’d say our work here is done.”
Jagger glanced toward the darkening sky, not hating that he and Grace would be heading to Rafferty’s soon. And they would have a full moon to enjoy while they ate their dinner by the lake.
Rachel gave Grace a hug. “Thank you again. You and Maggie are the best.”
Grace hugged her back. “It was our pleasure.”
Rachel sent Jagger a polite nod. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
“Bye,” Rachel said, smiling as she walked off.
Jagger gave his attention to Grace, eager to move their night along. He wanted her all to himself. “Should we grab our stuff and get the lattice from Blake? Then we can head out to dinner.”
Some of the easiness left her eyes. “Sure.” She sent him a weak smile before she turned.
He snagged her arm, turning her back. “I’m not going to force you to eat with me. If this makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it. You can drop me off at the shop, and I’ll get my car.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”
He clenched his jaw, struggling with frustration. Hadn’t they just had a good day? “I don’t want it to be fine—an obligation.”
She shook her head again. “It’s not. Rafferty’s sounds delicious. I’m starving.”
He exhaled a quiet breath, wondering if this was as good as it would get between them—a few easy moments scattered here and there. Maybe there really was no coming back from the mess he’d made. “Me, too.”
She touched his arm in what could only be an apology before she took his hand, pulling him along. “Let’s go eat. We can even use the app to order ahead. Everything will be ready when we get there.”
Pop music played through the speakers as Grace sat across from Jagger in one of Rafferty’s big booths. They’d shown up at just the right time, snagging the last table by the windows as families piled into the restaurant after games of miniature golf and laps around the track on go-karts at the fun park across the street.
“It’s exactly how I remember it,” Jagger said in the noisy family-friendly atmosphere before he pulled another drink of water from one of Rafferty’s signature blue plastic tumblers.
“So, you mean loud?”
He smiled. “Pretty much.”
She smiled back, forever reminding herself to relax as she stared at his gorgeous face. Although today had gone far better than she’d expected.
Jagger had made the afternoon easy, both of them falling into a rhythm they knew well as they ran a few deliveries and set up for the wedding. So far, dinner didn’t appear to be a big deal either.
“But the view’s gorgeous,” he added.
Their view out the window was fantastic as the moon shined brightly on the water. “It’s stunning.”
“Here you go, folks,” the waitress said as she walked over with their order, setting three huge slices of green pepper, onion, and pepperoni pizza in front of Grace.
Grace smiled politely. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing, honey.” Then the woman set three slices of sausage and jalapeno pizza in front of Jagger. “And that’s for you.”
Jagger smiled. “I appreciate it.”
Their waitress took a step back. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Maybe some more water,” Jagger suggested.
The waitress smiled. “Sure thing.” Then she walked off.
Grace breathed deeply as she picked up two slices of her pizza and set them on Jagger’s plate as he did the same, putting one of his slices on hers. “This smells so good.”
He rubbed his hands together. “I’ve been waiting all day to dig in.”
She went about plucking the jalapeno pieces off her pizza, enjoying the flavor of Jagger’s favorite toppings but not the heat. “You know, they have that pale ale you like.”
He shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
She frowned because he’d always had a beer or two when they went to a party. “At all?”
He shook his head again. “I gave it up. I was drinking too much.”
She stopped plucking at her pizza. “Oh.”
“I found myself coming back from missions, reaching for a bottle. After four years of doing the work I did, it was getting harder to compartmentalize the things I would do or see. At some point, I realized the booze was becoming a crutch—that I was starting to need it the way my mother and brother had seemed to need it, so I stopped. I also decided not to re-up.”
She reached over, touching his hand, remembering well enough the stories he’d shared of his life before they’d met: strange men in and out of the house, on-and-off domestic violence, food insecurity, and neglect.
The one time Jagger had taken Grace into his world—the only time she’d met his mother, Jasmine Tennyson had been drunk. “I’m sorry.”
He covered her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze as he sent her a small smile. “I’m good.”
She smiled back, finally understanding the wary harshness she often saw in his eyes. Long ago, he’d escaped his old life when her father had extended Jagger an invitation, but his career had taken its toll. “Good.”
He gave her fingers another gentle squeeze before he moved farther back in his seat. “Let’s dig—”
“Master Jagger. Hi, Master Jagger,” a couple of elementary-age kids enthusiastically waved as they walked by with their family.
Jagger smiled. “Hey, Mason. Hey, Chance.”
“We’ve been practicing our poomsaes,” one of the boys yelled over his shoulder.
Jagger nodded his approval. “Show me Tuesday night.”
The kid beamed. “Okay.”
Jagger chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Grace again. “That’s Mason and Chance. Mason’s excited about his poomsae.”
Grace grinned, finding Jagger irresistible. He’d always been so good with kids. “I noticed.”
Chuckling again, he picked up his first pizza slice as Grace did the same, both of them touching their pieces together in a toast. “Enjoy.”
“Enjoy,” she said, blinking as she bit in, chewing slowly as she glanced from her plate to his, only now realizing what they’d both done.
“Old habits die hard.”
Looking up, she held his gaze. Everything about the last several minutes had been so normal—so automatic.
They’d always shared their pizza. She’d always given him two of her slices, and he gave one of his slices to her. Even pulling off the jalapenos and toasting their damn slices. “Yes, they do.”
“I was waiting for you to finish that up, then hand me the crust.”
She closed her eyes as she smiled, doing her best to ignore how right it felt to be sitting across from Jagger at Rafferty’s.
He gave her calf a quick rub with the side of his sneaker. “Tell me more about your photography. You said you’re traveling to all fifty states for the magazine.”
She nodded, biting into her pizza again, giving herself a moment to steady. “It’s slow going. I started the project six months ago. I’ve been to most of the Northeastern and Southern states. I’d like to head out west next.”
“So California, Oregon, Washington?”
She shook her head. “No, not yet. I want to go to Montana first.”
He raised his brow. “What has you excited about Montana?”
“The mountains.” She grinned, already imagining the pictures she would take. “The sunsets. I want to set up just before the golden hour and wait for the magic to unfold.”
“I imagine it’ll be fantastic. If you wait around long enough, I bet you’ll get some great shots of the stars. You won’t have to worry about light pollution way out there.”
“Mmm.” She nodded enthusiastically, loving that she didn’t have to explain herself—that Jagger understood everything about her world.
He’d gone with her to so many places, patiently waiting for hours while she took her pictures, perfecting her photography skills. “And I want to stay on one of those dude ranches.”
He frowned as he stopped mid-chew. “A dude ranch?”
She laughed. “Yes. The pictures will be amazing—the animals in the pastures. Capturing the ranchers in action. Maybe I might even catch a Montana snowfall.”
He nodded. “I can see it.”
“I might take a couple of days and go in November.”
“It sounds like you have a plan.”
She took another bite, sitting back as she chewed, debating whether to confide an opportunity she’d been toying with. “Marjorie Nickels, the high school principal, approached me about teaching photography at the school next year.”
He snatched up one of the pepperoni slices she’d put on his plate. “No kidding?”
She shrugged. “I currently volunteer a couple of hours a week. I’ve been working with some of the kids on the yearbook staff—helping them with their photography skills. It would be part-time. A new class offering.”
He leaned farther forward. “That sounds great, Grace.”
She jerked her shoulders again as she handed him her crust. “I don’t know.”
“What’s got you hung up?”
She sighed. “It would be a lot with my full schedule—a couple of afternoons a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I think. Plus, I’m not sure that I’m teacher material—that I actually know how to stand up in front of a classroom and teach.”
He broke off a piece of the crust she’d given him. “You’re patient and compassionate. You explain things well. I’ve learned all kinds of stuff about photography just from watching you. You’re teaching the kids right now, aren’t you?”
She sighed again. “Mostly, I give hints on improving technique. I don’t know if that qualifies as actual instruction—lectures, lessons, grading.”
He shrugged this time. “So, you’d take it as it comes. You’d figure it out. You always do. Especially if you let yourself have fun with it.”
His absolute faith in her was infectious—a balm over her hesitations to try something so overwhelming. “The yearbook kids seem like they’re enjoying themselves. And their pictures are getting better.”
He smiled as he nodded. “See? There you go.”
She huffed out a laugh, growing excited about new possibilities—something she’d never even considered. “Marjorie said she would set me up with a mentor.”
He nodded. “You’ll be great.”
She grinned. “I think I might actually give it a shot.”
