“Not at all.” Take your bulldog with you, please, I thought to myself.
Presley and Magnolia headed away from us, leaving West and me to talk construction details.
As we discussed who would do electricity and plumbing and how soon I could get them in, we both faced the large, open room, which made it easy for me to keep my eyes on Magnolia like I would a rattler coiled in the corner.
Her change in fortune when her father had kicked her out was evident in her wardrobe these days, I thought as I watched her slender body move away from us. Before, she’d generally dripped in prissy designer labels I didn’t know the first thing about, plus flawless makeup on her flawless face. In high school, I’d been intrigued by her, in spite of the superficial layers.
Today she was dressed more simply in a short skirt, a plain short-sleeved shirt, and boots that nearly reached her knees, showing off her legs. Her makeup was minimal, but she didn’t need it. I might not be able to stand her, but I couldn’t deny she would seem attractive to the casual acquaintance who’d never experienced her cold-hearted ways. I’d been sucked in once by her porcelain skin and gorgeous mane of strawberry-blond hair.
Never again.
“Luke,” West said in a low voice, “level with me. You gonna be okay working with her?”
“I’ll be just fine,” I said, allowing zero doubt to infiltrate my tone. “This is business.”
He sized me up from the side, my gaze still on the women, mainly to avoid his. I meant what I said, but it was damn hard to hide my feelings for Magnolia James.
“You’re one of my closest friends, but if anything fucks up this wedding for Presley…”
I grinned, even though I didn’t feel it. “I know, man. Don’t screw over your woman. I won’t. Even though I should since you left me the last single dad standing. Lucky for you, I like Presley.”
“But not Magnolia.”
“I don’t have to like her to work with her. My stakes are high here, man. Whether she’s part of it or not, I need this to work. I need this to work well, or I’ll never hear the end of it from my dad.”
“He’s still not on board, huh?”
I shook my head. “He won’t be, probably not even if I turn this into a six-figure business.”
“What’s his deal? He doesn’t like money?”
“He’s all about the land. Tradition. The way we’ve always done things.”
“Times change,” West said. “For what it’s worth, I’m damn glad you’re doing it. Can you imagine me at the fancy-schmancy Marks Hotel? I’d do it if Presley insisted on it, but this place… It’s gonna fit us better.”
“You definitely belong in a barn,” I cracked.
“Asshole,” he said, laughing. He sobered. “So I have a question for you.”
“Seems to be the theme of the day,” I said, frowning at Magnolia as she and Presley walked back toward us.
“You think you can pull off being the venue owner as well as one of my groomsmen?”
I shot my gaze to him to make sure he was serious. “You asking me to stand up for you?”
“Seems like it,” he said, his hands in his front pants pockets as if he felt awkward.
“Hell yes, I’ll be a groomsman. Even if you did betray our single-guy pact.”
“We didn’t have a pact,” he said as if I was a drama queen, and maybe I was, but it sucked with a capital S to be the last guy in our group to find a wife.
The painful irony? Out of the six of us in the once-single-dad group—West, Max, Knox, Ben, Chance, and me—I was the only sad sack who actually wanted to get married. My involvement with Addie’s mom had barely lasted a year and a half. I was ready for a lifelong partner.
The joke was on me, obviously.
West held his hand out for me to shake. I took it, and we did the man-hug, back-smack thing.
“Thanks, Luke. It means the world,” he said. “Chance is my other groomsman.”
