Page 44 of Every Rose

Chapter Fifteen

“There you are!” A cheerful voice hailed them. It was Sarah, not only a chatterbox but also one of the biggest gossips in all of Oregon. Fortunately, she’d already pulled away from Matt and was at that moment repairing her lipstick. Sarah’s gaze darted from one to the other.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” she said, so clearly hoping otherwise that Rose could see her mentally composing her Facebook post as she stood there.

“Actually, you did interrupt something. Something pretty important,” Matt said easily.

If she kicked him Sarah would notice, ditto if she glared at him so she set her teeth and waited, wondering how much damage control would be required after he’d puffed out his chest and pounded on it for a while.

“Rose was asking my advice about one of her patients who has a heart condition. You know how it is, when you have superior knowledge, it’s good to share.”

Her jaw dropped. As a way to deflect the nosy bridesmaid’s attention from any idea that they’d been passionately kissing mere seconds ago, suggesting they were discussing a patient was a brilliant ruse. But to paint her as needing his superior advice? She almost thought she’d rather have Sarah broadcasting their clandestine make-out session.

“Whatever,” Sarah replied, obviously uninterested in any conversation that lacked gossip value. “It’s almost time for dinner and speeches. Theresa told me to tell you.”

“Great. Thanks for coming to find us.”

The three of them headed to the ballroom together, but Sarah headed off to the washroom. As soon as she was out of sight, Rose smacked Matt lightly on the arm. “Your superior knowledge? Seriously?”

He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself and completely unrepentant. “What? I had to say something. I could tell her about this sound you make when you start getting turned on. It’s not a purr, or a growl exactly, kind of a–“

“Thank you. I get it.” She would not blush. She was a medical professional, a woman of thirty-one. So what if she had been mixing it up with one very sexy surgeon. They were both single. Why shouldn’t they?

A thought hit her like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. Theresa had said his love life was in the ‘it’s complicated’ territory.

She turned to him, amid the noisy chaos of two hundred guests finding their places in the big banquet hall. “Wait a minute. You are single aren’t you?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m single.”

“Okay, good.” But she scanned his face.

“You said that like you think I’m lying.”

“No. It’s just that Theresa said your relationship status was ‘it’s complicated.’”

He looked smug rather than guilty. “You asked about me?”

“No!” And how stupid to give him any reason to think she had. “Someone else asked. I overheard.”

He put a hand under her elbow and shepherded her toward the top table where they were both seated. “I did have a mostly casual relationship. But that’s over now.”

“Oh. When did it end?”

He winced like this was not a question he’d been prepared for. “Wednesday.”

She glanced at him. “Wednesday, as in three days ago?”

“Yes. That Wednesday.”

She allowed herself a moment to feel flattered. Of course, he and his casual friend could have broken up for all kinds of reasons, but she thought the timing was significant. Wednesday was the day he’d come to apologize for kissing her the night of the stag. Wednesday was the day he’d told her that this was not over. She didn’t say any more, simply filed that nugget of information away.

The wedding banquet was both the same as every other wedding banquet she’d ever attended and different. There were the speeches, the predictable banquet food, the first dance, the hugs, the tears. When it was time for Theresa to throw her bouquet, Rose only took part because she’d look conspicuous if she didn’t. However, she made certain to stand far back. She had no plans to marry anytime soon and no interest in some ridiculous tradition that involved fighting other women for second-hand flowers.

Theresa, however, had been a jock in school and still worked out regularly. When she threw her bouquet over her head she put everything she had into her throw so the large bouquet exploded into the air as though from a rocket-launcher, sailed up and over her head and blasted into the heavy crystal chandelier.

The bouquet had lasted through hours of being carried, set down, picked up again, and dropped a time or two. The chandelier had hung, gracious and elegant for the better part of two centuries. The impact of bouquet with chandelier was more than either was built to withstand. As the huge bouquet hit the enormous light fixture, sparkles of light, blooms and rose petals exploded into the air. Showers of lily, rose, green fern, some yellow scented thing, and bits of wire and ribbon rained down. Rose felt a confetti of plant material hit her head and shoulders and one perfect, white rosebud sailed in front of her so she instinctively reached for it before it fell to the floor.

Amid the laughter and exclamations, she retreated back to her seat, brushing fern from her shoulders.

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