I wrote down everything Mesa said to me. It felt awkward to put her words to paper. I couldn’t humble myself enough to relive them at first, but Warren assured me it’d help. Cheesy motherfucker.
Cheesy motherfucker in a happy, healthy relationship, though. Yeah, I buried my pride and did what he told me to do.
The only valid conclusion I came to is that Mesa has put up with a constant state of whiplash from me. Somehow, she stuck through all that and gave me the only genuine connection I’ve ever had with a girl. As spineless as it was on my part to suggest it in the first place, I’m actually thankful we started as friends, so I can truly appreciate and recognize it now.
A light breeze dances through a line of trees as we cross a cattle guard. Two tiny white butterflies flutter around a patch of pink prairie roses by the gate. Mesa would think that’s cute.
Next time I go for a ride like this, I hope she comes with me.
My phone rings again and this time it’s Gage. I hit the red button and tuck the phone under my thigh. When it rings again, my heated curse words cause a bird to flush from a nearby tree.
Heston.
“I’m coming,” I sigh into the phone after answering.
“Cutting it a little close. Crazy thing about weddings. They have a start time, and usually, groomsmen take a shower first.”
I lower the phone and check the time. Shit. It’s one in the afternoon and we’re supposed to be ready for pictures in an hour.
“Is she here?” I ask while Savannah fixes my crooked bowtie.
She quirks an eyebrow and continues to adjust my collar. “I don’t know.”
I lift my chin to stare over her head and take a deep breath. Even after my long ride this morning, my planned words for her still don’t sound good enough. I know I’m going to try to talk to her tonight, but I don’t want to mess it all up even more than I already have by saying something stupid.
“That looks better.” Savannah steps back and places her hands on her hips. She’s in her bridesmaid dress and all done up, since we’ve already taken pictures. “Now, dry your hair off and comb it or something.”
I had to strip down and take another shower after sweating through the photo session. I behaved and followed every direction, but never quite shook the thought of getting to see Mesa today. It’sallI’ve thought about.
With a smirk, I shake my damp hair back and forth like a dog, which makes Savannah squeal and shield her face. My role of shit-stirrer in this place hasn’t been filled by someone else, and for that I’m glad. That part of me is still in here somewhere. I just have to fix the rest before it can shine again like it used to.
“At least I’m not covered in sweat,” I say. “And I’ll have a hat on anyway.”
“I’m confused,” Warren interrupts from his seat by the window. He’s leaning back with his legs spread like he hates the suit he’s in as much as I hate mine. “I thought it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.”
We all look to the kitchen where Gage and Blythe are standing by a counter full of finger food and blushing at each other like a couple of—well, newlyweds. I don’t think there was ever a plan to use the bunkhouse as a bridal or groom’s suite. The girls took over all the bathrooms. The guys got changed out here. It’s been a mash-up of all of us since breakfast.
That’s us, I guess. It’d be weird if we were separated.
“They’ve been married in their heads since the day they laid eyes on each other. Disgusting, isn’t it?” Keanna jokes.
Blythe’s maid of honor flew in last night from Boston, but she’s been here before and knows her way around.
The jukebox plays while the wedding coordinator examines each of us to make sure that there are no final touches that need to be made. Two photographers sneak through the room snapping candid moments. Laughter bounces off the wooden beams in the ceiling, but I sit quietly for the most part.
Warren throws back half a shot, straight from a bottle, and then passes it to Heston, who’s standing nearby. I’ve never felt claustrophobic with a buzzing group of people before, but as the wedding gets closer, my neck itches and I’m tempted to go sit on the back porch for a gulp of fresh air.
My jaw works as I stare out the window. The sun hangs low as the last few arriving guests filter in across the field. My shoulders feel as tight as they were when I woke up this morning, but I roll them back anyway.
All I hear is laughter and the sound of happy people. I can’t get away from it, so I might as well join it.
“Alright,” I say, clapping my hands once. “Bets on who cries.”
“Easy,” Keanna says. “I’m taking Warren and every bridesmaid but me.”
Warren scoffs and moves to stand. “You’re on.”
Heston holds the bottle of whiskey in my direction, but I shake him off. Gage takes it from his hand instead and lifts it for a swig.
