Losing Romeo (20 page)

He grabbed her hand and tugged it loose, his warm fingers curling over hers. “Running into those guys just brought up some old crap. But if it came down to defending your honor, I’d do it in a second. Two functioning legs are totally overrated.”

She tipped her head and glared at him, hoping he got how not-funny she found him right now.

He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Come on, don’t stay mad at me. I need you with me tonight. I need you to remind me that none of those other people or what they say matter.” He leaned across the cab and kissed her cheek, then moved to her neck.

Goosebumps broke out across her skin, and thoughts got fuzzy. “You can’t just—”

He covered her lips with his and kissed her, making it impossible to hold on to her anger.

“Apparently, I am a stupid girl,” she murmured against his lips. “Falling for sorry-ass apologies that involve no words and all lips.”

She felt him smile. “You’re the best,” he said.

“Yes I am. Remember that when we’re sitting there talking to your ex-girlfriend.

I’m sure it’s going to be all kinds of twisted fun.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Even with all the background noise, the lack of conversation at the table was that clunky, awkward quiet. Bryson squeezed Rosaline’s hand, trying to be reassuring and get a read on her at the same time. Quiet wasn’t usually her M.O.

She glanced at him, squeezed back, then smiled across the table at Jen and Ian. “So, are you guys from here?”

With that, the conversation got going, the awkwardness slowly melting away. Whenever there was a pause, Rosaline would ask another question. She was amazing at the small talk. She was amazing period. Bryson knew she was doing it for him, too, and with every question, every smile, his tense muscles relaxed a bit more.

“Mercer!” Will, Matt, and Dave—Jen’s brothers—came over, all of them shouting greetings at once. They stole nearby empty chairs and crammed them around the table.

Will clapped Bryson on the shoulder. “It’s been a long time, man. How’s life?”

Bryson told them about how he worked for Mercer Trucking and tried to graciously accept their condolences about his riding career being infinitely postponed. He introduced them all to Rosaline, and before long, it was just like old times, talking about racing and bikes.

“We bored you to death yet, Rosaline?” Will asked.

“Not at all. I like listening to you all talk about it.” She ran her fingers through the hair at the base of Bryson’s neck. It about drove him wild with desire, especially when combined with the way she looked at him, eyes filled with admiration. “Bryson’s teaching me all the lingo and how to ride.”

“You’re learning from the best,” Ian said.

Bryson almost said,
Used to be the best
, but let it go.

“Well, before ya’ll showed up and hogged the conversation, I needed to tell Bryson something,” Jen said.

All eyes turned to her.

“Maybe Bryson and I could get a quick minute alone?” Jen looked at Rosaline. “I mean, away from the table. Just right over there.” She pointed to an empty area near the counter. “It’ll only take a second.”

The hand Rosaline had on his neck stilled and her jaw tightened. “Sure.” If he didn’t know her better, he would’ve believed the calmness she’d forced into her voice. Her jealousy made no logical sense, and it amused him to no end.

He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

She caught his hand as he started away from her. “Since you’re going to be next to the counter anyway, could you bring me back a chocolate shake? With extra whipped cream?”

“You got it, baby.” He leaned over and kissed her again, this time square on the mouth. Noticing the lustful way all the guys stared at her, he was hesitant to leave, not finding his jealousy nearly as funny as hers. “You guys will be nice to my girl? I don’t have to worry about leaving her?”

“We’ll be extra nice,” Will said. “Which means you probably
should
worry.”

“Very funny.” Bryson hoped the threat in his voice was clear. He hesitantly followed after Jen, wanting to get this over with and get back to Rosaline. Jen opened her mouth, and he held up a finger. “Better order the shake before I forget.” He put in an order for two of them, making sure to ask for Rosaline’s extra whipped cream, and turned back to Jen.

“I’ve thought about you a lot,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels like she did when she was nervous. “How everything went down that night and all you must’ve gone through. And your face…” Pity flashed through her eyes, and she stopped rocking, looking like she was going to reach out and touch it. “I heard they’d cut you, but…” She slowly pulled back her hand, letting it fall to her side.

Bryson shook his hair down, covering the scar she so nicely pointed out.

She scuffed the floor with the toe of her shoe, focusing on the gesture. “The truth is, I’ve felt guilty about it ever since it happened.”

“I could tell by the way you showed up at the hospital. Oh, and all the phone calls.”

He heard Rosaline’s laugh, mixed with male laughter, and glanced over at the table. She practically glowed, and he had no doubt her inescapable charm was in full effect. Yet somehow, she worried about losing him.
Damn, I’m one lucky bastard.

“…take it all back.” Jen put her hand on his arm. “Bryson? Are you even listening to me?”

He dragged his attention off Rosaline and looked back at Jen.

“I’m telling you I’m sorry.” Tears formed in her eyes, and he could see she genuinely meant it.

“Hey, we all make mistakes,” he said. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

She sniffed. “I really am sorry. And I’m sorry that you can’t race anymore. I know it was your whole world.”

“It was.” He glanced at Rosaline again, who was flashing the guys that killer smile of hers. “Now I’ve got something else.”

“Order up,” the guy at the counter called, sliding the two chocolate shakes toward him. Bryson picked them up, and he and Jen headed back to the table. As he settled next to Rosaline, all his worries and cares faded away until there was only her thigh against his.

“You seem to be a big hit over here,” Bryson said. “I could hear the laughter on the other side of the room.”

She took a big sip of her shake and then licked her lips in a mesmerizing way that made him want to do it for her next time. “I was just telling them the story about how I got a bug in my eye and wrecked us. And they at least had the courtesy to not call me a city girl.” She elbowed him in the gut, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re
my
city girl.”

“Well, looky here.” It came from Bryson’s left, a loud and obnoxious voice he immediately recognized. Kirby Green looked pretty much the same as he had a year ago. Tall and lanky with bad acne. And judging from the smirk on his face, he was still a prick. “Mercer, I didn’t think you came here anymore.”

Bryson gritted his teeth.
“If I knew you’d be here, I would’ve kept it that way.”

“Sounds like second place made someone bitter,” Ian said.

Realization dawned on Rosaline’s face. She leaned over and whispered, “Number 175?”

Bryson nodded.

“I almost had you, Young,” Kirby said, glancing at Ian. “You’re not near as good as Mercer was, though.” His gaze moved back to Bryson, the cold gleam in his eye making every muscle coil. “Heard your injuries made it so you couldn’t race anymore. Guess I should find those guys who shot you and thank them for taking out my biggest competition.”

Next to him, Rosaline went rigid. “What you should do, is start praying to Saint Drogo.”

“Why? You think I’m scared of Mercer?”

“Drogo’s the Patron Saint of Unattractive People,” Rosaline said. “Of course, even if he can help you with your looks, he probably can’t do much about you being such an asshole.”

The guys gasped and laughed, and there were a couple “Oh!s” mixed in.

Kirby’s nostrils flared. “You better watch your mouth, bitch.”

Bryson shot to his feet and grabbed Kirby’s collar. “I’ll put up with your insults, but you leave her out of it.”

The other guys stood, too, everyone ready for a fight to break loose. “Walk away,” Will said to Kirby in a way that made it clear he wasn’t messing around.

Blood and adrenaline pumped through Bryson’s body, an addictive surge he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was trying to hold his temper, but the urge to let go and give the jerk the beating he deserved called to him.
Just one nice punch would be so satisfying.

Kirby jerked himself free of Bryson’s grip. “Forgot none of you guys could take a joke.” He threw up his hands and backed away.

One by one, everyone sat down again, the charged energy in the air slowly fading.

Jen shook her head. “Wow, she can’t stay away from a fight either. You two really do go together.”

Rosaline grabbed his hand, eyes wide with worry. “I’m sorry. I said it before thinking.”

“No need to apologize. You insulted someone using a saint.” He wrapped his hand around her thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re pretty much my idol.”

Matt held up his hand. “That was awesome.”

Rosaline gave him a high five, but it was lacking enthusiasm.

Bryson smiled at her, but when she didn’t smile back, he decided it was time to go. “Hey, it was fun, but Rosaline and I better take off.” He stood, pulling her with him.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Dave said. Then he nodded at Rosaline. “Nice meeting you. And if you ever get bored of Mercer—”

“Keep dreaming, man,” Bryson said, wrapping his arm around her waist.

They said their goodbyes and made their way to his truck. For the second time tonight, Rosaline was quiet. He grabbed her hand and tugged her across the bench seat so she was right next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“If you got hurt because of me…” She let her head drop back against the seat. “I was just the stupid girl that got you into a fight.”

“Trust me, I can get in plenty of trouble by myself.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, trying not to be insulted. “Do you really have that little faith in my fighting skills?”

“No, I have no doubt you could take that punk out. It’s just…” Her voice cracked. “It made me think about Mercutio and Ty and Romeo—all the fighting back in Verona. It’s not worth it. I should’ve kept quiet, no matter how big of a jerk he was.”

“I like that you speak your mind.” He leaned his forehead against hers and plunged his fingers through her silky hair. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”

She tensed, and he clenched his jaw, wishing he’d done it two seconds sooner. He was going to wait to tell her he loved her. He knew it was too fast and would freak her out, even if it was the truth.

“You love me?” she asked.

It was out there now. He couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to. He nodded.

The smile started on the right side and spread to the left. “I love you, too,” she said. Then she sealed the words with a slow, mind-blowing kiss.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Rosaline.” Shaking accompanied her name.

She groaned and rolled over, blinking her eyes. Dafne sat on the edge of the bed. The red numbers on the alarm clock read 6:37. “What are you doing? It’s so early.”

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep.” Dafne leaned down, a ridiculously huge smile on her face considering the revoltingly early hour. “Winslow and I are getting married. Today.”

Rosaline sat up and the room spun. “Today?”

“In a little less than twelve hours. We’ve decided to elope. And I know, everyone’s going to think it’s so sudden, but we’ve worked together for almost six years, and considering the bad things that have happened with our past relationships…we just want to get married now. And I want you to be my maid of honor.”

Married. Dafne and Winslow were getting married today. Rosaline kicked off her covers, excitement working its way through her and helping wake her to the limb-moving, brain-working point. “We better go find you a dress.”

“I don’t have to do the whole wedding-dress thing. All that matters is I’m going to marry the man I love and spend the rest of my life with him.”

Rosaline put her hand on Dafne’s arm. “Yes. That’s what matters. But we’re going to go find you a dress and do it right. The way you deserve.”

Dafne threw her arms around Rosaline. “Thank you.”

“Okay. Start giving me all the details, and I’ll help you figure out how we’re going to pull off this wedding.”

***

Rosaline pulled the truck up to the curb of the church at 5:45. They were cutting it close, but the hair and nails were done, and the dresses just needed to be thrown on. Fifteen minutes. Totally doable.

Maybe.

They snuck into the side room, and Rosaline slid into the pale blue halter dress Dafne had picked out, careful not to mess up the pretty braided updo she’d gotten at the salon. “Okay, I’m good to go.”

She helped Dafne into the sleek satin gown it took three bridal shops to find. There were zippers and buttons and a couple tiny hooky things barely visible to the naked eye. Finally they were all secure.

Dafne ran a hand down the shimmery fabric. It was simple yet elegant, hugging in all the right places. “You’re sure it’s not too tight?”

“You look amazing.” Unexpected tears filled Rosaline’s eyes. “I’m so happy for you.”

Dafne sniffed. “No crying or I’ll start.”

“Deal.” Rosaline blinked away her tears and handed Dafne a pair of chandelier earrings. She grabbed the small bouquet of mixed flowers—with no prep time, she’d bought the two most similar bouquets she could find. White and pink roses, mixed with tiny blue flowers.

A knock sounded on the door, and Rosaline opened it a crack and peeked out of it.

Winslow stood there, handsome in his black suit, dark hair slicked back. His outfit was impeccable, but there was a frazzled air about him, stress creasing the lines of his face. “She’s… she’s okay? And she didn’t change her mind?”

“She’s okay,” Rosaline said. “And she’s ready to get married.”

He exhaled, and a smile curved his lips. “I’ll tell them to start.” Over the phone, Rosaline had hammered out the details about walking down the aisle, music, and that kind of thing with Winslow, with the occasional input from Daphne as she scrambled to get the dress, hair, and everything else taken care of. Now Rosaline just hoped it all went smoothly.

Rosaline took her place and waited for Bryson. Heat uncurled low in her stomach as he approached. The dark suit fit him perfectly, highlighting his chest and shoulders, and the crooked smile he flashed her completed the GQ look nicely. He held out his arm, and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. Organ music floated from the front, and they started down the aisle.

Maybe someday, we’ll be married here.

Rosaline shook her head. She thought Juliet was an idiot for talking marriage to Romeo, and here she was, losing her mind.

I would never follow through with it, though.

Bryson gazed down at her, desire lighting his eyes, and she almost tripped over her own feet.

At least for another year.

Okay. I need to stop. Just because he told me he loved me…
She tightened her grip on his arm, fighting the urge to tell him all over again. They were in the middle of a wedding ceremony—she needed to focus. They split in front of the priest, Bryson going to stand over by Winslow, and Rosaline going the opposite direction.

The organ music changed, the notes of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” filling the air. Bouquet in hand, Dafne walked down the aisle, her train trailing behind her. Tears filled Rosaline’s eyes. She couldn’t help it. Dafne was getting her happily ever after; Winslow beamed at his bride-to-be, clearly happy; and Bryson stood next to his uncle, looking all tall, dark, and handsome in his suit. It was a moment of perfection.

Winslow and Dafne joined hands, listened to the scripture the priest read, and made their vows.

During the exchanging of the rings, Rosaline stole a glance at Bryson.

And found him looking back at her.

Right then and there she knew—even though it was hypocritical and others would say she was too young—she’d never find anyone else she loved as much as she loved him.

***

Dafne hesitated by the Range Rover—Winslow had the passenger door open, waiting for his new bride to climb inside. “I’m not sure I should leave you like this,” she said to Rosaline. “I’m supposed to be the responsible adult here, and your father wouldn’t be very happy if he found out I left you alone all night.”

“I won’t be alone.” Rosaline curled her hand around Bryson’s arm. “Bryson will be with me.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Dafne fixed them with a serious glare. “I’m trusting you two to behave. Home by eleven, and Bryson says his goodbyes at the door.”

“We’ll be good.” Rosaline shooed her aunt toward the vehicle. “You just got married. Now stop worrying and go already.” Remembering how often her aunt’s phone rang, she held out her hand. “Actually, give me your cell. I’ll field the calls and then you can actually get a hold of me if you need to.”

Dafne reluctantly handed it over.

Winslow put his hand on her back. “They’re good kids. I’ve made sure everything is taken care of.”

“But—”

“You always take care of everybody else. Now let me take care of you.” Winslow slid his hand under Dafne’s knees, picked her up, and put her in the SUV.

Rosaline waved as they drove away, grinning at how happy they looked.

Bryson came up behind her, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping her arms around her waist. He kissed her temple, and a happy sigh escaped her lips. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look in that dress?”

She spun around to face him and tugged on his tie. “You look pretty good yourself.”

He cupped her cheek and kissed her, then ran his hand down her arm and laced his fingers with hers. “Come on. I’m taking you out.”

“Where are we going?”

He flashed her a megawatt grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

***

Bryson forced himself to return his attention to the road. Rosaline had put her feet up on the dashboard of his truck, her skirt hiking up and showing lots of leg. Considering where they were going, he probably should’ve told her to change, but he could stare at her in that dress all night.

“I still can’t believe they pulled off a wedding in a day.” Rosaline picked a flower out of her bouquet and twirled it between her fingers. “Papa Capulet is going to flip when he finds out. The whole family will actually. They always find some reason the couple shouldn’t get married and talk crap about it the entire engagement. With my mom, it was because she wasn’t—gasp!—Italian. That’s one point against Winslow, too, but since they’ve already been through that, they should be okay. They might even be glad Dafne got married, considering they were so worried she’d be alone forever. But no matter how much they disapprove of someone—and they’ll always find a reason—they expect to not only be invited, but also be a part of the ceremony.”

The fading light of the day lit up her wide-eyed expression. “Just wait until you meet them. My family is big, scary, and crazy loud.”

The thought of meeting her family terrified him. What would they think of their beautiful daughter dating a guy like him?

I can’t be worse than her last boyfriend. Of course that’s true of just about any guy.

Dafne’s cell phone rang, and Rosaline glanced at it. “Speaking of my crazy family, this is the second time my dad’s called Dafne today.” She hit the button to quiet its ringing and tossed it back in her purse. “I’ll deal with him later.”

After a moment, Bryson decided to talk to her about what had been on his mind since last night. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my options with my leg. I’d love to race again, but if it means losing my leg completely…” He sighed. “I’ll have to settle for riding out on the farm, none of the trick riding or hard courses. Still, I hope I’ll get the strength to go without a cane, maybe even run, and my only option for that is to not get the artificial knee, but see what they can do with just surgery.”

Rosaline covered her hand with his. “You know I’ll be here to help you through it, no matter what you decide.”

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. He hated the idea of looking weak in front of her but, at the same time, took comfort in the fact that she’d be there, keeping him company as he recovered. “The other thing is, since I’m not going to be a pro racer, I should probably look into college. I know Winslow will always have a job for me if I need it, but I’m not sure I want to be in the trucking biz for the rest of my life. Before I felt like I owed it to him to stay, being his only family and all. But now he’s got Dafne.”

“If you want to go to college, I say you go.” Rosaline glanced out the window, then looked back at him, the tiny crease showing up between her eyebrows. “Where are you thinking of going? There probably aren’t a whole lot of colleges close to here.”

“I used to think I’d go to Little Rock—get away from the small town, you know. But there’s a community college in Springdale, and a couple of places I could go to in Fayetteville.”

Silence stretched between them. Uncertainty crept in and filled the space until it pressed against his chest, one slow crushing inch at a time. A moment ago she’d said she’d help him through his knee surgery. Was talking colleges too much?

Bryson was so caught up in wondering what she was thinking, he almost missed the turn. The road got bumpy as they neared the place. He slowed and pulled into the Bentonville State Fair parking lot.

Rosaline leaned forward, peering out the windshield.

“I never got a chance to take you on the Ferris wheel like you wanted,” he said. “I saw the fair was in town, so I thought we’d fix that.”

She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly like she might cry, and he thought he’d screwed up. Then she lunged across the cab and hugged him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He kissed her, then helped her out of the truck on his side. He wanted to be happy—she’d just said she loved him—but clearly she was holding back. A weird vibe hung between them, and it’d started when he’d mentioned going to college.

He wanted to ask her what was going on, but she tugged him toward the fairgrounds, and he decided it could wait. Even if it was going to bug the hell out of him.

***

The scent of fried foods and a hint of something sweet hung in the air. Screams mixed in with the noise of the whirring machinery. As they stood in line waiting to ride the Ferris wheel, Rosaline leaned her head on Bryson’s shoulder, hugging him from the side, wanting to soak in everything about this moment.

He remembered I wanted to ride a Ferris wheel.
It was enough to make her want to cry. For some reason, as he’d been talking in the truck, Juliet’s face—eyes red and puffy, grief-stricken expression—popped into her head. That was what crazy-in-love love did to you. At the wedding, she’d realized just how in love she was with Bryson. And now she was freaking out, wondering if she’d end up like that.

What if he does what every other guy has done and suddenly loses interest?

Rosaline took a couple deep breaths.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

Finally, they reached the front of the line. The man working the ride gave her and Bryson the once over, probably because they were so overdressed, then ushered them into the metal bucket and fastened the bar across their laps.

Just focus on riding the Ferris wheel and kissing your boyfriend at the top, like you’ve always wanted to do.

Red, blue, and yellow light danced across Bryson’s face as they lifted higher in the air, a few feet up every minute or so until the ride was full. The sun was all but set, and the entire park was lit up, tiny people walking between flashing rides. Rosaline’s stomach lifted as they descended, gradually picking up speed as the ride moved to full-speed rotations.