Chapter Twenty-five
Mason
“I get it, man. You and Em . . . you’ve been on your own for a while. It’s a matter of pride that you can make it that way. But you did. You made it. And you’re not alone anymore. You have friends and it’s alright to let those friends celebrate you guys once and a while. Especially on your wedding day. This is our gift to you, Ash and I. No refunds, no exchanges. It would be rude not to accept.”
Jay’s eyes slid across the lot to where Em was practically skipping, arm-in-arm with Ashlyn, toward Bart’s. He sighed. Mason knew a reception mattered very little to Jay. He’d gotten what he wanted out of the day. Em was his. Forever. That was all that mattered to him. That . . . and seeing her happy.
Jay shook his head at the sight of the two girls with a slight smile. Then he nodded at Mason. “Thanks, man.”
“Thank Ashlyn. It was her idea. And she was here all morning setting up.”
Bart’s hadn’t been their first choice, but with Ashlyn’s parents cutting her off and Mason suddenly paying his own expenses to live with her, their options had been limited. Still she’d found a way to make it work. White linens covered the stained and scarred tables—several of which had been pushed aside to create a dance floor—and white and silver balloons were scattered across the ceiling. Music pumped from Ashlyn’s I-pod, impressively loud through a home speaker system setup by the bar. The bar itself had a giant floral arraignment front and center, surrounded by trays wrapped in tinfoil, warming over candles.
Mason peeled back the corner on one of the trays to find stuffed shells. The others held chicken breasts covered with lemon slices, vegetables, ziti, and shrimp. Not cheap. He’d gone behind Ashlyn’s back at the beginning of the month to pay her mortgage. For days he’d expected an irate phone call, but it never came. Now he knew why. The girl was barely keeping her head above water, but she’d taken that extra money and splurged on her friends.
The sound of her laughter caused an unexpected sharp pang.
“Let’s get this party started.” Ashlyn hopped up on a barstool and started scrolling through her song selections. “Time for the first dance.”
Everyone drifted toward the sides of the dancefloor, leaving Em and Jay alone as the first strains of music floated from the speakers. Em’s head found its way to Jay’s shoulder and they swayed together. Mason had never really noticed the constant fear and worry they both wrestled, but looking at them now—at complete peace—he realized just how rare that look was for them. Ashlyn had done this, given them this moment. Sure, he’d been an investor, but this was all her idea, her planning . . . her.
He watched her, watching them, a content smile playing on her lips. She found joy in helping other people. It satisfied a need in her. And yet she struggled so much with allowing others to do for her. Mason shook his head. That selfless, stubborn girl fascinated and drove him to insanity all at the same time.
The music took an upbeat and Ashlyn stole Em to jump and spin around. The other blonde joined them and together they created some pretty fancy dance moves that kept the guys entertained for a while. Jay poured drinks and chatted with Sam, Greg, and his wife Carol. Mason sat back, sipping his beer, feeling the odd man out.
“How’s it going?” The guy who’d come with the blonde slid onto the stool beside him. “Dean.”
He offered his hand and Mason accepted. “Mason. Looks to be going pretty well.”
Dean nodded, leaning back to prop his elbows on the bar top. “So, how do you know the happy couple?”
“Work.” It was the simplest answer. “You?”
“I don’t. Allie knows them from . . .” A shadow crept over his face and that was answer enough for Mason. “. . . the past.”
The streets was what he meant to say. Mason looked at the happy girl jumping around on the dancefloor. Long blonde hair flipping around behind her and a bossy, no-nonsense attitude, she reminded him a lot of Ashlyn. He tried to imagine what could have happened to that girl to drive her from her home and found he didn’t want to know.
“Well . . .” Mason swallowed the lump in his throat and took another sip of his beer. “Seems like the present is looking up.”
“And the future, I hope.” Dean’s eyes remained glued to his girlfriend as he idly twisted the gold band on his finger.
Not his girlfriend. His wife. They were married, too. Jeez. Polishing off his bottle, Mason set it aside and reminded himself that he was only twenty-two. There was no rush to tie the knot. Sure, Jay was a year younger and if he had to guess, he’d say Dean and Allie were about the same. And Em was only nineteen, for chrissakes, but that wasn’t normal.
Another slow song came on and Ashlyn trotted over to shove Jay back out on the floor to his bride. Greg spun his wife and her laughter filled the room. Beside them, Allie had her hands on her hips and Dean slid off his stool with a laugh.
Mason watched the two younger couples as they danced. It made sense for Em and Jay to marry young. He didn’t know much about Dean and Allie, but from the way he held her—like he wanted to shelter her from everything—Mason assumed their story was just as complicated. When you lived in that kind of world and you find something good, something that makes you happy, it made sense to hang on to it.
Mason didn’t live in their world, he hadn’t experienced the nightmares and hardships they’d had to endure, but that desperation—the desire to protect regardless the cost—that he understood.
Wandering over to where Ashlyn was standing, he took her cup and set it aside. “Water?”
She shrugged. “I’m driving.”
That’s right. Because she was afraid of getting close to him. Well, that ended now. “Dance with me?”
“I . . .” She glanced at her cup sitting on the table and back at him. “I don’t think—”
“Dance with me.” If she wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted, he wasn’t going to ask.
Taking her hand, he drew her out onto the dancefloor and pulled her into his arms. Christ, she fit so perfectly there. Almost as though she was made for him. The sweet scent of her shampoo tickled his nose and Mason shut his eyes. He missed this. Missed her.
As the song wound down, Sam tapped his fork against the side of his glass and Jay bent to take Em’s mouth. Everyone cheered, Mason included, but something inside felt hollow as Ashlyn pulled free of his embrace.