Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

WOOD

S he's so nervous she's making herself sick. I hate it.

Her hand is trembling slightly on the stair rail as we make our way down the steps and around the gaudy flower arrangement toward the back doors. Multiple sets of white French doors are flung open to a brick-paved patio that spans the width of the house and is at least forty feet deep. It's lined with built-in planter boxes, all overflowing with white and pink flowers, and dotted with small standing cocktail tables and large white umbrellas.

It's already full of people, drinks in hand, and more staffers in vests carrying around drink and food trays.

It's fancy as fuck.

Macy stops. I want to hold her hand and make it stop shaking.

"We've got this," I say.

She looks up at me, eyes wide. After a second she gives a small nod and a half-hearted smile. But we do. We've got this. I'm going to make sure she has a good week. And I'm going to keep us away from Spencer. Not just for her, but for me, too. I'm not sure I won't be able to keep from punching him in the dick.

I let her lead us out onto the patio. The evening sun is warm, just starting to lower over the treetops.

We're stepping out together, and I won't let it show that my stomach is doing flip flops, too—for an entirely different reason.

I touch Macy's lower back, letting my hand slide toward her hip.

Her head whips my direction. "What are you doing?"

"We're together, Macy. I'm going to act like it. Is this not okay?" I lighten my touch.

Her pink cheeks darken. "No, it's okay. I'm just not used to it, I guess. Being in a relationship doesn't equal PDA, you know. Spencer never?—"

"Let's not talk about him." I grip her hip a little tighter.

I know he never showed affection toward her in public. It always got on my nerves he didn't treat her like a goddess, like he was the luckiest guy on the planet. She deserves to be worshipped.

"That's not how I am in a relationship," I say, pulling her to my side and wrapping my arm around her waist, loving the way she feels next to me.

"Have you ever been in a relationship?" She quirks an eyebrow.

I chuckle low in my chest. Touché. "It's been a while."

"Why is that?"

"I'm picky."

She laughs. A real laugh, one that makes her whole face scrunch up.

Very picky. Specifically, five-foot-four redheads with freckles and deep brown eyes who can't swear, have the cutest laughs, and are devastatingly uninterested in me.

"So, you're picky. And now we have to convince everyone you picked me. Great." Her voice morphs into nervous laughter.

"What?" I'm so confused what she means by this. She's literally everything.

But a server walks by with a tray of champagne and wine before I can get clarification. Macy grabs one of the chardonnays and starts sipping.

Her glass is empty by the time we make it across the patio to where Bex and Jake are greeting a line of guests.

She sets the empty glass on a tray and trades it for a full one as another server sweeps by, her eyes shifting around, a little line creased between her brows.

I glance over her head and around. I haven't seen him yet.

A tall woman all in black with cropped blonde hair and a headset is walking around the periphery with a sharp eye on everything, every once in a while speaking into the headset. She hasn't blinked.

Tightening my arm around Macy's waist, I lean in. "There are a lot of people here."

She nods, finishing a gulp of wine. "Yeah, the Hayeses have a lot of extended family they invited. More will be flying in throughout the week. The daytime activities are just for the bridal party, though." Her eyes are still wild. Glass empty again.

"Let's find you some food." I wave over a server with a tray of appetizers—mini crab cakes with a dot of spicy tartar sauce.

"I'm fine. I'm okay," she says as I take her glass, and she takes a crab cake in each hand and stuffs them in her mouth back to back.

"Mace!" Bex squeals as we make our way to the front of the receiving line. She's in some fluffy peach dress, her long blonde hair shining in the sunlight as she squeezes Macy around the shoulders, rocking them side to side.

Jake and I exchange nods, and he reaches out for a handshake. Nah.

"Bring it in, brother," I say, taking his hand and pulling him in for a big hug. I slap his back as he makes a choking sound.

He stands back, smiling.

Bex is still swaying with Macy, then finally pulls away, grinning. "I'm so glad you're here! I'm sorry I've been so busy with bride duties but we're going to have so much fun this week."

Her smile falters as soon as she sees me.

"Wood. Hi. I didn't know you were going to be here today."

"Wouldn't miss it, sis." I open my arms toward her, but she doesn't move in. I glance toward Macy.

"He came with me." Her voice is unusually high and uneven.

"Wait…" Bex looks between us. "Like, with with?"

Macy looks around, a weird, little high-pitched laugh escaping her lips. "Is there more wine somewhere? I need more wine."

I put my arm back around her waist, gently pulling her back to my side. Hopefully she knows I've got her. " With her," I say.

Bex's light blue eyes widen, and her mouth falls open before she lets out a little scream. People turn their heads. Waitstaff stop in their tracks. Bex doesn't care. "Hallelujah!" She hugs Macy again, the scream continuing. "Champagne! This calls for champagne. I'm so happy for you two!"

"You are?" Macy is incredulous, and I'm going to try to not take that personally.

"Come here!" Bex's slim arms are surprisingly strong as she pulls me in for a hug. "It's about fucking time," she whispers in my ear. Pulling back with a smile, she turns back to Macy. "You need to tell me everything. At the dress fitting tomorrow—you're going to give me all the details. All. The. Details."

"I am?" Macy lets out that same unhinged laugh, and I squeeze her hip. I'm here.

"Yes! Now, go enjoy the party. I'll come find you in a bit," Bex says as the person behind us in line—an older woman in a powder blue pantsuit—clears her throat.

"See, you did great. You didn't even need to do convincing ," I whisper as we head toward the closest person with a tray.

"I can't believe she bought the idea of us so quickly. Didn't even question it."

"Is it that unbelievable?"

"Yes."

Ouch.

"Macy, darling." A woman approaches us just before we reach the guy who has the mini beef Wellingtons. Damn.

I have no earthly idea how to categorize this woman. She has money, obviously, by the designer dress, large pieces of jewelry, and Chanel perfume. She looks older than my mom, but her skin is unusually smooth and firm, so maybe not? Her hair is light and pulled up. I can't tell if it's white or blonde. Her smile is warm, teeth impeccable, but her eyes are cold.

"Saundra—uh, Mrs. Hayes. Hi."

"Saundra is fine, dear. I thought that was you. You look"—she takes a step back and looks Macy up and down, assessing—"different."

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" I step closer to Macy.

The woman's eyes dart toward me, the coldness sharp, yet her face remains in a poised, calm expression. She's good. "And who are you?" she asks, and for the first time I'm glad I have so much experience dealing with the rich uppity-ups my dad does business with.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." Macy's cheeks flush, and I'm about to steer her away from this woman. "This is Saundra Hayes, mother of the groom. This is her place. Isn't it lovely? And this is… Uh… Um…" Macy looks at me, panic in her eyes, and I realize she doesn't know my first name.

I'd laugh at the situation if I couldn't tell she's mortified.

"Hey, Mrs. H! What's up?" I take her hand in both of mine and move in for my signature side shoulder hug. "I'm Wade. Wade Woodall."

Saundra stands like a statue as I give her shoulder a pat and then slowly removes her hand, narrowing her eyes. "Woodall, as in William and Jack Woodall?"

"That'd be my grandad and dad, yeah."

"Hmm." Her demeanor immediately changes. Her smile curls up higher, highlighting her prominent cheek bones, yet not creating any lines on her face. "I thought you looked familiar."

"I also went to the same prep as Spencer and Jake. I was in the year between them. Spencer and I were on the rowing team together. I was captain, actually."

Her eyes light up. "Ah yes, that's where I know you from. How wonderful." She takes my hand, this time shaking it firmly, her cold eyes assessing but apparently approving.

She looks back to Macy.

"Macy, darling, I was so sad to hear about you and my dear Spencer." She glances at me, an eyebrow raised without the slightest crinkle of her forehead. "But it seems you bounced back quickly. And someone from the same social circle and economic background, too."

Macy's face goes pale.

"It was so nice to meet you," I say with a big smile, keeping my grip around Macy firm. "You have a gorgeous home, and this is a fantastic event. We won't keep you from your other guests."

And with that, I swing us in a hard right and away from Saundra Hayes.

Macy exhales. "I need?—"

"More wine. On it."

We score some more wine but there's only one beef Wellington left, and I let Macy have it.

"So, any other relatives or guests we should be avoiding?" I ask as we make our way over to a standing table in the corner by the roses, partially shaded by a grove of aspens.

She shakes her head. "I don't know everyone here." She leans in and points to a man sitting near the bar with salt-and-pepper hair and wire-framed glasses. "That's Spencer and Jake's dad, Charles. He's the head of the oncology department at the hospital. He's nice, but he lets Saundra do most of the talking."

I can't help but smell the hint of citrus and peach in her hair.

"Over there," she continues, "are a couple cousins and an aunt I've never met. His grandfather is over there in the tweed with the cigar." She swivels her head around. I'm doing the same, surprised I haven't spotted him yet.

"I think the only family here for Bex yet is her mother." She points across the patio to where Noah and Livvy are talking to a woman in a lavender dress and cream cardigan.

Noah and his throat tattoos are obviously making quite the impression on his new girlfriend's mom by the look of panic on her face and the way she's clutching the little gold necklace around her neck.

"Oh, and there's—" She pauses, and I follow her gaze, expecting it to land on Spencer, but she's looking at a petite blonde in a pink mini dress who's headed straight for us. "Margot," she finishes. "Spencer and Jake's younger sister."

"Macy!" Margot runs up to us, instantly hugging Macy around the middle. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since…" She tilts her head and puts on a little frown.

"Christmas," Macy finishes for her.

"Yes! That's way too long."

Macy nods but Margot has already turned, positioning herself between us, her attention fixed on me. "And who is your friend?" She touches my arm and licks her lips as she smiles up at me.

"Wade Woodall. Most everyone calls me Wood."

"Wade." She steps a little closer. "I'm Margot. Why haven't I met you before?"

I'm just about to say, "I don't know, girlfriend," and bring her in for a nice-to-meet-you hug when Macy slides over, clutching my arm.

"He's my boyfriend," she says quickly.

The words make my heart stop for a beat before picking back up wildly.

Margot's pale blue eyes go wide. "Oh! I—I didn't know. I thought… I mean, Spencer?—"

"—and I broke up," Macy says, tightening her grip on my arm.

I think that's the cue. "It was so cool meeting you, Margot. We'll be seeing you around."

"All week," she says with a smile.

With a nod, I rush Macy away from her, aiming toward Noah and Livvy.

"She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Who, Margot? Sure." I guess. Lots of girls are pretty. Doesn't make them special.

We're about halfway to Noah and Livvy, to safety, when Macy stops abruptly, so quickly her heel wedges between the bricks and she almost tumbles forward. I catch her by the waist, and she leans on me as she frees her heel.

"Are you okay?"

She looks up at me and then past my shoulder, cheeks white.

I look over to where Spencer is standing by the French doors in navy blue, his scowl trained directly on us. My hand is still on Macy's waist, and the urge to pull her in toward me is strong, cover her with my body so he can't lay eyes on her. And—okay—to sort of rub it in his face that she's here with me.

She's not really here with you. It's a ruse.

Fuck. I know that.

And then Walter, like a plump, petite angel of mercy, announces dinner is ready to be served and we should all go to the west lawn to take our seats.

Keeping my hand on her waist, I pull Macy in a little closer to my side as we walk past Spencer. "Just look straight ahead," I whisper.

She does good, keeping her head up and eyes forward. But I can't help myself. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His face is tomato red, and as his eyes fall to where my hand is on her hip, I give it an extra squeeze, just for him.

We're seated at the main table, Macy just to the right of Bex. Spencer is on the other side of Jake along with Jake's two other groomsmen we haven't met yet. Livvy and Noah are on my right, Livvy being one of Bex's bridesmaids along with Margot at the end.

Thankfully, dinner is served right away. My stomach rumbles as the plate is set down—honey-glazed salmon, risotto, and roasted broccolini. I dig in right away, but Macy is sitting, staring at the plate, not eating. She pulls out her phone and hides it in her lap, her leg bouncing, doing something with it under the table.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, a broccolini speared on my fork.

She startles. "Just some math. I'll be right back." She grabs her purse and stands, her chair getting stuck in the grass.

I shoot up and get her chair for her. She says thanks, looking around. Other guests have noticed she's standing now. Macy's cheeks darken. I hate this. I just want to see her smiling.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to take care of my insulin," she says.

Oh right. Duh. Fucking idiot, Wood . "I'll come with you."

"No, that's okay. Don't let your food get cold. I'll be right back."

Her food is cold by the time she gets back.

We manage to make it through the dinner and the toasts uneventfully. The sun has set, stars almost visible in the deep blue sky, and a cool breeze is starting to roll off the water. At the first sign of a shiver from Macy, I insist we go inside.

I walk her inside and toward the stairs. "I'll meet you back up in the room in a minute, I just need to check on something," I say.

"Okay," she says with a small smile. She looks tired. I want to give her a hug.

I watch her walk up the steps, feeling like I should be with her. But I'll be quick. I need to find Walter, that little vested cherub of a man.

It only takes me a few minutes to find Walter, and after a short detour through the kitchen with a few snacks in hand, I race up the stairs back to our room.

Our room.

But she's not in our room. Macy's standing outside our door, Spencer standing over her, hand on the wall caging her in.

"I made sure you were in the room next to me so we could talk about reconciling if you were done being silly, but you bring him here? Of all people? Are you trying to embarrass me?" he hisses in her ear.

"Embarrass you? What do you mean?"

She looks so small, looking up at him. Her voice soft. Meek.

Forget punching him in the dick. I might unalive him.

"How long has this been going on?" he continues. "Were you messing around with him behind my back? All this time?"

"What? Of course not."

"Seems pretty sketchy to me, you bringing him here to my parents' house. It's only been a couple weeks."

"Oh, there you are, love." I stride over to Macy, taking her hand. It's shaking. "Spence. How you been, bro?"

He doesn't say anything, just looks at me from under straight brows.

"Oh shit!" I put my hand to my chest. "Is your room next to ours? Fantastic. We'll try to keep it down." I wink at him, my smirk involuntarily growing as his scowl deepens.

Then I whisk Macy into the room and shut the door, leaving him out in the hall.