Page 62 of That Reilly Boy
It’s one thing to take the house away from Gin. As far as I’m concerned, she deserves to lose it. But it’ll be harder to sleep at night knowing Cara actually loves the house, and it’s only the financial aspect she wants to get away from.
“What would you do if the house and money weren’t an issue?” I ask, wanting to remind myself I’ll actually be doing her a favor by taking the house off her hands.
She sighs, her face softening as her lips curve into a dreamy smile. “I’d want enough land to move Pampered Pets to a standalone business rather than it being in a Main Street storefront. And I’d fence the outdoor spaces and also foster shelter animals to help get them ready for their forever homes.”
When we were young, sitting in this same spot, she loved to talk about how—when she was an adult and moved out—she was going to adopt a bunch of cats and dogs. She’d always loved animals, but could never have a pet.
“I’m going to make sure you get to do that,” I tell her, and even though she shakes her head, a wistful smile curves her mouth.
“Did Aaron tell you we ran into each other at the market today?”
“He called me on his way home. Said after years of pretending you and Gin were invisible, he didn’t know what to do.”
“Same,” she says. “Your niece and nephew are adorable, by the way. Listening to AJ’s excitement about kindergarten was worth the stress of that dinner.”
My brother’s kids give us something neutral to talk about while we eat our ice cream, and it’s easy for me. I love talking about them, and Cara seems to get a kick out of my favorite stories.
But too soon, the ice cream is gone and I know she’s going to tell me it’s time to go any minute. As much as I hate to bring up the subject when we’re both so relaxed, the clock is ticking.
“Have you written your vows yet?” When she freezes in the act of stowing the debris from our ice cream binge in the bag, except for a widening of her eyes, I sigh. “You didn’t read the entire email, did you?”
“I thought I did. In my defense, you send a lot of emails, and you pack a lot of information into them. I think I’d remember that, though.” She sends a fierce scowl in my direction. “What’s wrong with the standard vows?”
“Don’t you think it’s more romantic to write our own?”
Cara’s quiet for a long time, staring at the rushing water while absentmindedly stroking Penny’s back. “I don’t think I can do that, Hayden.”
“I could write something for you. Stuff about my chiseled jaw and?—”
“No.” She turns to look me in the eye. “It’s going to be hard enough to stand up in front of everybody and make vows we don’t mean. But at least if they’re the standard, generic ones it’ll… I don’t know. It’ll feel like a movie or something. Less personal, and maybe less fraudulent feeling. It’s hard to explain.”
“I get it.” And I do. I’ve been so focused on convincing our friends and family we’re madly in love, I haven’t considered how it was going to feel to have Cara look me in the eye and recite wedding vows. I think she’s right that stock vows will be slightly less painful.
She stands, signaling an end to our interlude in the woods. Penny looks expectantly at me, and I can see that she’s done here, too. Both of them are obviously waiting for me to stand up, so I push myself to my feet.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m heading to Boston. I have to grab a few things, and also get Penny settled with her sitter. We probably won’t see each other again until the ceremony.”
Cara blinks a few times, and then laughs. It isn’t her usual laugh, but one that sounds panicky and disbelieving. “We’re really doing this?”
“We’re really doing this.” I don’t want her to start spiraling into second thoughts, so a subject change is in order. “Should we practice the ‘you may kiss the bride’ part before we go?”
If the way her gaze drops to my mouth and stays there is any indication, she’s considering it and my body tightens with anticipation. I’m doomed to disappointment, though, because she slowly shakes her head.
“I’m not kissing you on this rock, Hayden, because the last time I did, it was real. At least for me, anyway. And even though it’s painful, I want to keep those memories separate.”
“It was real,” I say in a low voice. But I don’t want to wander down that particular Memory Lane any further, either, because it ends with me telling her what really happened that night. Or it ends with her angry with me all over again because I won’t have a good reason. Either way, I don’t want that.
“I walked, so I guess we’re leaving in separate directions,” she says, obviously not wanting to look any further into the past than I do.
I pick up my dog, intending to carry her until we’re back on the path. “So I’ll see you Saturday, then.”
Cara manages a smile, maybe because I’m holding Penny, which puts her at the perfect height for more scratches under her chin. “I’ll be the one everybody’s staring at.”
There’s nothing I can say to lessen her anxiety about that, so I just smile as she gives Penny a final head rub before walking away. I watch her for a few seconds, and then force myself to head back toward my car. The next time I see Cara, we’ll leave together as a married couple.
And the next time I kiss her, she’ll be my wife.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
