Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
EPILOGUE
My heart is pounding in my chest as the string quartet begins to play. My dress is a little too tight. I blame my boys for constantly encouraging me to have bigger portions. It's as though they want to fill me with love and food, twenty-four-seven.
I turn, watching little Brett walk up the aisle, holding the hands of his second cousins, Tommy and Thai. At the front, Brett's fathers wait patiently for their bride to appear.
And then she does.
Connie's dress isn't the traditional floor-length white lace gown. Instead, she's opted for a knee-length cocktail-style dress in powder blue. She told me it's the color she was wearing the day she met her husbands-to-be. Plus, she doesn't see the point of trying to pretend she's a Disney princess for the day. She's already a mother. Those days are behind her.
She grins broadly at Karter, Kane, Holden, and Harris, dressed in identical gray suits but in ties of different colored blue. Brett is at the front, and he runs to hug the nearest daddy, gripping onto Karter's legs and burying his head there.
It's so exciting to be here, knowing that Connie and her men have weathered a lot of difficulties in their relationship and have managed to come this far. It gives me hope that whatever life throws in my direction, my men will be there too.
My heart is beating fast, not just from the romance and the anticipation of Connie's happy-ever-after, but also because I know that the after-party is my responsibility. The Banburys wanted our organic farm produce to be at the center of their wedding, and how could I say no? It was Connie who planted the idea that bloomed into our relationship, after all. Connie who gave me six months before she was going to swoop in with another woman for the Bradfords. Not that jealousy played much of a role. They convinced me with their hearts and a few other things that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
Cash's hand squeezes my knee. "Relax. It's all going to be fine. The caterers have done a great job, and you know everything that comes from Cooper's Farm is the absolute best."
He's so proud of me and everything I've achieved over the past eighteen months that it brings a tear to my eye.
The ceremony is fun and lighthearted. The Banburys surprise Connie with who is going to be taking the official vows. Apparently, they've kept it a secret from her for a year and a half. Kane is the one who steps forward, and Connie's hand flies to her mouth. She told me he asked if it could be him but that they were going to draw straws to make it fair. I guess he got what he wanted in the end.
It's sweet that it's him. He was the first of the brothers that she spoke to. The one who's flirting ended in a relationship that is now permanent. As they say their vows, a hush spreads across the congregation. Karter rests his hand on his brother's shoulder, and then Holden and Harris do the same. Kane is saying the words, but they are meant by all of them.
And it couldn't be more beautiful.
Afterward, we gather in the marquee that's been set up on the grounds of the small community hall in Hope Springs. The wedding organizer has done a fabulous job of turning the low-key venue into something really special. The chairs are covered in white slips with powder-blue bows. The tables are overflowing with huge displays of wildflowers. There's a cupcake in a box on each place setting with a thank you from the bride and grooms. The caterers have set up the food at a buffet table in the corner, and it looks amazing.
"See," Holden says, nudging me. "I told you everything would be fine."
"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," I reply.
"Did someone say eating?" Sawyer says.
"He's always first at the buffet," Scott says with a roll of his eyes. "He has absolutely no restraint."
"I don't think you should go there," Cary says. "You were hardly the model of patience last night."
Scott has the decency to blush at the way he practically tackled his brothers out of the way in the bedroom last night, and I snigger at their back-and-forth. I love listening to my men tease each other and laugh it off. It proves how close their bond is every day.
Before I can follow Sawyer as he blazes a trail toward the food, there's a tap on my shoulder.
"There you are," Connie says, tugging me into a perfumed hug. Her make-up is so natural, but there is still something special there that makes her glow. Maybe it's just cleverly placed blusher, or maybe it's the internal radiance that comes with being a bride.
"You look stunning," I say. "Just perfect."
"I feel amazing," she gushes. "It's like every one of my dreams has come true. Honestly, I didn't know saying a few words in front of friends and family would make everything feel so different, but it has." She glances over my shoulder at where my men are gathered, talking with their other first cousins, Max, Mason, and Miller. I swear there is something in the DNA of that family that forges only men. "Anyway, it'll be you next," she whispers.
"It will," I say, showing her my very pretty engagement ring.
"Oh my God!" she squeals, holding up my hand to survey the sparkling stones. "I can't believe you kept that a secret. Especially as I was instrumental in all of this." Connie waves her hand around to encompass me, my men, and her best friend Natalie too. It would seem that Connie enjoys her role as matchmaker. "You're just lucky I left you to it and didn't drag my friend Sandy in as competition."
"I am. Where is Sandy? Half of me feels like I should apologize for intercepting her men."
"There were never hers," Connie laughs. "I knew from the moment I saw y'all together that they were yours. You just didn't know it yourself yet. Anyway, poor Sandy's car broke down on route, so she's going to miss the whole thing. She's holed up in a small town about three hours away."
"Oh no. Poor Sandy."
"She's devastated to be missing your special cheese. I gave her some the last time we were together, and she hasn't stopped raving about it. In fact, I think she passed some on to her friend who's a food buyer."
"She did what?"
"She passed your cheese onto a buyer. I swear, Melanie. It's so good it needs to be in grocery stores everywhere."
"I don't have the capacity to produce it on that scale," I say as my chest tightens.
"Not yet, you don't," Connie winks. "Anyway, I need to work my way around all of these guests, but I just wanted to thank you in person for making my dreams come true with the food." She kisses my cheek and squeezes my upper arms, then turns and disappears into the crowd in a puff of powder blue.
"What was all that about?" Scott says.
"Connie's friend has put the cheese forward to a major buyer."
"Well, that's it," he laughs. "You're going to be a cheese mogul, and then you won't be interested in us lowly ranchers anymore."
"Firstly, I have no idea what a cheese mogul is, and secondly, I think you're forgetting something."
"Oh yeah! What's that."
I flash my ring finger in front of his place. "You're kind of stuck with me now."
He grabs me, pulling me into a fierce hug before pressing a hard kiss onto my forehead. "No, baby. You're stuck with us."
"Well, I guess that’s gonna make me a cheese mogul and a rancher's wife," I say, laughing.
"Rancher's wife. Now why do I like that sound of that so much," he laughs.
We spend the rest of the day eating, drinking, and being very merry. The kids are the first on the dancefloor, tripping over the adults who are dusting off their slow-dancing skills. The buffet looks like it's been stripped by locusts, and Connie and the Banburys look happier than any bride and groom I've ever seen.
And always, by my side, stand my five gorgeous ranchers. I thought they were ruthless. I thought they'd ruined my life, but as it turns out, they've made me the happiest woman in the room, and that is saying something!
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1
SANDY
The road stretches in front of me, empty except for a huge truck in the distance. It's hot, but the air-conditioning is keeping me cool. I'm thankful because I want to arrive at Connie's wedding looking fresh, not a sweaty crumpled mess.
I have a small suitcase in the trunk just in case I need to stay over. I haven't booked anything, which is stupid, but money is about to get really tight. I figure there'll be a room available somewhere if I need one.
The music blasting on the stereo makes me tap my fingers on the wheel. I've always loved 1970's disco. The classics make me want to get up and dance, but it's been a long time since I hit a club. My friends are all settled down now with job responsibilities, boyfriends, or husbands. Now the only time I get to dance is at weddings, and each one that passes makes me feel more and more of a failure.
My mind wanders where I don't want it to venture, back to the last night I spent with Tyler. He's the last man I allowed into my bed and the last man I trusted with my heart. It didn't end well, and even just a fleeting thought about what happened four years ago sets off an ache in my chest that is hard to push away.
I focus on the song lyrics, starting to sing along even though I know I sound loud and tuneless. There's no one here to listen to my awful voice, and singing lifts my spirits. At least it works until the car starts to fill with smoke, and I'm forced to pull over in a panic. As I scramble out of my old Lexus, I have the sense to grab my purse from the passenger seat. If it's going to go up in flames, I need my phone.
On the side of the road, I glance back the way I came, hoping a friendly person might be coming up behind me, and then reconsider. It could be dangerous. So many true crime stories start this way with a woman in a vulnerable position. I grab my phone from my bag, walking a little further from the car. There are no signs of flames, so I'm wondering if it's the car's cooling system that has ruptured. What I thought was smoke must have been steam.
Running a quick search, I find a local garage that's only two miles away. Deep Repairs. It seems like an odd name, but I couldn't care less what it's called so long as they can come and rescue me and the car and fix it up quickly.
A deep husky voice says, "Deep Repairs, how can I help you?" and I quickly explain what's happened. The guy tells me they'll be with me in twenty minutes, and when I hang up, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Twenty minutes feels like twenty hours standing in my silver heels and strapless dusky pink dress by the side of this dusty road. People drive past, but thankfully no one stops. I guess the good Samaritan is a concept relegated to the past. When the repair truck is visible in the distance, I practically sing again with happiness.
The driver pulls in front of my vehicle, emerging from the cab of the truck hidden behind a baseball cap and sunglasses. The grey shirt he's wearing hugs his broad chest and muscular arms, leaving nothing to the imagination. There's grease on his forearms and a tattoo too.
A tattoo that looks familiar.
When he focuses on me, he stops dead like someone shot him in the chest, the ready smile on his lips falling away as he recognizes me at the same time that I recognize him.
"Sandy?"
His rich, deep voice sends a shiver through my whole body, not of fear but of awareness. It's like every molecule of my body knows this man and is drawn to him.
"Tyler?" It comes out as a question, too, even though I know it's definitely him. Tears burn behind my eyes and in my throat. Tears of anger, of betrayal, of disappointment so deep it cut me open so wide that I've never been able to fully repair myself.
This man was responsible for my happiest days and my most blissful moments. He filled me with light and laughter and hope, and then he disappeared, and all I was left with was the ghost of what we were when we were together and a million unanswered questions.
How could he leave me? How could he not tell me he was going? Did he ever love me? Was it real or all just a cleverly crafted lie?
My hands tremble at my sides, and I clasp them in front of me, not wanting to give anything away. Our days of sharing everything are so deep in the past that they feel like something I watched at the movies, not something that actually happened to me.
Tyler's hand goes to his jaw, and he rubs his stubble in the way he always used to when he was thinking. I guess he's as lost about how to be as I am. "So, you've broken down?"
My eyebrows draw up, and my eyes widen. Is he seriously going to ignore the giant elephant sitting between us and pretend everything is fine?
He rounds my car, opening the driver's side door and popping the hood before I can reply. I totter in my ridiculous shoes, watching as he ducks his head over my frazzled engine, taking comfort as he always did in the simple mechanics of metal and grease, pushing emotions aside.
"I'm going to have to tow you?" Tyler says, dropping the bonnet so that it clanks noisily back into place.
"Okay."
"Jump into the truck while I hook it up."
I stand for a moment, gawping at this man who, apart from the initial shock of seeing me, seems totally unaffected by my presence. How can he be so cool, calm, and collected when I feel like my skin is going to peel away at the sight of him?
Then I remember it was his decision to leave me. He must have known for a while what he was going to do. Maybe on the last night that we slept together, when I thought that I was feeling real love in his fingertips, in his mind, he was already gone.
Pulling myself together, I turn and stride to the front of his truck, pulling the door open and climbing up with as much grace as I can manage. When the door is closed, I sink into the seat, clutching my purse on my knee like I would cradle a child.
How is this happening? I thought about him, and then he was there—there in all his overwhelmingly gorgeous glory. The years have been good to Tyler. He's grown into his manhood in a way that calls to the primal, animal part of my brain, filling me with self-loathing. There's not a hair on his head that deserves any response from me, let alone a sexual one.
The trouble is that Tyler was always good at setting me on fire. He could make me come with just his dick and his words, and I know from talking to my friends that it's an unusual skill. I reckon I could have come just from looking at his naked body and listening to all of the filthy things he would whisper in my ear.
He's broader and thicker now. The muscles I used to trace with my fingertips while he slept are rounder and stronger. There's more a swagger to the way he walks and an extra gruffness to his voice. Any boyishness that remained when we were together is long gone.
This man I knew more intimately than I've ever known another human being is a stranger to me, and it devastates me over again.
I watch in the mirror as he attaches my car to the truck and lifts it onto the flatbed. He's precise in his movements, so we're ready to leave more quickly than I was anticipating. As he starts to round the side of the truck, I smooth my hair and fasten my seatbelt, inhaling and holding a deep breath.
When he throws open the door, my heart skitters, and when he hauls himself into the cab next to me, his scent floods me with memories.
Memories I thought I'd left behind but still feel as raw as they did in the past.
Memories that I wish I could forget. Except I can't. They're as etched onto my skin and into my life as deeply as they are in my mind. There's no forgetting Tyler Evans. There never was, and there never will be.
"So…" He turns the key in the ignition, and the radio bursts to life. Except it isn't just the radio. He's playing 70s disco, which he always used to tease me about liking in the past. Our eyes meet through the dark of his glasses, and it's like a bolt of electricity running through me. Then he flicks the music off, puts the truck into gear, and pulls onto the road.
I guess I'm not the only one still thinking about the past.