“I wanted to.”
I exhaled an imitation of a laugh. He’dwantedto. I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman, and the idea of not being with her made me feel like I was drowning, but oh, my little brotherwantedto care about her.
“You are a piece of work.”
“Yeah.” His smile seemed a little more genuine. “I’ve got to admit, I’m not real thrilled about my brother dating my ex-girlfriend.”
“You don’t get a say,” I said, my lungs burning in my chest. “And we’re not dating. We’re not anything.” My voice broke. It was the truth, but Lord, it felt like a lie. June was everything to me.
His smile disappeared again. “You really care about her.”
I shot him a glare. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Fine. You look awful. You want me to get you a glass of water or something?”
My vision swam. I put my hands on my knees, waiting for the dizziness to pass. I’d been on my feet more than half the day. Too long. The punch hadn’t done me any favors, either, but I couldn’t regret it.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “What do you need?”
A bottle of Tennessee whisky and about a hundred years to forget.
I brushed his hand away. “Get off me.”
Booker suddenly appeared beside us, a wide, fake smile on his face, and fire in his eyes.
“Gentlemen,” he said, as if breaking up a fight at the high school. “I am here on behalf of my future wife to let you know if you go on making a scene like this, she will murder you both with her bare hands.”
Over his shoulder, a few people in the dinner crowd cast cautious glances our way. Even if our shouting had been muffled by the music, the punch I’d thrown hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Dammit. The one thing June had asked of me was to make nice, for Eden and Booker’s sake. This wasn’t what she’d meant, but it clearly fell into thedon’t wreck the weddingcategory.
I straightened. He clapped me lightly on the shoulder, and I had to stifle a groan.
“Are you two done here?”
I looked at Bret, who had the sense to lose his default smirk. “We’re done.”
With another dab at his bloody lip, he nodded at Booker and walked away.
Concern pulled at Booker’s eyes and mouth as he glanced me over. “Are you okay?”
Was I okay? I might have just undone the last few weeks’ worth of my bones healing, but that wasn’t what had my chest feeling flayed and laid bare like it would never be whole again.
“I’m wrecked.”
He nodded. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink.”
THIRTY-SIX
june
I satin Jed’s truck, my arms tucked tight around my chest. I’d plastered on a fake smile through two long speeches, silently ticking down the minutes until the rehearsal dinner finally broke up for the night. I hadn’t looked for Ty, and he hadn’t come looking for me. I’d stared straight ahead and done my best not to have an emotional breakdown in front of all of Eden’s guests.
I should have been proud of myself for walking away from Ty—I’d wished more than once over the last year that I’d had the good sense to walk away from Bret. This time, I’d nipped it in the bud. No humiliation, no getting blindsided by a break-up, just a quick goodbye.
Instead of feeling like a badass, confident woman, every step I’d taken away from Ty had cracked a new fissure in my heart.
This was all my fault. If I’d been a little more logical and hadn’t chased after my feelings the way I always did, I might have avoided this crushing heartache. Ty had tried to tell me I was risking my heart, and what had I done? Ignored his practical advice and instead run headlong toward him.
