Page 46 of Feels Like the First Time
“It’s not like that,” she laughed.
Only Marty never did. His expression was soft and serious, and full of understanding. “Why do you think he started spending so much time hanging around the house the past year?”
“Because you’re fishing friends and he’s a sucker for a free meal.”
This time Marty did laugh. “The man uses a Ping-Pong ball as a lure, and trust me, the guy could share meals with better-looking cooks than me in this town. But he keeps coming here. Why do you think that is?”
“Because he loves and respects you like a father.”
“Which is one of the reasons I keep inviting him back every week, even when it’s clear he’s been sniffing around my daughter for years now.” Ali opened her mouth to say that he was sniffing around his ex’s house, but Marty silenced her with a finger. “Before you say something smart, I want to point out that Bridget isn’t the daughter who lives here.”
Ali closed her mouth, absorbed her dad’s words, and felt her chest tighten. Not in a bad way, but it was painful because she longed for his words to be true. But she knew better than to blindly give in to a dream. “You need new glasses, then, because Bridget is blond and I’m brunette, and I’m pretty sure Hawk never dropped to a knee and promised to love me forever.”
Because if he ever had, then both of them would never be alone again. Ali knew what a catch Hawk was, would never let someone like him go. Even when he married another woman, a part of Ali had clung to the hope that what-ifs created. What if it didn’t work out, what if he realized he made a mistake and picked the wrong sister?
But all of those what-ifs led to nothing but a stagnant ache that, although it dulled over the years, never went away. And then the marriage didn’t work out, and he was suddenly single again. But he never made a move to be anything other than the doting friend—until Bridget came home and Ali pulled him back into their world.
“Bridget’s a determined woman. Once something catches her eye, she won’t stop until it’s hers, just like your mom.” To Ali’s surprise, Marty’s tone was filled with admiration and deep love. “Hawk didn’t know what hit him. And Bridget didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”
“I’m pretty sure when she said, ‘Oh my God, yes, yes, I do,’ she was on board with the whole thing.”
Marty lowered his voice. “Hawk has spent his whole life looking for someone to love, and Bridget’s spent her whole life running from it.”
“She’s a Marshal, it’s what we do.”
Marty slid Ali a look. “Good thing you’re the black sheep of the family then.”
***
The afternoon was fading by the time Ali pointed the boat in the direction of shore—and so was Ali.
Bridget forgot her affliction to moving water. Marty spent the way out detailing the finer points of sailing, Bridget spent the way back discussing the importance of proper wedding planning, and Ali spent the entire trip hard at work on the whole sharing concept.
Yesterday, she would have argued that Bridget was wrong, but after spending the day trying to be a part of the family, instead of the cog that held them together, Ali realized that when it came to navigating relationships, she was merely treading water.
And in her need to take care of everyone, she’d turned relationships that were supposed to be so simple and straightforward into something complicated.
Like now, watching her dad focus everything he had on Bridget while she detailed every bead and line of her dress. Things she knew Marty could care less about, but because it was important to Bridget, it was important to him. He wasn’t giving his opinion, or explaining that Vera Wang was probably already booked, he was just listening.
Being a parent and sharing in his daughter’s joy.
Ali had always been envious of their relationship in that way. Wanted to learn how to remove herself from the reality and participate in the whimsical side of relationships. To be impartial and avoid the conflict and hard decisions seemed freeing.
Completely foreign, but freeing nonetheless.
“Blue is a great choice,” Marty said. “It matches your seaside wedding theme. And Ali loves blue.” Marty turned toward the helm, the wind blowing his hair forward. “Don’t you, honey?”
Ali blinked. “What?”
“Weren’t you listening?” Marty asked, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the boat cutting through the water. “Since the wedding will be on the water, Bridget picked blue for her color.”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear, I was navigating,” she admitted. “What happened to the fuchsia?”
“They couldn’t get it in time for the wedding,” Bridget said, and Ali gave a silent high-five to the universe. “But Mom found a boutique in Seattle that had the style I wanted and everyone’s size in stock. They already shipped them out, and the dresses should arrive in Florida the Tuesday before the wedding. It’s cutting it close, but there will be just enough time for a fitting and alterations.”
“Blue works for me,” Ali said, trying to adopt her dad’s causal smile, his genuine interest. “When’s the fitting?”
“Wednesday morning, first thing,” Bridget said, and a strange nagging sensation pulsed at the base of Ali’s neck. “I figured you and Dad could fly in on Monday so you can be there for all of the preparations and festivities.”
