Page 40 of His Hot Mess

“How you feeling buddy?" he asked, laughter at the edges of his voice.

"Like I don't feel like talking,” I grumbled, and Graydon did laugh then, making me scowl even deeper. Once Graydon had safely lowered the pan onto the table, I swung a half-hearted fist out at him, catching him squarely in the shoulder with a satisfyingthwack.

"Ow!" Graydon exclaimed.

"Would you look at that?” I said. "I haven't even taken a bite and I'm feeling better.”

* * *

After breakfast,I helped Graydon and Lucy clean up from the previous night's festivities. It took us a good couple of hours, but once the bottles were piled up in boxes for recycling, the dishwasher was running, and counters were cleared and wiped down, I went to work on repairing the fallen shower-curtain rod. Luckily only the screws had pulled loose and none of the tile needed replacing. By some miracle the curtain wasn't ripped either, and even with the brain fog of a hangover plus relieving last night a thousand times over, I had everything up and looking like new by the time Graydon came back from bringing everything out to the driveway.

“Alright, you're forgiven for trashing my house, Slade.”

“You want another bruising?” I asked.

Graydon grinned. “I could take you.”

Lucy said goodbye as she left to run some errands, and I told Graydon I’d better get home too. I’d had grand plans to get up early and go for a run this morning, then to take care of some maintenance on my place. But right now, all I wanted to do was crash until this headache went away. Plus, if I slept, I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about Sadie. And last night.

“Stay for a bit? It’s almost lunch,” Graydon said. “I’ve got a shit-ton of burgers left over from last night.”

I opened my mouth to say no thanks, but Graydon was looking at me expectantly. Clearly he wanted the company. More food might help my still-slightly-wobbly stomach, I rationalized.

“Alright,” I said, acquiescing. “Just for lunch.”

After we’d fixed up a couple of burgers and I’d downed another much-needed glass of water, we settled in two lounge chairs on the back deck overlooking the water. It was a gorgeous day—sun glinted off Emerald Lake so brightly I had to pull my cap down low over my eyes. As I chowed down on my burger, Gray told me about his progress in renovating the old barn behind his house. He and Lucy were getting married at the church in town—the same place Graydon’s parents had been married, twenty years before they passed. But the reception would be held in the big old barn on his property, a remnant from when his place was a homesteader’s cabin.

“I took the old horse stalls out last weekend,” he said around his burger. “This weekend I’m doing the floors.”

Graydon explained he was laying a floor, adding stairs to the loft, and enlarging the opening so it could be an indoor/outdoor space.

I wasn't one for big parties, but I had to admit it sounded like it was going to be amazing.

“So that’s why you wanted me to stick around,” I said.

“Nah, you've done enough," Graydon said. Then, seeing the expression on my face, he laughed. “Sorry, I'll stop. Seriously, it’s good for me to have a project on my own. Contemplative, you know? All I need from you is the best man’s speech. How’s that going by the way? All written out and rehearsed?”

I groaned inwardly. “Of course.”

The truth was, even though the wedding was closing in, I hadn’t started on the speech. Normally I liked to do things well before they needed doing—that was how I rolled. But every time I sat down to write it, it felt like a boulder had gotten lodged in my belly. It wasn’t about Graydon and Lucy—they were perfect for each other, and I really liked Lucy. There was just something about the idea of getting up in front of a crowd, at a wedding, that filled me with dread. I told myself it was the thought of public speaking that was making me feel ill. I really did hate it—I could have a decent conversation one-on-one, but put me in front of a crowd, with a fucking microphone? The idea made me want to hurl. Or maybe that was the hangover. But even though that part sucked, I knew that wasn’t it. I didn’t know what was holding me up. It had nothing to do with being at a wedding again, that much I knew. Nothing at all.

The wedding album on my coffee table flashed in my mind.

No.

“You don’t have to give one, you know,” Graydon said, his eyes on me.

My discomfort must have been obvious.

“I won’t be insulted,” he continued. “It’s just for balance.”

But the reminder that Graydon’s only other speech would come from his sister made my stomach twist with guilt. Graydon’s parents were dead, his grandparents too. He only had Casey left. It was the whole reason I’d offered to give a speech, even though on any other occasion I’d rather poke my eyes out than get up in front of a hundred wedding guests to pour my heart out.

I didn’t do private professions of affection, let alone public ones.

“I’m giving you a speech,” I gritted out.

God, even the wordmade me nauseous.

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