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Only…she proposed marriage to me to get revenge on her sister and to inherit her family vineyard, and that thought will forever be cemented at the forefront of my interactions with her.
Something peeks through, though. A memory. Her lips beneath mine, soft and pillowy. It’s a fever dream, maybe. If I really kissed her, I’d remember it, wouldn’t I?
“Excuse me,” I say to Lincoln, and then I stride across the room to slip my arm around her waist.
It feels like the natural, right thing to do, just as it feels natural and right when she leans into me a little at the feel of me beside her. The sweet scent of vanilla wafts up from her hair.
“I’m just meeting your wife,” Asher says, nodding to Grace.
“Yes, Grace,” I say to him.
She glances up at me, likely at my clipped tone, and then she reaches out a hand for Asher to shake. “Lovely to meet you.”
“Asher,” he says with a nod. “The youngest and best of the four Nash boys.”
Mom elbows him in the ribs with an eye roll. “Definitely the one with the strangest fashion sense.”
He glances down at his tracksuit. “It’s an inside joke between Grayson and me,” he admits, and thank God it’s something like that rather than a genuine attempt at looking good—though I wouldn’t put that past him, either.
The bartender is pouring a glass of red.
“Can you pour a second one of those?” I ask.
He nods and grabs another glass, and then he hands them over the bar. Naturally, Grace picks up one, and I pick up the other.
“Matching drinks already. How sweet,” Asher says, teasing in his tone.
But between the hangover and the strangeness of today, I’m not in the mood for it.
“Fuck off,” I snap at him, and Mom rolls her eyes while Grace stiffens at my side.
“Here comes the bride,” Asher says, nodding toward the door.
This time, I stiffen. And then my dad starts making his way over toward us.
Jesus.
It’s one hit after another.
“Eddie Nash,” he says to Grace. “And you are?”
“Grace,” she says softly.
“Your new daughter-in-law,” Mom says pointedly.
I blow out a breath. “Can we save all that for another time? This is Grayson’s weekend.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you got drunk and took a car to a chapel,” Dad points out.
So that’s how it’s gonna go.
Instead of responding, I turn, my arm still wrapped around Grace, and choose to walk away. I’m just not sure exactly where I’m heading. Lincoln is in one corner shooting me wary glances. Grayson is in the doorway, avoiding eye contact with me altogether while he greets his guests. And Mom, Dad, and Asher are at the bar with their quips and jokes at the ready.
I chug down the wine, suddenly sure there’s not enough wine in this bar for me to get through this night unscathed.
But I guess I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.
I empty my glass, which does nothing in terms of helping me feel any differently, but at least it’s taking the edge off.
