“Well, we’ve narrowed it down to two colors, but we need your opinion,” Gavin says. I shake my head with a smile.
“No, actually we were still deciding. I mean, I was deciding on the best colors for the wedding. I have some thoughts based on the scenery and the natural hues in the mountains.”
“We were thinking about these two,” Gavin cuts me off and hands the two swatches to Holly. The blush and mustard-green olive look all wrong together.
“These two?” she asks.
“Together?” Ben asks.
“Gavin thought the olive was interesting. I was in the middle of putting together a spreadsheet of pinks and burgundies and–”
“I love it,” Holly says, and I stop.
“You…what?” I ask.
“I love it,” she laughs. “It’s so retro and vintage. It’s perfect! Ben, don’t you love it?” she asks.
“I love anything you love,” he says, and she plants a kiss on his cheek before grinning at us.
“You two are the best. Amazing. From now on, I want both of you to work together on all the details of the wedding!”
My jaw unhinges; she can’t be serious.
“I…I usually work alone,” I say.
“But now you don’t have to,” Holly says. “It was a lot for you to take on considering how uninvolved Benny and I are and with the wedding being super soon. Now you don’t have so much pressure!”
“It’s nothing, really,” I insist.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Ben says. “We’ll still pay you the same. Right dad?”
My eyes drag over fromBennyto shirtless Gavin who is grinning as usual because why wouldn’t he be? “Of course. Penny for penny.”
“Perfect!” Holly squeals, hugging me again. Then her phone goes off. “Oh! That’s my sister! Brunch time!”
And with that, they’re gone, leaving me and Gavin alone with two clashing color swatches and a thousand broken dreams.
Chapter 15
Gavin
I would be lyingif I said that any of this is a walk through the tulips for me.
It’s wild watching your son get married. Holly is perfect for him. The two of them remind me of when me and Allie first met. Carefree and wild with ambition, with the whole world at our feet.
After a few years, we settled down some. Allie was very fun-loving, but she was also sensible. It was her sensibility that pulled me back to my feet when my head got too close to the clouds. She grounded me.
I will be the first to admit that losing Allie made me less fun-loving and carefree. I haven’t been in a serious relationship since. Hell, I haven’t been inanyrelationship since. I think it’s safe to say that I am in a bit of a construction zone when it comes to relationships.
Charlotte is a wrecking ball I couldn’t see coming.
I am at The Pour House, a hole in the wall Irish Pub that I frequent whenever I just want to shoot the shit and shoot someshots too. And not with women. This isn’t the Cantina. It’s not a cocktail lounge. It’s a bar with good food, good service, dark beer, and no agenda other than to decompress.
“You look like shit,” AJ, the usual bartender, says to me. He’s in his thirties with scraggly hair, tattoos, a nose ring, and an Irish accent.
“Thanks,” I grin as I pull up a stool. “I feel like shit.”
“So whiskey or beer?” he asks.
