Page 10 of Forgotten Pieces

Everyone piles into my Tahoe and we head out to the farm. I try not to get lost in my thoughts on the drive. I volunteered to drive because I shouldn’t drink too much, according to my psychiatrist. But I know what I am walking into. I don’t do well in social situations after the incident. Drinks with a few friends is okay but a large party is a lot to handle. I clench my fists on the wheel and take three deep breaths. I feel a small hand on my forearm and glance over at Shelley. She has a concerned look on her face but I know it’s because she worries about me. I let the comfort of her touch calm me for the rest of the drive.

I stare in awe as we pull up to the antebellum house. The giant wraparound porch and huge columns give the house a regency style you wouldn’t expect out of an old farmhouse. It truly is a work of art and I know Harper helped make it that way. It gives me a feeling of anticipation for the house Shelley and I are building for our future.

I park in the line of cars along the side of the house and take Shelley’s hand as she joins me in front of the car.

“This house is so beautiful,” she says in wonderment as we follow a candlelit path along the side of the house. The path leads to a giant back deck complete with an outdoor bar and pool. Down the steps of the deck to the back acres of the house the ceremony seating is set next to a small lake. Magnolia trees line the pathway to the lake and even I am taken aback by the pure serenity of this place.

I stand with Shelley and the girls as the guys go and grab us drinks from the bar. I try to keep up with the small talk when they return, but it’s hard. I find more comfort in staring out into the farmland than the hand that is holding mine.

A weird feeling turns my stomach and I glance toward the bar by chance.

I knew she would be here. She is the groom’s sister. But I didn’t think I would have the guttural reaction I am having. My breath leaves my lungs, the fog hovering in my mind completely evaporates like it’s been hit with the warmth of the sun. She was beautiful when I first met her but she was young, barely legal. Now she is all woman. Before she used to pretend to be a seductress but now, I can tell she is. She knows how to lure men, entice them with her emerald eyes, draw them into the magic that is Tacoma. A longing I haven’t felt in over a year hits me so hard I almost fall over. The need to talk to her overwhelms the feeling running through my dick. I haven’t felt sexually attracted to anyone since the accident that caused my PTSD but now I want nothing more than to wrap that plump body around me and take those succulent lips into my mouth, taste her flesh in the way I never allowed myself, finally feel what it’s like to be inside that body.

“Hey, you okay?” Shelley whispers into my ear.

I blink a few times and turn my attention back toward my friends. I clear my throat. “Yeah, just got lost in thought. The beauty of this place is calming.”

Shelley smiles at me and places a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’m glad you feel better.”

I choose our seats and sit as far back as possible without seeming awkward. I also choose a seat farthest from the end in hopes that I will avoid her view. I know it’s inevitable that she will see me. And I’m not sure if she will slap me or have the same reaction I had to her. It’s hit or miss with us. We’ve always been like that.

“You seem on edge again,” Shelley whispers in my ear.

I look over at her and smile, grabbing her hand. “I’m just anxious for our wedding.”

She leans over and gives me a kiss. “Me too.”

I never told Shelley about Tacoma. There was no reason to. She was a fling. She should have been forbidden. But the fruit was too tempting. In hindsight, I should have told her when we got invited to Easton’s wedding. That’s the thing about small towns, everyone knows everyone. That’s how we found Harper as a designer for our custom home. Ben and Thomas are Easton’s cousins and they let me know his fiancée was a designer. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that everyone is somehow connected, but I was surprised to hear Easton was engaged. Especially since the last time I saw Easton or Tacoma, Easton was married to his high school sweetheart.

“Yo cuz.”

I glance up to see my cousin standing next to me. “Hey Mac.”

“I didn’t think you would come... ugh I mean make it here,” he says, glancing at my fiancée and then in the direction of Tacoma.

Shelley cuts in before I can answer, “Of course he was coming. Harper is designing us a beautiful home. We couldn’t miss her wedding. It’s all she’s been talking about.”

“Right, I get that. I just didn’t think he’d be back from Jacksonville in time.”

Nice recovery, Mac.

“Okay, well I’m gonna grab my seat. I had Harper sit us at the same table since y’all don’t know many people. See ya later, cuz.”

I wave at him as he walks off and takes a seat on the groom’s side.

The ceremony and dinner service go well. I am glad Mac is at our table. He keeps the conversation going, letting me stew in my own thoughts. Luckily, Shelley is halfway to wasted, so she isn’t worrying about me.

I excuse myself and head to the bar, no one seeming to care. I walk over and order a whiskey. I relax against the bar, both elbows folded over the top as I take a deep breath, reminding myself it’s just a few hours more. I’ve managed to avoid Tacoma but I am not sure how much longer I can keep up with the game.

The bartender slides my whiskey over just as I hear the voice I wanted to avoid, the sultry voice I could never get out of my head, right next to me. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

Chapter Five

Tacoma

I sip on a glass of wine as I watch my sister and Ivy fuss over Harper’s wedding dress. I swirl it around in the glass, wondering how I got here. How my sister is married and happier than I have ever seen her in my entire life. And how my brother is the same. Finally marrying someone who loves him for the man he is.

Everyone thought when we were young that I would be the first to get hitched. Not that I care. I am happy being single. Well, I was happy being single. I never cared if I got married first or last. But as reality hits me in the face, I realize deep down I kind of do care.

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