Every Glance (Every Life #3) (33 page)

“Don’t forget that I need shoes, too,” Devyn reminds me, walking through the living room.

“Like I could ever forget the shoes,” I joke. I reach out to take her hand as she approaches. “Stan…Ella… this is Devyn Rion. With clothes on, this time.”

I’m swatted by both Devyn and Ella while Stan just cackles.

Ella drags her into an embrace and squeezes her a little longer than would be comfortable for most. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she, Stan? And look at this hair. I used to have hair like this. Is that curl natural? Dalton, I don’t know how you scored this one. She’s just too pretty.”

“That’s enough, El.” Stan rescues Devyn by tugging Ella’s arms free, but he ends up hugging her, too. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart. I know your father. Nice man.”

“He is. Thank you. It’s nice to meet both of you.”

Ella tucks a chunk of hair behind her ear and leans a hip against the counter. “We love Dalton, and he’s like a son to us. It makes me happy to see the two of you together.”

“Ella just thinks I’m hot. She told me so.” I nudge Ella with my elbow, and she shoves back at me, nearly causing me to lose my balance. “Come on, Stan, back me up here. You heard her.”

He turns to Devyn and shakes his head. “These two really should be related. They both act like a couple of idiots.”

“Wait until you get to know, Stan,” Ella pipes up. “He’s a bigger idiot than both of us put together.”

We only have time to chat for a few more minutes before it’s time to go, but I can already tell that Ella really likes Devyn. She’s had more to say to her than she ever has
any
of my girlfriends. I’m just going to try to forget that she even mentioned the word “grandchild” when Simon was brought up. And unless you’re presenting with a cough, stuffy nose, laceration, or want to talk about healthy cholesterol levels, Stan isn’t much of the social type, but even he has talked to Devyn quite a bit.

We make it to Devyn’s house about fifteen minutes before Simon does, so she goes upstairs to change while I walk around to check everything out. It’s weird that I’ve only been to her house once before, and it wasn’t exactly the best situation.

Her house is very different from mine, and to be honest, it doesn’t seem much like her either. It’s too…stuffy. It’s overly decorated with overpriced furniture, and she must have a housekeeper because I don’t see a speck of dust on anything. It seems like a smaller version of her parents’ house. I could be wrong; maybe she likes this sort of thing. But I’d like to think I know her better than this, even as short of a time as we’ve been together.

I hear the squeal of brakes outside, so I step out onto the front porch just in time to see Simon jumping off the bottom step onto the curb.

“No way!” He sprints through the yard and up onto the porch. “Mom said I might be able to come see you, but I didn’t know you’d be at my house. This is cool!”

I bend down to hug him. “Hey, buddy. I have to take your mom dress shopping, so I thought maybe you could come along to keep me company. I think I’m going to need a wing man for this trip.
And
I have something important to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

This kid. He’s like a fifty year old man, trapped in an adorable little mop-headed boy’s body sometimes.

“Well, I have to take your mom dress shopping because she’s going with me to my best friend’s wedding tomorrow, and we also have to go to the rehearsal tonight. I thought it’d be cool to have you come with us if you want to. My friends would love to meet you, and there’s going to be lots of cake.”

He taps his chin and shifts his blue eyes from side to side. “Hmm…I’m not really the wedding type, but I do like cake. Do you know what kind it is?”

“No,” I laugh, feeling it all the way to my core.

“Well,” he says, continuing his contemplation. “I guess I could go. I did just get a new comic strip bow tie that I could wear. It has onomatopoeia on it, like ‘Pow!’ and ‘Zonk!’ on it.”

Only this kid would use a word like onomatopoeia in general conversation. “I think that sounds perfect. Let’s go rush your mom, so we can make it to the rehearsal on time.”

As I watch Simon run into the house with his backpack swishing across his back, I smile, thinking about what life could be like with him and Devyn in it.

“Yeah, I think it’s going to be pretty damn cool,” I say quietly, following him inside. “And I can’t wait to find out.”

“I STILL DON’T understand what it is about barns that make women want to get married in them,” I say under my breath as I pull into the long gravel drive, knowing Sawyer can hear me.

“Well,” he chuckles, “I look at it this way. It could be in a stuffy church. Besides, you have to admit that it’s a damn nice barn. I don’t even think it can be classified as a barn, really, considering it has a few bedrooms, bathrooms, and a full kitchen. I think it was built for this purpose.”

“At least it’s not a chicken house,” I joke. I shake my head, still unable to comprehend the idea. But it’s not my wedding. “Just a few hours left of bachelorhood. Are you nervous?”

Sawyer waits until we’re out of the car to answer. “No, not really. I’m ready to be married and all that, but I would’ve preferred to elope or something. It’s standing up in front of all of those damn people today that’s going to be hard.”

“Dude, seriously?” I follow him through the back door that leads into the kitchen. “Just last weekend you were up on a stage in front of a couple thousand people.”

“That’s different. I had a guitar and a microphone.”

“You’ll be fine,” I say, slapping him on the back. “Oh! Before everyone else gets here, I want to give you something.” I reach deep into my pocket and wrap my fingers around the metal warmed from my body. “William’s pocket watch. I went and picked it up from the nursing home this morning. I thought you might want to have it with you today.”

Sawyer’s mouth forms a ghost of a smile. “That’s awesome. Thank you.” He pushes the button to open the clasp, and the cover springs up, revealing a worn watch face. When William started losing his sight, he removed the glass from it, so he could feel where the hands were to tell the time. “I never even thought about it, so I’m glad you did. Having this will make today even better.”

“I thought it would, too. Where’s our dressing room? Stall number one or stall number two?” I peek out of the kitchen to look around the main room, and it actually does look nice. There are billows of gauzy, white fabric suspended from the ceiling and stretching down to pool in the floor, and there are probably a couple hundred candles around the room—damn, it’s going to be hot up there. But I should probably keep to myself that there are at least five-hundred chairs in here; Sawyer just might bolt.

“Real funny, jackass. It’s back here,” he says, continuing through the kitchen and into a long hallway. This definitely
isn’t
a barn. This place is nicer than Devyn’s house. “Guys are in the back room, and the girls are up front.” He pauses to check his watch. “Shit, the photographer will be here in fifteen minutes to get pictures of me that Mak insisted on, so I have to hurry up and get dressed. Our tuxes should already be in the closet.”

He pushes through the door to reveal a huge bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed and a sitting area with two sofas and a television. It’s decorated simply but elegantly in rich chocolate browns and pale blues.

I slip my phone out of my pocket while Sawyer begins dragging everything out of the closet. Devyn texted me while we were on the road, so I haven’t had the chance to read it yet.

Devyn:
‘We’re on our way, so we should be there in an hour. Thank you for understanding last night. He’s still not saying anything about it, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. Can’t wait to see you.”

Ah, last night. What an adventure that was.

Me:
‘Be careful, and don’t worry about it. I’ll try to talk to him later, too, if you want me to. See you soon. I’ll be the hot guy in a tux.’

Maybe Simon will talk to me about what was eating at him last night. At least, I hope so. Everything started out great. He acted excited about hanging out with me, and he was quite the ball of fire at the rehearsal. He talked everyone’s ears off and was running around with a couple of other kids, having a blast. Once we got back to his house, though, things slowly took weird turn.

Devyn made him take a bath, so by the time he got out, Devyn and I were sitting on the couch watching some crime drama that she’s into, so she turned on a movie that Simon would like. He climbed in between us, resting his head on my shoulder and kicking his feet up on her. Simon even laughed when Devyn made the comment about how she had been demoted because she was now only worthy of holding his smelly feet.

But out of nowhere, he said he wanted to go to bed and his eyes were brimmed with tears. Devyn pressed him for an explanation of his sudden mood change, but he’d only say he was tired. The real kicker was when he wanted Devyn to go lie down with him, as if he
wanted
me to leave.

Even when I left, he just ignored me. I told him goodbye and that I’d see him today, and he just shrugged. Devyn said he was probably just deliriously exhausted after our long day, but I’ve never seen him act that way before.

“We might have a problem. I don’t see your shirt in here.” Sawyer’s voice is already strained. It’s not going to take much to tip him over the edge today.

I stand and join him. “Mak told me she brought everything here last night.” I hear familiar female voices echoing down the hall. “I think that’s her and Cal now. I’ll go see if she knows where it might be. Otherwise, I’ll do the Chippendale thing and just wear a tie.”

He huffs. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s precisely the wedding theme Makenna had in mind. Do me a favor and tell her that I said ‘elephant shoe.’”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Sawyer grins. “Just an inside joke of sorts. Just tell her. She’ll understand.”

I nod and slip out the door, making sure that Sawyer can’t see anything going on in the hallway. I never have understood the superstition about the bride and groom seeing each other before the wedding, but Sawyer has talked a lot about that pivotal moment when he sees Makenna coming down the aisle. The beginning of the rest of their lives and all that. I can’t ruin it for him.

Following the sound of the cackling hens—otherwise known as Makenna and Callie, I peck on the door of their room, noticing the voices immediately falling to hushed tones. The knob turns slightly, and the door opens barely enough to see part of a bright blue eye peeking out at me.

“What do you want, Hoover?” Callie barks. “Don’t you know we’re in DEFCON one, wedding crisis mode in here? Too much to do and no time to goof off.”

I hold my palms up. “This isn’t a social call. My shirt is missing.”

“Oh, shoot,” Makenna grumbles and jerks the door the rest of the way open. Her hair is wrapped around the fat rollers positioned all over her head. “It must be in here. Come in and shut the door.”

Callie sits at a small vanity and begins dabbing some nude-colored cream on her cheeks, and Makenna darts across the room and into the closet. She extracts two shirts draped in clear plastic. “One is my dad’s and the other must be yours. Do you remember what size yours is?”

I study the tags on each and shake my head. “I really don’t.”

“Well, we don’t have time to discuss it. Strip and try both of them on.” She shoves both of them at me.

“You didn’t get a stripper at your bachelorette party, so this must be your final attempt at a little last-minute action, huh?” I grab the hem of my shirt and tug it up and over my head.

Callie snickers, delicately brushing a charcoal powder over her eyelids. “Don’t flatter yourself, stud. Nobody said there wasn’t any stripping going on at our party.”

“Don’t give him any lies to take back to Sawyer, Cal. You taking your bra off doesn’t cou—” Makenna’s sentence falls off abruptly. “Uh, Dalton, whatcha got going on there?”

I follow her gaze to my back, trying to look over my shoulder to see what she’s talking about. “What? My tattoo? You’ve seen it before.”

A devious grin spreads across her full lips, making her bright eyes narrow. “Not the tattoo. I’m talking about these perfectly parallel scratch marks on each of your shoulder blades. Wonder how you got those?”

“Lemme see! Lemme see!” Callie jumps up from the tiny lavender chair and waddles over to join Makenna, supporting her belly with her hands. “You dirty dog. Those look pretty fresh.”

I fling one of the crisp white shirts around my shoulders and shove my arms into the sleeves. “Okay, you two have had your fun.” I raise a brow at Makenna. “I seem to remember the very same scratches on Sawyer’s ass when he was in the hospital, and I didn’t give you a hard time about it.”

Callie gasps and spins around to face Makenna. “Maybe you’re not the prude I thought you were. Or maybe Sawyer is
that
good.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I do
not
need to hear any of that.” I pick my t-shirt up off the bed and take a few steps toward the door. “This shirt fits. I’m out of here before I learn more about Sawyer than I ever wanted to know.”