"You're not sitting in my seat, Gigi," he replied softly.
The moment shifted, a weight sliding over us like the heavy, black clouds outside pressing the sky down, down into the city. Riley and I didn't do heavy. If we did, we did it with a thick layer of humor. No big emotional moments, no exposed souls. We made outrageous bets over sports and argued about renovations and sandwiches. This wasn't how we operated and I wanted it to stop.
If it didn't stop right now, I'd have to turn around and face the century of growth I'd crammed into recent months. I wasn't ready to look back at the path behind me. I wasn't ready for the full frontal view of my mistakes and missteps.
"Hey, you're engaged!" I yelled, swatting his arm to break the spell. "You're getting married! We haven't talked about this yet!"
"Has it been that long since I've seen you? That's old news," he said.
"Give me the whole engagement story, not just the cute pics and captions Alex posted on Facebook. She's adorable, by the way."
"She really is," he agreed. "She's at some doctor conference this weekend. She told me I could go along with her but I didn't want to accidentally see surgery photos or walk in on something bloody. But now I kinda wish I'd gone."
"Great," I said flatly. "Glad I'm such good company."
"I didn't mean it like that," he argued.
"I know, I know," I said. "Okay, I want the story. When did you pop the question?"
"Opening day at Fenway," he replied with a nod. "It wasn't the plan but there were some extenuating circumstances that forced my hand." He blinked up at the game. "It was Batman underwear. Batman panties forced my hand. No regrets though. It was time and I'm happy."
"Have you set a date or made any plans or—" My gaze darted to the bar door as it opened, filling the room with the sound of thunder and pouring rain. Through the doorway came a group of soaked men, all busy wiping away the rain and wringing out their clothes and complaining about the downpour. Just as I started to needle Riley for wedding details, one of the men pulled a ball cap from his head. He looked up and our eyes met across the bar.
Ben.
I hadn't realized I'd missed him this week until seeing him now. Despite his soggy condition, a warm grin pulled at his lips. I motioned him over but he was already striding in our direction, his wet shoes squeaking as he walked.
"Are you even listening to me complain about these shenanigans? Her family truly, honestly believes we're going to roll on out to Nevada and get married in some randomly significant chapel despite the fact Alex has no desire to do that. It's a whole thing and I'm beginning to think my sister Shannon had the right idea with eloping." Riley paused, turning to follow my gaze. He spotted Ben and both eyebrows shot up. "What is this shambles?"
"What kind of magic are you, pretty girl?" Ben asked as he approached. "Because I was just thinking about you and here you are."
He stepped between me and Riley, and leaned in to press a kiss on my temple. "Look at you," I murmured, pushing damp hair off his forehead.
"Please do," he replied. "I really was thinking about you. I was gonna call you once I got out of that storm. See if I could take you out tonight. Dinner, movie, whatever you want."
Riley cleared his throat. "Which one is this?"
I dropped my hand onto Ben's hard—but very wet—chest and eased him back. "Ben, this is one of my best friends and occasional business partner Riley Walsh. Riley, this is Ben Brock. He's renovating the house across the street from mine. When he's not running the tile saw at all hours, he's fighting fires."
The men shook hands, regarding each other with a metric ton of skepticism. I loved it.
"Riley was just telling me about his upcoming wedding," I said. "He proposed on opening day. Can't imagine anything better."
That did the trick. Ben's grin returned and he nodded, saying, "Nothing better than opening day."
"Yeah, well, nothing better than finding the right girl," Riley murmured. He reached into his back pocket and pulled a few bills from his wallet. He tossed them on the bar, glanced at me. "I'm heading out now." He turned to face Ben, clapping his palm on the other man's shoulder. "There are a lot of spots in this town to bury a body and I keep a shovel in my car. You feel me, son?"
"Believe it," Ben replied.
Riley shifted off the barstool and gifted Ben with another smack on the back. "Good," Riley replied. He pointed at me. "Text me this week. I need your advice on my North End project. It's shenanigans left and right."
"Andy already told me all about it," I replied. "I think I blocked some time on Wednesday to check it out."
"Lunch?" he asked.
"Of course," I said. "Stay dry out there."
Riley held up his hand in a wave and left us at the bar. Ben reached for my beer, taking a pull before glancing back to me.
