* * *
It was hopeless.
The number of times that Rosie and I accidentally locked eyes while the ceremony happened, I lost count.
It’s a heavy feeling.
Even the dog running down the aisle only to lie down between Hailey and Oliver while they recited their vows couldn’t cause me to laugh.
Am I grumpy person?
Normally not. I enjoy the occasional joke.
Rosie, on the other hand, everything is sunshine and butterflies and probably rainbows and unicorns too.
Now it’s night and there are candles floating in my parents’ pool. The setting is an extra reminder how two people can be so in love that they celebrate it many ways.
Keats lands himself next to me with a small plate of food in his hand. “Nice little surprise… your ex-wife. Heard it was without warning, too.” It’s Keats. A coy grin is on his face purely from entertainment.
“Something like that,” I duly reply.
We stand side by side and, ah hell, it happens again. My sight gravitates to Rosie who is laughing with Hailey about something. Her laugh trails away when she sees me, and I whip my eyes away.
“Heard you are finally running for mayor since old man Boyle decided to retire.”
“My parents have been plotting my campaign for who knows how long with the expectation this would happen. In four years, it will probably be for Congress.” At first, it drove me bananas. I thought it was a crazy idea. However, the idea of mayor began to win me over. I would be good at it, and I know this town and county like the back of my hand. We’re a small town, and I know city council meetings discuss the most trivial of topics. A new park bench was the last debate. As Sheriff I know everyone, and I’m always updated on the latest town gossip, but I’m behind a wall of law. Mayor would be the same, minus not having to worry about issuing a ticket or throwing someone into jail.
“But yeah, I’m going to do it. I have a good chance, and it’s a chapter to add to my life,” I explain. Something to partly fill the void that seems present in my life.
Keats slaps a hand on my shoulder. “That’s great to hear. You have my vote.”
“Thanks.” Maybe I don’t sound too chipper.
I notice his eyes slide between me and somewhere in the distance to my side. It’s a few moments before he tips his head in the direction of Rosie. “Just go walk away somewhere to talk. Really talk. I mean, I saw you before with her and it seemed cozy enough.”
I take a long sip of the whiskey that I opted for in place of that awful cocktail.
Keats begins to chuckle to himself. “Well, problem solved.” He tips his head in Rosie’s direction.
Quickly, I look. “Ah shit.” My mother is nearly tugging Rosie along. Rosie seems unsure and is by no means eagerly following, but my mother is too persistent.
“Have fun,” Keats mutters as he toasts my glass before he walks away.
“Carter,” my mom greets me with a bright lipstick-covered smile to accompany her peach-colored dress. “Look who I found.” She almost shoves Rosie at me. “Oh, dear.” She pretends to look over my shoulder. “The caterer seems to need my attention. I’m sure you two can have a pleasant catch-up.”
Before anyone can protest, my mom is scurrying away, leaving Rosie and me be.
Our eyes both follow my mom’s steps in astonishment at her obvious ballsy interruption.
In unison, we look at one another, and I’m desperate to hide my genuine desire to laugh; instead, I present a tight smile.
“Subtle as always,” I grit out.
Rosie can’t help it and chortles a laugh, ignoring my steely demeanor. “It’s kind of entertaining. I’m happy that I stuck around.” She realizes her innocent words strikes a chord.
Without a question, she grabs the drink from my hand and downs it dry. She must be nervous around me.
My brows knit together, and my jaw flexes side to side to lock in my entertained grin. “Flustered?”
