Chapter 9
Later that night, Rylie got wasted, which she never did, especially at a client’s wedding. She was the epitome of responsible, but after this morning with Dustin and the flowers she’d found on her car today after lunch, she’d needed a drink.
Or five or seven. She’d lost count after a while.
She didn’t know what to do about Asher. He’d left flowers and a note that read I need you on her windshield. He hadn’t signed it, but she recognized his handwriting. She’d told Dustin she didn’t need a restraining order, that they didn’t work, which was true, but Asher wasn’t taking the hint and she didn’t know how to make it any clearer that it was over. She was emotionally drained and stressed.
And then there was Dustin. He’d come into work after their interlude and acted as though nothing had happened. She had no idea how he could do that, but it was maddening.
Thus the liquor to chase her troubles away.
They’d already seen late night talk show host Anderson Grady and his barely legal bride, actress Gwendolyn Thomas, into their limo and most of the guests were trickling out. There had been a guy in the corner giving her the eye most of the night, but when she hadn’t given him any signal, he’d moved on to one of the other bridesmaids.
Which was perfectly fine, because she was over men. As far as she was concerned, the entire male species could go suck a dick!
Rylie made her way to the parking lot, and climbed into her car, but she knew she couldn’t drive. Hell, she could hardly walk.
After retrieving her phone from the middle console, she dialed Marley. When it went straight to voicemail, Rylie ended the call, then squinted at her phone screen. She scrolled through her contacts, trying to make out the blurry names.
She stopped on Dustin’s, and she hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was ask for his help, but she didn’t really want to sleep it off in her car and have someone see her looking like a hot mess. And there was no way in hell she was calling Kelly or Asher.
With a sigh, she hit the green phone icon and waited for him to answer.
It rang several times and by the fourth, she almost hung up.
“Hello?” he said.
She opened her mouth to say hi, but that wasn’t what tumbled out. “I just want you to know that you behaved abomibly…adomably… You were a meanie pants and if I wasn’t out of options, I wouldn’t be calling.”
Several beats of silence before he spoke. “Rylie? Are you drunk?”
“Stupid question. Course I am drunk. Thus, the call.” She knew she was slurring but couldn’t seem to fix it. “So, will you or not?”
“Will I what? You haven’t asked me anything, just insulted me.”
She huffed in frustration. “I need a ride. Can’t drive.”
The line went silent and she called loudly, “Hello? Did you hear me?”
“Ask me nicely,” he said.
Rylie snorted. “Butt Ass.”
His deep laughter echoed through the phone. “Did you just call me butt ass?”
“Maybe.” He continued chuckling, and she said, “I like your laugh. Have I told you that?”
“Okay, I am definitely coming to get you; you’re being nice to me now. Where are you?”
She looked around, trying to piece her location together through her fuzzy brain. “In the parking lot of a church.”
“Which church?”
“Too many questions. You’re hurting my head.”
She heard tapping, as if he was texting, and the phone went quiet for several moments. Or longer. She might have dozed off before his loud voice woke her.
“What?” she moaned.
“I said I know where you are and I’m on my way. Just stay on the phone with me.”
“I’m not having phone sex with you if that is what you are asking.”
A bark of laughter exploded from the phone. “Who knew that sweet little Rylie Templeton got pervy when she’s had a few.”
“Corression,” she slurred. “I was telling you not to be a perv.”
“My bad. So, why did you get shit-faced anyway?”
“I needed one after the week I had.”
“Sounds like you had more than one.”
“You would be correct, monsieur.” She giggled and leaned her head back against the head rest when the world spun. “I always wanted to go to France. Learn to bake from a real French pastry chef.”
“Sober up, and I’ll take you.”
“Pshah, whatever.” She closed her eyes. “I always imagine France with a pink sky and fluffy white clouds above my head. And everyone sings like in the opening of Beauty and the Beast.”
“Yeah, no, it’s not like that at all.”
“You’ve been?”
“Yeah, I’ve been.”
“Bastard.”
“Wow, you also get hostile when you’ve had a few.”
It was suddenly so hot. She leaned her head against the cool glass of her car window, sighing in relief. “I’m just jealous. I’ve never been anywhere. I’m so boring.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I find you pretty interesting.”
She scrunched up her face, keeping her eyes closed. “Ha. Dirty man.”
“How was that dirty?”
“I don’t know, but it was. I can feel it in my bum.”
“I think you mean gut, sweetheart.”
Psychedelic lights were swirling behind her eyelids. “Mmmm hmmm.”
“You falling asleep on me?” he asked.
“Dah,” she mumbled.
“I’m two minutes out. Lock your doors.”
She didn’t know how long she was asleep, but when her door was yanked open, she screamed as she tumbled out. Dustin caught her with one arm before she hit the ground.
She glared up at both of his faces. “Dude, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“I did, but you were passed out. I told you to lock the door,” he said.
“I forgot.”
“Okay, drunk girl. How about we get you some coffee and you can go home to sleep it off?”
Rylie’s stomach twisted painfully and bile rose in her throat. “Uh oh.”
“What uh oh?”
She pulled away from him in time to fall to her knees and vomit the contents of her stomach. The tea length skirt of her peach colored bridesmaids’ dress saved her knees from the sharp rocks of the gravel parking lot. Not her palms, though, which throbbed as the hard points dug into her skin.
Rylie felt warm hands rubbing her neck and back as she heaved. When the sick feeling finally passed, she rolled to sit on her butt against her car, not even a little sad that the dress would most likely be streaked with dirt and oil.
“Feel better?” he asked as he squatted down in front of her.
“Tired.”
“Well, come on. I think I have some wet wipes and mints in my car.”
“Middle console,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
She heard the car door open and a few moments later, Dustin was wiping a wet towelette across her mouth and chin.
She sputtered and held her hands up weakly. “I can do it.”
“It’s already done. Here, chew on this.”
She looked down at the white piece of gum in his hand and took it before slipping it past her lips. The sour taste in her mouth disappeared, and she almost sighed aloud as she perked up a bit.
He took her hands and helped her to her feet. She was still a little unsteady, but with his assistance, managed to sink into the seat of his car with a modicum of grace.
He slid behind the wheel and shut the door. “You want that coffee now?”
When she turned her head to look at him, the dome light gave him an almost halo effect.
“You’re an angel.”
He laughed again and she smiled. I really do like his laugh.
“Maybe I’ll keep you drunk. You’re a bit like a Sour Patch Kid. First you’re sour, then you’re sweet when you’ve got the beer goggles on.”
“Mmm, rum and coke glasses, actually. Open bar.”
“No wonder you’re sick.”
She couldn’t process what he meant so she just shrugged. “I’m sick cause I don’t really drink and I seeded my limits.”
“I think you meant exceeded, but I think it’s cute when you mispronounce things.”
She glared at him with one eye open. “A nice man would not make fun of me in my current condition.”
“Sweetheart, I think we both know I’m not that nice.”
She opened both of her eyes again to look at his profile. “You came and got me. That makes you kind of nice.”
“Well, thank you. You’re going to turn my head with compliments like that.”
“As long as it isn’t while you’re driving, that’s okay,” she mumbled.
His pleasant chuckle was the last thing she heard before she passed out again.
* * * *
Dustin parked the car in front of Love on the Corner gas station and leaned forward so he could see Rylie’s face. She was dead asleep and there was even a trail of drool running from the corner of her mouth to her chin.
It’s really weird that I find that adorable, and not grotesque.
Dustin locked the car doors and went inside the gas station. He waved at Maggie Welton, who had been hired after Marsha Hornsby had quit the month before to run off with a truck driver. He only knew that because nobody could keep a secret in this town.
He filled two large cups with a combo of white mocha and caramel lattes. It tasted good to him, and he added a couple packages of doughnuts to the purchase.
Maggie was working the cash register, and she flashed him a wide smile. She was a couple of years older than him, and was a tiny little thing. She had married her high school boyfriend, and had two children she loved to talk about. Every time he saw her, she was showing someone pictures of them on her phone.
“Hey, Dustin! Big plans tonight?”
“Just heading home, Maggie. How is Mike and the kids?”
She beamed at him. “They’re great. Makayla is in kindergarten and I cannot wait until they are both in school full-time so I can get normal daytime hours. Working nights is killing me.”
“I bet.”
She rang up his items and he swiped his card.
“Hey, I heard that Rylie Templeton is living with you,” she said in a hushed tone.
Dustin paused as he was putting in his pin. “Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, you know this town. People talk. They say that she dumped Asher for you.”
Dustin hit the green button on the power pad and clicked his tongue. “You shouldn’t believe everything people say. Rylie’s just renting my pool house. We are coworkers. That’s it.”
“Hmm. That’s too bad. Rylie is a nice girl. She’d be good for you.” Maggie lowered her voice again and asked, “Do you know why her and Asher did break up?”
Cause he’s an abusive dick head.
“No idea. It’s none of my business, but I’ll tell her you asked after her when I see her. You have a good night now.”
“You too.”
Dustin walked out the dinging door and went around to the passenger side. If Maggie looked out and saw Rylie in his car, he didn’t give a shit. Sweetheart’s citizens gave the term “nosy neighbor” a whole new meaning.
He tapped on the window and Rylie jerked awake. “I come bearing gifts. Want to unlock it?”
She opened it, reaching up to take his purchases. She seemed more alert thanks to her little nap. Which was good considering a couple times she’d groaned and he’d been afraid she was going to hurl again. The last thing he needed was puke to permeate the carpet of his car.
She looked into the bag and grinned sloppily. “Doughnuts?”
Dustin shrugged a little sheepishly. “It sounded good.”
“Oh yeah.”
He headed around the front of the car to the driver side. He took a drink of his coffee as he walked, wincing as he burned his tongue. He forgot how hot the powdered coffee and water combos were; it had been so long since he’d had one. Probably high school.
He preferred his Colombian dark roast.
Once he was behind the wheel, he turned to Rylie. “Home then?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really tired anymore.”
“Wanna head up to Buzzard Gulch and take a walk?”
He had no idea why he’d suggested the old mining town. It was dark and secluded. Creepy. Maybe because it was just another connection between them. They were renter and rentee, coworkers, business partners.
The only relationships they hadn’t formed were friendship and lovers.
“Sure. I could use the fresh air,” she said.
Dustin put the car in gear and they headed out of town, up the hill that led to the ghost town the Kents had owned until recently when Marley, Kelly, and Rylie had convinced him, forcefully, to split the deed and work on restoring it for a wedding venue. They hadn’t started the renovations. They were still in the planning stage, but Dustin was excited about it.
“Why did you decide to work at Something Borrowed?” Rylie asked.
Dustin shrugged. “Just looking for something to do.”
“But you don’t have to. If I didn’t have to work, I wouldn’t. I’d just bake and read all day.”
“Believe me, it gets boring having no purpose. That’s why you see rich people on that TV show, Shark Tank, getting involved in other people’s businesses and such.”
“But why a professional groomsman? Why not something tech-y? That’s what you studied, right?”
Dustin hesitated, knowing he couldn’t tell her the entire reason. There was no way straight as an arrow Rylie would appreciate him admitting to writing a tell-all about Something Borrowed. “The money’s good and I look smokin’ hot in a tux.”
“Oh, geez, we need to find a witch to shrink that big head of yours.”
Dustin parked in front of one of the partially burnt buildings, and flipped on the dome light before he reached across to grab his package of doughnuts. “If you were being honest, you’d admit it.”
“That you look smokin’ hot in a tux? You’re all right.”
“You mean all right all right all right?”
“Ugh, no! That is a terrible McConaughey impression.”
“I thought I delivered it.” He opened the package of doughnuts and took a big bite of one. He could feel the powdered sugar sprinkle over his chin.
“You’re going to get that all over your car,” Rylie said.
“I’ll have it detailed tomorrow.” He took another bite and groaned. “God, it has been a long time since I have had a doughnut. I forget how good they are.”
“I make better ones.”
He quirked his eyebrow at her in the dome light. “Really?”
“Yep. Different flavors too. I make this lemon one dipped in a sugar glaze that is so good. I don’t make them often because one time I ate all of them and Asher…”
She trailed off and he had a feeling her ex had been a dick about it.
“I used to stress eat as a kid,” Dustin said.
Rylie laughed. “Bullshit.”
“No, it’s true. In elementary and the start of middle school. One time, I got this D on a test and I was so stressed about telling my dad, that I ate an entire cake I found in the refrigerator that they had bought for a party they were going to. Turns out, he was so pissed about the cake, that the D didn’t even faze him.”
Rylie grabbed a doughnut from the box he held. “How did you get past it? Overeating, I mean.”
“I shot up six inches the summer after eighth grade. Started running and swimming. Exercise and getting stronger became my substitute. Turns out, it’s easy to replace one addiction with another.”
“Ha, not for me. I am allergic to running. I do like swimming though. I love dancing, too, and Marley got me into yoga. I like to try different programs, I just wish I was more consistent about it.”
“Well, you could always go with me in the morning. I usually run five K starting at six.”
“Eff that! I’d go one mile and collapse!” she said.
His eyes scanned her smiling face, the oval shape and wide brown eyes. His gaze dipped a bit to her breast peeking over the top of her peach colored bridesmaid gown and he couldn’t stop the noise of appreciation from rumbling from his lips.
“Whatever you’re doing, I think you look good.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Thank you.”
The car grew hotter than the coffee, and Dustin opened his door. “Bring your coffee and doughnut and let’s walk.”
The night had cooled, signaling that fall would be there soon. Dustin popped the last bite of his doughnut into his mouth and looked around the run-down buildings. The old mining town included a saloon, a general store, a hotel, a bank, and several other buildings that had lost their identity years before. The saloon had been nearly destroyed in a fire just a month ago, and the rest of the buildings needed a lot of work. New roofs, floors, windows. But their renovation goals were to keep the town as close to its original state as possible with a few modern conveniences.
The moon was three quarters full, and bright enough to light their way as they walked down the dirt road between the two rows of structures.
“I am so glad my bride let us wear flats tonight,” Rylie said next to him. Her enunciation had improved, and he figured she was slowly sobering up.
“Why did she?”
“Because she was only four foot eleven inches and even with heels on, the rest of her bridesmaids towered over her.”
“Yikes, that is a short woman. I’d break my neck trying to kiss her.”
Rylie laughed. “Oh please.”
“What?”
“Don’t act like you don’t like short girls. Guys love that shit. It makes them feel big and powerful.”
He shot her what he hoped was a wolfish grin and waggled his brows. “I like women of all shapes, sizes, and heights. I don’t discriminate.”
“I’ve noticed,” she grumbled.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, turning to walk backward so he could see her face in the moonlight.
She scoffed forcefully. “No. I just think you could show a little discretion about who you give yourself to, is all.”
“It’s just my body. It’s not like I fall in love with every girl I sleep with.”
Rylie threw up her hands. “That makes it worse. You should feel something if you’re being that intimate with someone.”
He would never understand some women’s hang-ups about sex. “Intimacy is living with someone and sharing a life with them. I don’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Just not interested. I like my space and my freedom. I like not having to answer to anyone else.”
She stepped up onto the boardwalk and hopped along the creaking wood planks. “Not all relationships are demanding or hard.”
“Oh yeah? How many have you had that weren’t like that?”
Her silence was his answer.
“See? Why put yourself in a position where someone else is making you miserable?”
Rylie stopped on the stoop of one of the unnamed buildings and swung around one of the porch beams, leaning toward him. “Real love isn’t like that. You have hard times and you have to work at it, but you’re happiest being around that person.”
He reached out to put his hands on her waist, afraid the beam was going to collapse and take the whole building down. “All I heard was hard and work.”
She let him lift her down back onto the dirt street. “So, what, you’re just going to be a bachelor forever? Sleeping with every woman you meet, whether she’s available or not?”
Something about her tone rankled him and he released her to cross his arms over his chest. “You got something to say?”
“You sleep with engaged women.”
“I do?”
“Sonora Star. I know you hooked up with her. Marley told me.”
Ah, is that why her attitude toward him had changed? “And?”
“And? It’s wrong.”
Why was it those two little words made him feel lower than a snake? His defenses shot up, and he tried to act cool. “They’re the ones cheating. Maybe if their fiancé was keeping them satisfied, they wouldn’t come to me.”
He couldn’t tell if her face was red, but her eyes were flashing in the moonlight. “That is a cop out! If they are that miserable, then they should break up or get a divorce. Not destroy someone who they once imagined building a life with.”
“Maybe they aren’t ready to leave. Or they aren’t sure what they want.” Why am I even arguing with her? I’m just riling her up.
Which was true, and it turned out her voice rose another octave the more riled she became. “It’s one thing to have fantasies but to actually cheat with another person is wrong, and if their partner in crime knows that they are attached, then they are just as bad, in my opinion.”
It seemed on this subject, Rylie wasn’t afraid to call it how she saw it. He’d have been almost impressed if her ire and disgust weren’t directed at him.
“Wow, how does it feel, Rylie?”
Her head cocked to the side. “How does what feel?”
“How does it feel to be morally perfect?”
Now her hands were getting into it, flailing about as she said, “I don’t think I’m perfect! This is just something I feel strongly about.”
“Yeah, I got that. But it’s not exactly your business what I do, is it?”
She didn’t respond right away, then sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It isn’t any of my business who you hook up with.”
Dustin frowned. He didn’t like the hopeless tone in her voice when she said it, as if he was beyond redemption.
What happened to not caring what people thought?
The funny thing was, he kind of did care…about Rylie. About how Rylie saw and thought of him.
Not because he wanted her, but because he liked her and valued her opinion.
He had no idea when that had happened, but he found himself saying, “If it makes you feel better, after Sonora, I’ve taken a vow to stay away from attached women.”
The flash of a smile was so full of joy, it was almost too bright to look at her face. “It does.”
“Good.”