She bent over to kiss him, a curtain of hair hiding their faces from view.
“Hey, I had to drag my grumpy brother’s ass out of the store. He would have turned me down if I invited him over to our place.”
Caitlyn glanced at me, eyebrow raised.
I shrugged. “Probably.”
Bad enough to be a third wheel in a public place, but I really didn’t want to cramp their style at home. They were about to be married. They didn’t need Branson’s brother intruding before they even got through their honeymoon phase.
“Still bummed about Silas?” she asked sympathetically.
I heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I wished we’d never broached the subject with Calista. I’d gone from disappointed to hopeless in one sentence. Silas had told me he didn’t date. He’d been cagey as fuck. But somehow I’d fooled myself into thinking I could change his mind.
But once the twin mess got cleared up, he’d shut the door between us and turned the key. I was locked out—like every other guy, apparently.
Caitlyn changed the subject. “Mom thinks we should change the appetizers to something more frou-frou.”
“Isn’t that all set?” Branson asked, an edge to his tone.
“Yeah. I told her that. I also told her we’re not frou-frou people. She’s concerned about impressing some of the ladies in town. She wants an invite to the bridge group. Apparently, all the popular ladies play together.”
“Well, let her impress them another way.”
“I’m trying,” Catilyn said. “You know, it’s been hard for her since my dad left. This wedding is giving her a distraction. I know it makes it a little frustrating for us, but she’s hurting.”
He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry if I’ve been impatient.”
“I mean, I’m impatient too,” Caitlyn said. “I get it.”
A server arrived with our plates, each holding a huge serving. The aroma instantly made my mouth water.
“The plates are hot, so be careful,” the young guy, a high school teenager by the looks of him, said. “Enjoy.”
“I hope you don’t mind I ordered for you,” Branson said. “I knew you loved their smothered pork chops.”
“Well, I was going to start eating salads to make sure I don’t outgrow my wedding dress, but I guess I can make an exception just this once.”
We all dug in, and Caitlyn and Branson continuedchatting about wedding plans. Their life had pretty much become consumed by these details, so I didn’t mind.
“I’ve got a call in to Kevin Rhodes,” Caitlyn said. “Apparently, he’s the best with makeup, and Mom keeps raving about him. Did you know we had a famous drag queen living in Granville?”
“No,” Branson said with a surprised chuckle. “Is your mom going to look like a drag queen at our wedding?”
Caitlyn smacked his arm. “No! She showed me some photos of his cosmetic work. It’s lovely. I’m thinking I should have him domymakeup, but then would you even recognize me?”
Caitlyn was a beautiful woman, but one of those natural beauties who didn’t bother with a lot of makeup or hairstyling. She was happiest with a ponytail or loose bun—maybe some curls on a special occasion—and a hint of pink in her cheeks from the sun.
“Darlin’, Branson can hardly handle you now,” I teased. “You get any more beautiful, and he’ll expire at the altar.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet, Bryson,” she said.
“Ha-ha,” Branson said. “One day you’ll be in my place. Watch it, because I’m saving up insults.”
I cracked a grim smile. “I think you’ll have a good long while to wait.”
“Maybe not,” Caitlyn said. Her gaze grew pointed. “You’ve been sulking pretty hard over Silas. I don’t think I’ve seen you hung up on anyone else like this since I’ve known you.”
