Unafraid (Beachwood Bay) (30 page)

It’s done.

I realize it with a mix of sadness and relief, sweet and true. It’s been over for years now, I just couldn’t let it go. But I have to move on now. I’m the only one who can make a change.

I’m the only one who can decide I deserve to be loved.

I reach for the ignition. I came here looking for answers from him, but it turns out I’ve had them inside me all along. I feel the weight slip from my shoulders, the deep, knotted tangle of my heart finally unbind. I take a deep breath, the evening air cool and crisp in my lungs, the scenery brighter outside my window. It’s like I just broke free through the surface, after spending years caught adrift in the murky undertow.

I’m enough. I was always good enough. It’s not my fault they couldn’t stay.

Movement comes from across the street. My father exits the house, heading for the minivan to fetch a forgotten bag. He pauses on his way back to the house, looking across the street at me.

Our eyes meet for a moment, two strangers staring across the street. A world apart, sharing more than he’ll ever know.

I turn the key in the ignition. The truck rumbles to life.

This time, I’m the one leaving him behind.

I call Emerson and leave my apologies—the dinner will have to wait for some other visit.

“There’s something I need to do,” I explain. “I don’t know if I’ve got the time, but I have to try.”

“Atta girl,” I can hear the smile in his voice. “But just so you know, that’s a standing offer to smash his face in. Any time you need me, I’m there. You know that, right? I’ll always be there.”

“I know,” I smile, “I can always count on you.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Juliet’s voice comes down the line. “You’re welcome here any time. And I want to talk about wedding dress designs!”

Emerson groans. “I thought we were keeping it simple. A Christmas wedding in Beachwood Bay, no fuss.”

“Small doesn’t mean un-stylish,” Juliet argues with him. “Anyway, Brit has things to do and boys to win. We’ll talk soon. Good luck!”

I hang up, and get back on the road, heading for Beachwood as fast as Garrett’s old truck will take me. And with every mile, my brother’s words echo in my mind, driving me on.

That’s life. That’s love. You have to figure out what you want and then fight like hell. Because it’s never easy, not when your heart’s on the line.

I’ve never fought for a man, I’ve never cared enough to try. But for Hunter, I’d wage war against a thousand armies, cross the world, travel to hell and back. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and the only one I ever want to.

For all that, I can surely face down his mother.

When I get home and pull in the driveway, I find Garrett waiting on the porch.

“No time to explain!” I cry, flying up the steps and into the house. “I have serious work to do!”

“What kind of work?” Garrett follows me.

I reach the living room and look around, breathless. “The big anniversary party is tomorrow night, which means I have exactly twenty-four hours to turn this,” I hold up the lengths of purple silk, “Into this.” I show him my sketches of the dream ball-gown, the one I’ve spent months designing.

The dress I’m going to wear to knock Hunter off his feet.

Garrett’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t protest. “OK then,” he rubs his hands together, “What do you need?”

“I’ve got the tools, the fabric, everything, except… Coffee. Lots of it,” I tell him, kicking off my boots.

“I’m on it,” he grins, “How about some burgers too?”

I shake my head, already reaching for the patterns I cut, and the lengths of cotton mock-up fabric. “I’m not hungry.” I couldn’t eat, not with exhilaration thundering in my veins like this, every cell in my body vibrating with purpose. I’m on a mission, and I’m running out of time.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to eat,” Garrett corrects me, grabbing his keys back from the table. “This is going to be a long night.”

Garrett is right in the end; I do eat the burger, and drink down at least three pots of coffee. I work through the night, cutting and pinning until the pattern is perfect. Then, only then, do I cut into my precious silk, carefully slicing the panels that will fit together into the finished design as dawn breaks outside the window, and golden morning light replaces the glare of the bulb overhead.

“What time is it?” Garrett yawns, sitting up from where he fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know.” I don’t lift my eyes for a moment. One wrong slice of the scissors, and the whole panel will be ruined. I don’t have enough fabric to replace any of the pieces, and besides, I don’t have the time to start again.

“It’s after ten, you should really get some sleep.”

“No time for sleep. I still have to sew the panels, and finish the hem, and stitch the bodice…” I feel a tremor of apprehension at the mammoth task still ahead of me, but I push it down. I’ll finish. I have to finish. There’s no two ways about it.

I feel Garrett approach to stand over me. “Wow, you did all this while I was sleeping?”

“You snore.”

“Do not!” He protests.

“Mmmhmm,” I make a dubious murmur as I carefully cut the last piece of the pattern.

“You think someone wouldn’t have told me by now if I did snore?” Garrett challenges me, laughing.

I finally look up. “Please, like any of those girls would tell you the truth. They wouldn’t know a solid opinion if it knocked them over the head.”

Garrett looks hurt. “I told you, I’m taking a break from all of that.”

I pause, seeing the genuine expression on his face. “Then I guess we’re both trying something new.”

“I’m not being a manwhore, and you’re not being a destructive bitch,” Garrett agrees with a grin. “Look at us and our emotional maturity.”

I laugh, feeling the ache in my shoulders, in every muscle in my body. “Gold stars all around.” I yawn, then clap a hand over my mouth. “No!” I yelp. “I can’t be tired. The party is tonight, I can’t show up in a half-finished dress!”

“I bet Hunter wouldn’t mind.” Garrett remarks. “You could show up in jeans, and he’d still fall at your feet.”

I shake my head furiously. “You didn’t see our fight. It was awful. The worst. He might not take me back at all. And besides, this isn’t just about him,” I add, “It’s about all of them. I have to show him, I don’t care about his family and all that society stuff. I’ll play along, I’ll make them like me. I’ll do whatever it takes to be with him.”

I thought that it was a choice, between them and me, but I was wrong. Hunter needs to work through issues with his family—and I’m going to be right by his side while he does it.

“If you won’t take a nap, then we’re going to need some more coffee.”

“Coffee, yes! And donuts,” I add, remembering Hunter’s surprise gift with a nostalgic smile. “And maybe pancakes.”

“I’ll do a breakfast run to Mrs. Olson’s,” Garrett offers, heading for the door.

“I’ll be here, losing my mind!” I call after him, but he’s already picked up his phone and is talking to someone, probably figuring out someone to cover our shifts at the bar while I spend the day sewing on my fool’s errand.

No, I correct myself, before the whispers of doubt can take hold. It’s not foolish to believe our love is real. For once in my life, I have someone worth fighting for, and I’m not letting him get away, not this time.

“Get ready, Hunter Covington,” I mutter to myself, setting the dial on my sewing machine to its finest thread. “You aren’t going to know what’s hit you.”

By evening, I’m dead on my feet. My fingers are raw, I’ve pricked myself with pins a dozen times over, and I’m so tired I can barely see straight. But the dress is finished.

It’s a dream of a dress. Everything I ever imagined, and so much more.

“And… done.” I say, pulling the final thread through the bodice. I check with seams, running my fingers over the sweeping hem before slumping back in my chair, exhaustion hitting me like a ton of bricks. “Did I make it in time?”

Garrett checks his watch. “You’ve got just enough time to shower and get ready if we’re going to make it into the city by eight.”

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror and let out a wail. “Look at me!” I cry. My hair is sticking out in all directions, and there are shadows under my eyes for days. “I look like a zombie!”

“Then we got here just in time.” There are voices from the doorway, and I turn to find Emerson and Juliet—and Lacey, Juliet’s best friend in tow.

“What are you guys doing here?” I blink.

“A little birdy said you had a party to get ready for,” Juliet beams, coming to sweep me into a hug.

“Garrett!” I cry. He gives me a bashful look.

“I can help with coffee, but I’m no good with all of that.” He waves from my messy hair to my bare feet.

“And I am,” Lacey interrupts, beaming.

“You guys…” I feel tears well up, overwhelmed by the long day and all the friendly faces around me.

“Oh no!” Lacey cuts me off. She grabs my arm and propels me into the hallway and towards the stairs—surprisingly strong for such a petite pixie of a girl. “No crying. Your eyes will get all red and puffy, and believe me, we’ve got enough problems to be fixing. You got the supplies?” she calls back to Emerson.

“Right here.” He answers with a grin, handing off an armful of bulging bags to Juliet as she follows us upstairs.

Lacey fixes me with a look. “I’m a miracle worker, but I have only one rule. Sit down, and shut up, and do exactly what I say.”

“That’s three rules,” I point out, laughing. My tiredness is fading, pushed away by the infectious enthusiasm swirling all around me.

“You’re right, she is a problem child,” Lacey tells Juliet.

“Hey!”

“Relax, kid.” Lacey winks. “By the time I’m through with you, you’re going to look like a million bucks.”

“Can I look yet?” I swivel impatiently in my chair. Lacey’s had me sitting here for an hour now, as she applies my makeup: painting and smoothing with total concentration.

“Nope.”

“But we’re late, the party starts at eight—”

“Sit still, or I’ll poke your eye out with a mascara wand.”

“And you better believe her,” Juliet adds, perched on the edge of the bed, watching us. “She nearly blinded me once with an eyeliner.”