25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

J ustine offered to take care of dinner and put the girls to bed on Friday night. Bennett, Jagger, Wyatt, and Dom were all stuck down at the restaurant dealing with wedding garbage. So it was up to Clint, Brooke, and Justine to manage the children.

Justine was more than happy to take on the responsibility of feeding and reading to Aya and Emme. In fact, she relished the distraction.

She was sitting on Bennett's couch, having said "goodnight" and put the girls to bed two hours ago, when he walked in the front door looking absolutely shredded. The dark smudges under his eyes told her he definitely needed to sleep and not wake up for a run early tomorrow morning. But there was a tense and angry air about him too.

Hopefully it wasn't directed at her.

Did Tad say something to Bennett about seeing Justine? Did he fill Bennett's head with lies about her?

"They're awful people," were the first words out of his mouth. "Truly terrible."

She nodded. "I know."

"They arrived early, expecting to be able to check in before three. Which, okay, fine. The cabin was ready, but that's not the point. They threw around the whole ‘for the amount we're paying' bullshit."

"Mhmm."

"And she's just a shrew. I knew she was when I first met them, but today just confirmed it. She micromanaged everything. Down to how Dom arranged the booze bottles behind the bar. She didn't think the way he's had it for years was aesthetically pleasing. So she wanted them organized in a pyramid. The shortest at the ends, tallest in the middle. He argued that he'll never be able to find the bottles if they're not in their rightful places, but she just dismissed him. We are literally the help."

"I'm sorry."

He waved his hand to dismiss her apology. "Not your fault. It's not like you brought them here." Raking his fingers through his hair, he dragged his gaze back to her. "How were the girls?"

"Wonderful, as always. No issues. I made a tofu stir-fry for dinner and they gobbled that up. Then we had some frozen pureed mango on vanilla ice cream for dessert."

He sighed. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." She stood up to go. "You should sleep in tomorrow. We don't need to run."

She made to walk past him, but he gripped her by the wrist. "I don't want to miss out on our time together. We only have so much of it."

There her heart went again, sinking down to her toes. Her mouth must have dropped into a frown.

"What?" he asked, pure exhaustion in his eyes, voice, and all over his face.

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

A flash of frustration flickered in the deep-blue of his gaze. "What's the matter now?"

"You still act like my time here is temporary. When I don't want it to be."

He exhaled another deep sigh. "Can we not do this right now?"

"I tried not to, and you pushed for me to tell you. I know you're tired. I know those are terrible people down there. I know all of this, which is why I didn't want to bring up my feelings. But you pushed. I love it here, Bennett. I want to figure out a way to move here. I don't know how, but I want to find a way. Whether we're together or not. But it just seems to me that you have an expiration date on this … relationship. That you've almost got a countdown going on until you're rid of me and my baggage. Of my indecisiveness. I can tell that you find it annoying that I'm thirty-five, with a ton of education and degrees behind me.

"And yet, I'm trying to find myself again. I know you don't need that on your plate. I know you don't understand that I'm not sure I want to, or can, return to medicine. That you think I'm giving up too easily. I know all of this. I see it on your face. I hear it when you speak and in your tone. So maybe we should just call it now. End it before hearts truly get tangled in the mess. I'll just be your guest and you can just be my … landlord or whatever. I'll even move back into cabin five when The Earl of Evil and the Countess of Cruel move out."

Crap! She should have called Ashli the Countess of Cruel earlier when she was talking to Tad.

Confusion swam in his gaze. "Justine, I …" He hung his head. "I just don't know how it would work. I can't make sense of the logistics. There is nothing for sale here. And we don't have Bonn's land. And we may never get it. Where are you going to move?"

She knew it was too soon for him to offer for her to move in with him, but just like she'd been an imbecile wishing she'd gotten pregnant the first time they had sex against the tree, even though she had fibroids and a hostile uterus, now she was also an imbecile wishing now that he'd invite her to move in with him. Brooke moved in with Clint after only a few weeks. So it could work if both people in the relationship wanted it to.

Only in this case, just one person in the relationship wanted to.

Did only one person in this relationship even want the relationship?

Was this just a fling to him?

He has kids to think about. He has a life here and a business with his family. You're expecting him to just change his whole world because of your whim? You're just chasing the high of being this happy, but it's not realistic or logical.

Of course, her conscience—with her mother's voice—was right. It was annoying, but it was right.

Leaning over, she pecked him on the cheek. "I get it. It's okay. You're probably right. I'm going to go to bed though. You should too."

Sadness creased his face, then pain when she shook herself free of his grip on her wrist. "Justine …"

She slid into her flip-flops and reached for the door handle, emotion a hard, unforgiving lump in the back of her throat. "Goodnight, Bennett."

He barely slept a fucking wink.

And he should have slept a whole fuck-ton of winks. He was bagged when he arrived home after setting up for the wedding, and the emotional havoc his discussion with Justine had on him didn't help at all. It was what kept him awake all night.

What did she want from him?

A commitment?

How could he commit to someone who didn't really know what they wanted in life anymore? Someone who was finding herself? Sure, she wanted to move here now, but what if her path of self-discovery pulled her back to Seattle? Or San Francisco? Or Munich? He had two children, a life, and a business here. His life was good, even if it was chaotic. And although he wasn't ruling out the idea of a relationship anymore, or finding love again, he wanted someone who was as solid in their life as he was. Who wanted the same things that he wanted.

He slept in and didn't go for a run, even though he didn't actually sleep.

Did Justine end it last night?

Was her saying, "Maybe we should call it now," her way of breaking things off?

A quick glance at his phone said it was seven thirty. Still early, but later than his usual Saturday wake-up time of four forty-five.

He slid out of bed and headed to the shower.

Today was going to be a shit show, even if everything went smoothly.

Two of the worst people in the world were marrying each other, and because he was greedy, he agreed to host their nuptials and feed all their stupid friends and family.

Think of the money. Think of the money. Think of the money.

Yeah, that was all he was thinking about right now.

And thank fucking god, he not only had the Viscount and Viscountess of Vile pay a deposit of half the fee when they signed the contract, but he made Tad pay the rest in full yesterday. So there was no way those two could put everyone on the property through hell, then skip out on the bill.

The kids were still asleep. So after he got dressed, he headed downstairs to enjoy a cup of much-needed coffee in peace on his back sundeck. His stomach was in knots, so a breakfast beyond a protein shake was out of the question.

Dom and Wyatt planned to head down to the pub around nine, and the service was at three in order to take advantage of low tide. It felt like they had a lot of time, but they really didn't.

Tad and Ashli wanted to rent out all the cabins for their guests, but obviously, that was impossible. So they hired Gabe Griswald, who ran the passenger-only water taxi, to pick everyone up from the dock at midnight and shuttle them back to Seattle, where a big bus would pick them up.

It was a clever idea. And their only solution since nothing was available to rent on the island—not even campsites—this last minute.

Noise upstairs alerted him to his daughters being awake, and one-by-one they trudged down in their pajamas with their wild hair and sleep-crusted eyes.

"Can we have pancakes for breakfast?" Aya asked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. Her dark blonde curls were wild around her head.

"I'm afraid I don't have time today," he said, welcoming her onto his lap in the lounge chair on the deck.

She pouted. "Frozen waffles then?"

He nodded. "I'll make pancakes tomorrow."

She snuggled into him. "I had fun last night with Justine. Can she be in charge of us again?"

Guilt raked through him, clawing at his chest and belly. "We'll see," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You have terrible morning breath, Little Bug."

Giggling, she breathed right on his nose. "Do I?"

"Oh god. It's like something died in your mouth. Go brush your teeth, you rancid beast." He stood up, causing her to tumble on to the leg portion of the lounge chair in a fit of giggles.

He returned to the kitchen, where Emerson was busy getting her bread into the toaster for her peanut butter toast. "'Morning, sunshine."

She beamed at him like the little ray of sunshine that she was. "'Morning, Dad."

Aya followed him into the house too. "What is Justine doing today?"

"She's going to yoga, then the spa with Brooke," Emme said, opening the fridge to get herself the peanut butter.

"That's right. Uncles Dom, Wyatt, Jagger, and I will be working down at the pub as we're hosting a wedding. So Uncle Clint is on kid-duty today."

"Ooh, a wedding," Aya cooed. "Can we come watch?"

"No."

She pouted again. "No fair."

"Is the wedding of the man who hurt Justine?" Emerson asked.

"Someone hurt Justine?" Aya's big, brown eyes were the size of saucers. "Who would do that? How'd he hurt her? Did she punch him back?" She turned to Bennett. "Can I punch him, Dad?"

Too many questions for that hour of the morning. He needed more coffee. Topping himself up from the French press, he blinked a few times and took a cautious sip, turning to Emerson first to address her question. As well as ask a few of his own follow up ones. "What did Justine tell you?"

Emme shrugged. "I saw her yesterday when I was sketching and she was upset. I asked her what happened, and she said her old boyfriend who broke her heart tried to hurt her again. She said he said some really mean things. I brought her into the house, gave her a glass of water and a hug. Then she seemed better. We sketched together outside until Aya returned with Uncle Clint. Is the man getting married today, Justine's old boyfriend?"

"Maybe it's two women getting married, or two men," Aya said to her sister. "You don't know."

"It's a man and a woman," Bennett said, loving how progressive his kids were. "And yes, it is the same man. And yes, he did hurt Justine's heart."

Shit. No wonder she was in such a weird mood when he came home last night. Why didn't she tell him she ran into Tad? And what did that motherfucker say to her? He needed to check to see if she was okay.

"So he didn't hit her? Does that mean I can't punch him?" Aya asked.

Bennett sipped his coffee again. No amount of caffeine would ever help him wrangle Aya's brain or intensity. "No. He didn't hit her. He hurt her with his words and actions. And absolutely not. You cannot punch him. We don't hit."

Aya rolled her eyes. "Unless they hit first though, right? Self-defense."

He opened the freezer on the fridge and pulled out a box of frozen waffles, tossing them onto the counter. "Make yourself some breakfast, child."

Aya shrugged and hopped to it, plunking two frozen discs into the toaster.

"Are you guys okay here for a minute? You're not going to burn down the house if I run and check on Justine?" He was addressing Emme, but then realized he was putting a lot of responsibility on her again, and hesitated to leave. He could wait until Aya's waffles were toasted and both girls were sitting eating their breakfast at the table.

He drank more coffee, and once the toaster popped up, he got the all clear from the girls and booked it out the front door.

He rapped on the trailer door.

No answer.

He rapped again, this time louder.

Still no answer.

"Justine!"

Clint meandered out his front door. "They headed to the sunrise yoga class this morning. Then they're off to the spa for the day. I thought Justine told you." He leaned against the post that held up the overhang for his front porch. "Everything okay?"

"No," Bennett said. "Tad talked to her yesterday and I'm worried he fucked with her head."

Clint sipped his coffee. "I am very glad I'm on kid-duty and don't have to deal with those fuckers. Dom was fit to be tied last night."

"I know."

"Text her."

He pulled out his phone and nodded as he headed back to his own house, and shot off a quick message to Justine.

I hate how we left things last night. Let's talk, please. I wish you'd told me you ran into Tad. I'm so sorry if he said things to upset you. I really do want to talk.

He didn't expect an answer. She was probably in downward dog, or tree pose, or something. But hopefully, she checked her messages between yoga and the spa. He wanted to know that she was okay.

That they were okay.

She still had a few weeks left on the island. That was plenty of time for them to figure things out. For them to make a plan and for her to discover a new passion. Even if that passion wasn't medicine.

But his bigger fear was if she realized it also wasn't him.

As he figured, the day blew by.

Dom, Wyatt, Jagger, and Bennett were run off their feet getting everything ready for the wedding. Guests began to arrive around two, which meant the first round of appetizers needed to start circulating.

Jagger and Bennett were dressed up in black slacks and black button-ups. They looked like waitstaff, but whatever. Neither of them had very many dressy clothes. So they wore what was clean and formal- ish .

Unfortunately, the sun also decided to try to roast the earth—or at least just the Pacific Northwest that day—so Bennett was sweating through his fucking shirt by one.

"I need to change," he murmured to Jagger who had sweat droplets on his mustache.

"Me too. But we can't leave. The ceremony is about to start soon."

They took turns standing in front of a fan in the back of the kitchen as Wyatt and his staff zoomed around getting more appetizers on trays for the waitstaff to take out.

A server poked her head into the kitchen. "Bennett, the groom has asked to speak with you."

"Thanks, Gabby." He stood for one more second in front of the fan before leaving it to Jagger and following Gabby out to the front of the bar where a cummerbund-wearing Tad stood waiting for him beside the bar. The man was in all off-white, and his tuxedo jacket even had tails. He looked stupid. He looked pompous. He looked like a right idiot and it took a lot of effort on Bennett's part to not smirk when he greeted the man. "How can I help you, Mr. DuPonte?"

"It's Dr . DuPonte," Tad corrected, sipping from the lowball tumbler of some amber liquid he held in his probably million-dollar hand. "And, I'm just wondering what we can do about the heat."

"About the heat?"

"Yes, it's sweltering. Do you not have air-conditioning?"

Bennett gnashed his molars together until he thought they might chip. "We do. But the bride wanted all the sliding doors to be opened so that the patio and restaurant became one big, open-concept room. If we close the doors, we can turn on the air-conditioning. But to put on the air-conditioning with the doors open is kind of redundant."

"Well, do you not have fans or something then?" Beads of sweat danced along Tad's hairline and his cheeks were a rosy pink.

"We don't typically need them because we have air-conditioning."

Tad's nostrils flared. "So we just have to cook, then?"

"After the ceremony, we can ask the bride what she would like. But for now, I'd rather we go with her wishes and keep everything open. There is a very nice breeze outside coming off the water. And the ceremony will be down on the beach, where it will be cooler."

Tad merely grunted, sipped his drink, and then drained it. He snagged Dom's attention behind the bar and ordered another one, walking away from Bennett without even giving him a second glance.

Think of the money. You're doing this for the money. Their deposit paid for the restoration. Think of the money.

Once Dom refilled the groom's drink, Bennett sidled up and his brother plunked an icy club soda with a lime in front of him. "May they live a long and miserable life together," Dom said.

"From your mouth to the universe's ears."

"How's Justine today?" Dom asked, mopping up a wet spot on the bar.

"I don't know. She was off last night, and I didn't know why. Then I found out she spoke with that douche. I went to talk to her this morning, but she'd already headed to yoga with Brooke."

"They're spending all day at the spa though, right? Like she's not coming back here?"

"No. She's not coming back here until later. I'm glad she's going to the spa. I just wish we'd had a chance to speak first."

He sipped his club soda, relishing the way it cooled down his entire body. He hadn't noticed until he set his glass down on the bar that Tad wasn't that far away anymore. He was standing on the fringes, easily within eavesdropping distance. How much of Dom and Bennett's conversation did he hear?

The bride's mother, dressed in a long, light-blue gown with—in Bennett's opinion—way too many sequins, came into the dining room. "It's almost three. Why aren't people down at the beach?"

Tad glanced at Bennett. "Isn't it your job to let us know when it's time?"

The crowd began to funnel out the front door and head to the chairs on the beach.

Jagger and Bennett fell in line behind the stragglers, ushering them around the corner of the pub and down to the sand, where white folding chairs were set up in several rows with an aisle between them. A cute altar made of driftwood, which Bennett borrowed from a generous islander, sat at the end of the aisle, adorned with flowers from another generous islander's garden. The minister was already there, waiting.

Once the guests were seated to the music of a string quartet off to the side, the procession started.

First, Tad was escorted down the aisle by his mother, who kissed him on the cheek, then found her seat beside Tad's father in the front row. Then it was the Best Man with the Maid of Honor. And finally, the song changed, everyone stood, and out came Ashli—with a fucking crown—on the arm of her father.

"Is the Princess actually wearing a crown?" Jagger murmured to Clint as they stood at the back in the shade, with their hands clasped in front of them like good marines.

"It would appear so."

"I cannot wait for this day to be fucking over."

"Amen, brother."

Ashli's dad kissed her cheek and passed her off to Tad, then he went to the other side of the aisle to sit with Ashli's mother.

The bride's dress was flowy enough that you indeed couldn't see her baby bump. If they'd waited another few weeks, that might not have been the case.

Even though it was probably no more than five minutes, the minister's speech seemed to last forever. Nearly every guest fanned themselves with the program, as the sun beat down on all their heads with zero remorse.

"And now," the minister started, "I must ask if there is any reason in which these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, that you speak now, or forever hold your peace."

The only sound heard was the chirp of a nearby bird and the soft lapping of the waves at slack tide.

Maybe Bennett was imagining things, but he could have sworn he saw Ashli exhale in relief.

The minister smiled and nodded. "All right then, we may—"

"Wait!" Footsteps thundered down the earth and onto the sand, and a man with dark hair, a gray T-shirt, and jeans ran to the back of the aisle. "I have something to say."

Gasps echoed through the guests.

"Joey, no!" Ashli pleaded.

"You can't do this to me, Ashli. That could be my baby. I deserve to know if I'm going to be a father. And you deserve to know that I love you and want to be with you."

Bennett's jaw nearly hit the sand.

"Oh, this is so fucking good," Jagger said with excitement. He already had his phone out and was turning on the video recorder. "I should have brought popcorn."

"What the hell is going on?" Tad demanded. "Who is this guy? What is he talking about?"

Ashli's face wasn't just red because of the sun now. "I –"

"I want a paternity test," Joey said. "If the baby is mine, I want to be in its life."

"Did you cheat on me?" Tad asked, his nostrils flaring and cheeks going an alarming shade of red.

"I –" Tears tumbled down Ashli's cheeks. "You wouldn't leave her . You promised me you would, and you didn't. It was only a few times, Joey and me. And we used condoms."

"Except for that one time in my truck," Joey added, unhelpfully.

She glared at him.

Jagger giggled, then hid it with a cough and covered his mouth with his fist.

Like the man was playing connect the dots in his head, Tad's pale-blue eyes grew wider and wider until the lightbulb flicked on and rivaled the sun. "You got an amnio a few weeks ago. You said it was because of some genetic disorder in your family. Was it actually for a paternity test?"

Now the tears fell like a monsoon down Ashli's cheeks, streaking through her thick foundation.

"Am I even the father?" Tad asked, his voice hollow.

Ashli was now hyperventilating. But nobody moved to help her. "I … I wanted it to be you." She turned to Tad, her hand on her chest as it rose and fell rapidly. "I wanted it to be you so badly. You're the better choice for a husband and father. And I thought … I just thought that once you met him, you wouldn't care, even if you did find out."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Joey barked. "Am I fucking trailer trash to you or something?

"This is over," Tad said, stalking back down the aisle.

"Tad, please," Ashli called, reaching for him, but he shook her off. "Tad, no. Please!" Her gaze slid to Joey, who was just shaking his head, a crushed look on his face.

"I want to be in my kid's life," Joey choked out. "But not yours now that I know what you really think of me." Then he turned, with a hung head, and made his way back around the pub.

Ashli stood at the altar, bawling, on her knees with her face in her hands as the Maid of Honor, Best Man, and minister all stood there stunned.

"Well, I guess we need to figure out what to do with all this food and booze," Jagger said with a big shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm thinking … party ?"

Jagger might have been thinking "party ," but Bennett was only thinking of Justine.

Not only did she need to hear it from him in person that the wedding of the damned wasn't going to happen and she could return to the property—to him—at anytime, but he also needed to tell her how big of an idiot he was.

Who cared that they'd only known each other for two weeks? It was two of the happiest, most wonderful two weeks he'd had in a very long time. He adored her. His girls adored her. And just like she was working on taking risks, like Emme was working on taking risks, maybe Bennett needed to do the same. Because jumping into a new relationship after the death of a spouse was going to have its challenges. But when you found someone who was worth the risk like Justine was worth the risk, you didn't just sit idly by and let them leave. You fought for that new joy they brought into your life. And she brought so much joy.

He would help her find a place—maybe his—or if she wanted to take it slow, he'd help her find somewhere to stay. Either cabin five, or they'd rent or buy a different RV. But whatever it took to help her achieve her dream of moving to the island, he'd help her. Because he and his brothers had a dream too. To raise their children on the island, and they achieved that dream. Why shouldn't Justine get to achieve that dream as well?

He glanced at Jagger. "I need to go."

"Seeing two terrible people get what they deserve make you realize what you deserve?" he asked with a smirk. "Is that what it takes for you to have your come to Jesus moment?"

"I guess so." He took off toward his truck.

It wasn't so much about what he deserved. But what Justine deserved. And that was joy. That was peace. That was her dreams coming true.

Hopefully, he wasn't too late, and maybe, just maybe, those dreams also included him.