What I Should’ve Said

Tuesday, August 31st

Norah

“Norah, I mean this with the most love I can muster…but what in the fuck were you thinking?”

Josie’s hands shake, and her chest is a tie-dyed mess of mottled red. When I woke her up this morning to get her help with final touches for the “big wedding,” I kept one of the most obvious details to myself—Josie Ellis, you see, is the bride-to-be in this whole shindig.

As it turns out, a wedding is one of those events that’s hard to just “throw.” You need a bride and a groom and guests. I briefly considered having Bennett and me pretend to be the ones completing our nuptials, but the implications of a dying girl’s father getting married to a woman he just met pushed my moral envelope just a little too far.

Josie looks down at the New York-thrifted dress I snagged from one of the boxes I hadn’t unpacked and fast-talked her into wearing—a white silk A-line with bright pink flowers stitched into the hemline—and glares lasers at me. I suppose, maybe, that when we left the house this morning, she thought she’d be attending as a guest like the rest of us.

“I was thinking that there’s a sad, scared, sick little girl who wants with all of her heart to see a wedding take place today, even if it’s fake, and I hardly know anyone here, so I figured you could play the bride.”

“Oh. I see. You just thought I could play the bride. To Clay’s groom. Are you insane?”

I wince. “Well, technically, Bennett and I did not confer on our choices for bride and groom, but now that it’s happening, I suppose it makes sense, given their friendship and all.”

This afternoon, when I saw Clay wearing the groom tux I rented, I realized my faux pas. But seeing as I’ve got a crowd of people and an excited Summer all dressed up and waiting for this wedding to start, it’s a little too late to fix it.

“I already married that man once, and it didn’t end well,” Josie snaps. “I’d have to be round the actual bend to do it again!”

“It’s not real, Jose,” I try to reassure her. “Breezy found some fake officiant on the internet. It’s not like you’re actually marrying him. This is no more serious than a young girl playing dress-up in her closet.”

Josie growls and stomps a foot. I stand there waiting, my eyes wide, hoping she doesn’t punch me in the face. Thankfully, her anger is channeled into ripping the bouquet donated by Fran’s Florals from my hands. “You owe me so big. So, so big, I can’t even think of the size right now. But it’s going to be huge. Bigger than this whole damn continent, do you hear me?”

I nod, soundlessly, afraid any other strategy will end in my death. I still don’t know what happened between her and Clay, but I sure as shit know now isn’t the time to try to find out. This is damage-control time, and my only priority is getting this fake bride down the aisle without her scratching my eyes out in the process.

“Let’s get this over with,” she grumbles then, turning to face the aisle and shooing me out from behind the curtain of the tent Breezy and Earl set up last night in the town square. Thanks to her shove, I trip on the material and end up wheeling and winding into the aisle like a drunk Jack Sparrow.

Luckily, I find my feet without kicking off this wedding by starring as the bridesmaid in the pink dress who face-plants the ground.

I smile and nod at the crowd of townspeople as I make my way to the front of the aisle where Summer is waiting in her chair. She’s wearing a fancy pink dress—just like mine—with a matching pink purse hanging from the arm of her wheelchair as she waits to be the other bridesmaid in this little soiree.

Bennett stands beside Clay, the pretend groom, who, I’ll note, looks a hell of a lot more excited about this than my sister. His eyes are crinkled with a smile as he looks toward the aisle like a man excitedly waiting for his bride.

Despite all that, it’s not long before it’s all worth it. Every call, every favor I asked for, every single danger to my life Josie proposed.

Summer’s smile is bigger than my sister’s threats as the Bridal Chorus starts, and a happy tear glistens in her perfect blue eyes.

The guests rise, and Josie walks down the aisle, her face in a painfully forced grin. Sheriff Peeler is escorting her, a happy surprise I didn’t know about coming from the old goat, and Clay is rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. Summer stares at the bride, but I can’t help but look at the groom.

Frighteningly, he doesn’t look like a man playing pretend at all.

I start to worry that I’ve made a mistake and glance toward Bennett for some type of indication if I’m going to need to intervene. But when he meets my eyes and holds them, the heat of everything we didn’t get to finish last night right there on the surface of his brooding expression, I forget about the possible problem and swoon a little.

Today, here, at this wedding he helped me throw just to fulfill a wish to his sweet daughter, he’s never looked more handsome.

His eyes sparkle, and his mouth is upturned in a fixed smile. With an all-black suit and a matching black shirt and black tie, he looks downright suave.

Yeah. I still want to climb that man like a tree.

It’s tough, but I drag my eyes away as the Bridal Chorus ends, and Sheriff Pete passes Josie off to Clay. My sister pauses for a long moment before sighing heavily and putting her hand in Clay’s outstretched one.

He helps her step up onto the platform, and I turn Summer’s chair and back it up so she can watch their interaction from a spot where she can see their faces.

The fake officiant Breezy hired starts his speech as expected with a broad, warm sentiment of thanks for everyone being there, and then works his way into the details.

“Josie, do you take Clay to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Silence overwhelms us as Josie grits her teeth and swings her head to look at me.

I look anywhere but at her—the ground, the sky, to a bird that’s flying by, and then to Summer, whose smile has nearly eclipsed her entire face.

Please, Josie. Just say “I do.” I mentally chant as the seconds tick by, and I stare at my pink heels the whole time.

After an entire minute and throat clears from the officiant, Clay, and Bennett, Josie finally responds, “Fine. Yes. I do. Whatever.” It’s low and it’s agonized, but it’s enough to move this fake wedding along. Thank everything.

I have to suck my lips into my mouth to stop myself from laughing, but Eileen Martin doesn’t bother. I can hear her peals of squeals all the way from her spot in the back row.

“And do you, Clay, take Josie to be your wife, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he declares, his voice strong and steady and way louder than my sister’s. “I’ve done it before, and I’d do it again every damn day of my life.”

Uh-oh.

“Great.” The officiant’s smile is nervous, but it’s there. Surely he’s also starting to worry about the waves of anger emanating from Josie’s stern face. “Then how about the rings? Do we have rings?”

Bennett pulls the rings we got from Peggy Samuel’s pawn shop out of his pocket and hands them to Clay.

“Fantastic,” the officiant remarks. “We’ll do the rings with the exchanging of vows. Clay, why don’t you go first this time?”

Clay grabs Josie’s hand and squeezes it, ignoring completely her efforts to pull it away. “Josie Ellis, my heart, my soul, my life. I’ll always love you. I know we’ve been through a mountain range of ups and downs, and that I’ve made a mess of mistakes at every turn, but you are, unequivocally, the only woman for me.”

Okay, yikes, this isn’t a good start to the fake vows that aren’t supposed to be making waves. This is a freaking tsunami of a start if I’ve ever seen one.

“I always knew we’d renew our vows one day, but I also imagined you’d like me a little more than you do now while we were doing it.”

“Renew our vows? Clay, we’re divorced! There’s nothing to renew,” Josie interjects, the last inklings of her façade slipping.

The wheels are coming off a little here, so I step up and to the side, ready to pull the secret knife my sister might be carrying out of her hand if I have to.

One good thing—Summer’s glee is still written brightly across her tiny face, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Josie and Clay like a ping-pong ball that doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“Actually, Josie, we’re not divorced. Not officially.”

A resounding gasp from the crowd is the only thing that keeps me from hearing my own.

“What?” Josie yells. “What do you mean we’re not officially divorced?”

“I never signed the final paperwork,” Clay says, and I start to fear for his life. “You and I are still married, and you know what? I don’t regret it.”

“You…you didn’t sign the paperwork?” Josie’s voice is a dangerous screech that goes up in pitch to a level only dogs can hear at the end.

“No, woman. Because despite your constant yellin’, I still love you. So, I’d do it again!”

In the blink of an eye, Josie lunges, her hands going for Clay’s throat, her touch not loving.

I jump toward her, wrapping my arms around hers as they scrap for purchase on Clay’s vital organs. Bennett grabs him and pulls him back too, and Sheriff Pete and Breezy come running to help me when I start to lose control.

Half the town stays in their seats to laugh and watch the shitshow, and the other half files out, confident their obligation in this little favor is done.

Josie wriggles free from my hold with the strength of something superhuman and takes off at a run for CAFFEINE. I start to follow her, obviously, even though it likely means walking straight into my own homicide, but Breezy stops me with a soft and kind hand on my elbow.

“Why don’t you stay here? I’ll go make sure she’s okay, and you know, cool her down a little.”

I bite my lip, at war with myself over what the best option is. Sure, I don’t want to die, but not going myself to check that she’s okay seems like the kind of cold shoulder she might not forgive.

“I promise I’ll tell her you want to know she’s okay,” Breezy adds, correctly reading my dilemma. I swear, she’s one of the smartest women I’ve ever met, and she’s shown it from the second she arrived last week.

“Okay. But please come get me if—”

Breezy nods before I can even finish and squeezes my hand affectionately. “You take care of my brother and niece. I’ll take care of your sister.” One small smile later, she’s off like a flash, out of the square and down the road toward my sister’s coffee shop. Bennett and Clay are arguing heatedly about Clay’s over-the-top behavior, and Summer looks on from her spot as people funnel in and out all around her.

I check on Summer first since she’s basically helpless in the middle of the chaos, but I’m shocked to find she’s more than okay.

Her eyes are alight, and her cheeks are flushed as she rushes a ramble worthy of one of my own. “Oh my gosh, Norah, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen! It was even better than I thought! So much drama, so much excitement! Are all weddings like this?”

I snort through a chortle. “No, baby. No. Weddings are not usually like this.”

“Well, they should be!” she asserts. “That. Was. Awesome!” Her excitement pauses then, her words spilling into a cough that won’t stop and won’t let her catch her breath.

I grab the oxygen mask from her tank and switch it with the tubing in her nose, encouraging her to take deep breaths to get herself back under control. Bennett and Clay appear immediately, their arguing no longer the priority.

Bennett squats down to check Summer’s pulse, his eyes tearing the air between us as they jerk to mine. I nod.

It’s time to take Summer home.

“Let’s go home, Summble,” Bennett says gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from her watering eyes. She nods slowly, and everything about the strength she seemed to have just a minute ago disappears.

Clay, the bastard, at least recognizes what’s going on, offering, “I’ll take care of all the cleanup here. You all just go on and head for the house.”

I serve him a glower as I rearrange the bottom of my dress and follow behind Bennett and Summer on the way to his truck. Once she’s loaded safely, I offer Bennett the option of my company. The thing is, I really don’t want to assume he wants me there every minute if he’d rather have time alone with Summer.

“Do…do you want me to come with you? I’ll follow in my car, of course, but I can also stay here and help Clay if you’d rather—”

“No. I want you to come,” Bennett interrupts. “I want you to come, and I’m sure Summer does too.”

“I just don’t want to overstep here, Ben. I can—”

“Norah, get in the damn car.”

Argument forgotten, along with our very public location, I get up on my toes and press a single kiss to his lips. Brief, soft—just a whisper. But the feel of his fingertips as they dig into my hip is enough to tell me he appreciates it.

I hustle to the Civic on the other side of his truck as he climbs in and starts his engine. When he’s sure I’m ready to follow, he takes off, and I pull out of the space after him. In tandem, we make the ten-minute drive to his house, and by the time we arrive, Summer is fast asleep. He scoops her delicate body into his arms, and I grab the oxygen tank without a word, following him into the house.

Charlie is already there, waiting in the kitchen when we arrive. Her rugged face is soft with compassion as she gets her first good look at Summer. “Was it everything she hoped for?”

“And so much more,” Bennett huffs as we walk into Summer’s bedroom.

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Charlie smiles at me as I secure the oxygen tank behind the bed. “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

“It was certainly something.”

“Yeah,” Bennett grumbles. “I could stand to wait a day or two before reliving it.”

I have to bite my lip to hide my amusement. Charlie, though, outright laughs. “Man, now I really can’t wait to hear about it.”

“I’m sure Summer will talk your ear off about it when she wakes up,” Bennett says as he sits down on the edge of her bed. She’s deep in sleep, and he takes her small, lax hand into his. With his free hand, he fusses with her sheets and comforter, making sure they’re tucked around her just right.

I use the quiet moment to step back into the corner of the room and text the one person I haven’t stopped thinking about since I got in her Civic and drove here.

Guilt sits heavy in my stomach as I hit send.

Me: Are you okay? I know I’m the last person on earth you want to talk to you right now…well, besides the idiot whom I won’t name. But I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Josie. I’m so, so sorry for what happened out there. I swear to you, I had NO IDEA that Clay was the chosen groom until this afternoon or that he was going to be a total asshat. Please don’t hate me. I love you.

I nearly drop my phone when an incoming text makes it vibrate in my hands.

Josie: I don’t hate you.

Me: You promise? Because I feel like a real asshole for putting you in that situation.

Josie: Promise.

Me: Breezy still with you?

Josie: Yeah. She brought some wine to distract me from killing Clay.

Thank goodness for Breezy.

I can tell by Josie’s short answers that she’s nowhere near ready to talk about what Clay revealed today. No doubt, she needs time to work through the myriad of emotions she’s probably feeling right now.

And I’m sure there’s a part of her that’s still pissed at me, but that’s okay. I can handle it as long as she hasn’t shut me out completely. We’ve done that once, for far too many years, and I never want to do it again. Josie means too much to me. She’s the only family I have now. Besides Bennett and Summer.

Funny enough, that thought doesn’t even scare me. It only makes me send my sister one more message.

Me: Just so you know, you made Summer’s day. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that little girl so excited. She said, and I quote, “It was the best thing I’ve ever seen!”

Josie: I’m glad at least something good came out of it. Give her a kiss for me.

Me: I will.

Charlie’s voice grabs my attention again when she offers, “Ben, how about I sit with her while she sleeps? I’ll let you know if there’re any changes or if she wakes up.”

Bennett nods in agreement, kissing Summer’s hand and cheek one more time before rising to his feet. I follow suit when he’s gone, giving her two kisses to her forehead and brushing her hair out of her face as I do. “Sleep well, sweet girl.”

Charlie takes a seat in the chair next to Summer’s bed, and Bennett and I step out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind us.

I’m happy to be here, but there’s a part of me that wishes I would have gone home to shower and change first.

Wordlessly, Bennett takes my hand and walks us down the hall. I expect him to go to the kitchen or the living room, or even outside for some fresh air, but instead, we walk deeper into his old farmhouse, straight to his white bedroom.

“Bennett, what are we…”

“I don’t know about you, but I want a shower more than just about anything.”

A small puff of surprised air leaves my nose. “Yeah. A shower does sound nice. Do you want to go first, or do you want me to—”

“I want us to go together,” he interrupts, pulling me into his arms and then walking us backward to shut and lock his bedroom door.

“Ben…”

“I don’t want to be alone, but even more than that, I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too.” I don’t know how long I’ve ached and longed and dreamed about what it would be like to be truly with Bennett Bishop, but hell, I’m out of patience. Out of willpower. Out of everything but the acute, throbbing need I have for him.

The sound of my dress zipper sliding down my back is the only audible answer I get. The only answer I need.

Bennett walks me gently backward, thumbing the straps of my dress off my shoulders until it falls to the floor at my shuffling feet. We walk over it, his body heat directly engaged with mine as he guides me into the bathroom, and my lace bra rubs against his tanned, hair-sprinkled chest now that he has the top four buttons of his shirt undone.

The silence makes it all the more erotic, my heaving breaths and our racing hearts creating a soundtrack to the moment.

Bennett’s mouth finds mine just outside the shower, and it’s not long before his tongue finds mine too. I don’t bother to withhold access, and I don’t stop my back when it arches my stomach into his.

He feels good and real and so fucking manly I can hardly stand it. His hands are gentle, but the skin is rough with work and life and experience. He’s confident, but he’s not cocky, and the word rush isn’t in his vocabulary.

I feel like the most amazing creature in the world as he cherishes the skin of my chest and neck along the lines of where flesh meets bone.

He pauses briefly to reach in and turn on the water in the shower, but as he comes back to me, he cups the sides of my face in his hands with reverence. His movements are poised and measured as he kisses the skin of my cheek and my nose and then both of my closed eyelids too. A gasp takes all the rigidity out of my neck, and my head falls back at once.

Bennett unclasps my bra with ease, his artist’s fingers nimble in every way they need to be. As it slides down my shoulders and the cold air of the open bathroom hits my breasts, my nipples peak into points and brush directly against his chest.

“You are so perfect,” Bennett says then, his voice filled with awe. I think he’s talking about my body, given the nature of his timing, but when he keeps going, his true meaning hits me square in the chest. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. I’m sorry I treated you so poorly. But most of all, I’m so sorry I ever thought it would be a bad idea to know you…to let you in.”

My next breath shakes so badly, I know it’s only a matter of time before I can’t find air at all.

“You’ve changed our lives, Norah. You’ve changed them so much for the better.”

My voice is a whisper—it’s all I can manage. “I feel the same way about you. The things I thought mattered before? They don’t matter at all. All the things I should’ve said? I’m going to make sure I say them now.”

Bennett grabs my hip with one hand and my face with the other, sealing our lips in a kiss I’ll remember for the rest of my life. It’s passion and pain and every raw emotion this life has to offer. We’re intertwined in each other as he steps us under the spray of the water, and my underwear comes off in a rip.

My chest moves up and down in huge heaves, the feel of Bennett’s every muscle against me reminding me of the first and only other time I used this shower.

“Last time I showered in here,” I murmur softly, “I got so lost in thoughts of you that I made myself come.”

Bennett’s grunt of approval runs through my entire body as he lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I’m not entirely sure when he got rid of his pants, but I know for sure they’re long gone when his cock presses at my entrance.

Firmly but slowly, he pushes himself until he’s seated inside. And my whole body quakes with the perfectness of our fit—with the perfectness of it all.

Determined to leave no words behind, I say the thing that scares a million men into hibernation on a daily basis. I say the thing, I realize now, I should’ve said all along. Once, we were enemies, but at the root of that was this.

“I love you, Bennett.” Him and Summer. I love them both.

He doesn’t balk at my words. Doesn’t stop touching me, caressing me, moving his cock inside me. “I love you too, Norah. I love you in spite of trying my best not to.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I understand on an intrinsic level, in a way that I never understood before. I couldn’t see Thomas’s face on my wedding day, not because of his personality or the letter or any of the other obvious reasons there are.

I couldn’t see his face because searching for it in my mind was the first mistake.

When it’s right, you don’t have to search.

You don’t find love. Love finds you.