Hope Burns
Page 9
The bridesmaids started down, with Barry informing them about how to walk.
“Not too fast, ladies. This isn’t a race. But don’t take all day, either.”
Carter was fascinated with Molly’s walk, especially since she did everything in her power to avoid making eye contact with him as she made her way down the aisle and over to where the rest of the bridesmaids were standing.
Jane’s six-year-old daughter Tabitha was going to be the flower girl. She had such a serious face as she practiced walking down the aisle with a plastic basket. Tomorrow, it would be filled with flowers.
Cute.
Then Emma’s dad walked her down the aisle. Luke cleared his throat.
“It’s just the rehearsal, Luke. You don’t get to choke up until tomorrow,” Logan said.
“Yeah, yeah.”
They went through the motions, with Barry explaining what would happen at every step. It went pretty fast, which was good, because, like Bash, Carter was hungry. So when Barry told them they were good to go, everyone headed out to the restaurant.
Bash rode with him.
“Taking Rhonda tonight, huh?” he asked on the way.
“Yeah. She’s my date.” Nothing like taking your ’67 Mustang Shelby as your date for the night. She was also going to be his date tomorrow. Less complicated that way. He typically didn’t bring a date to a wedding, and he especially didn’t need or want one at this event. He had enough issues to deal with.
They were going to have dinner in Tulsa at the Polo Grill on Utica Square. Emma’s parents had provided the rehearsal dinner, and Georgia Burnett had fine dining down to an art form. She’d booked a private room, so they all gathered in there, where cocktails were provided.
Carter headed for the bar to order a whiskey, straight up, determined to ignore Molly the rest of the night.
Except she was dragged to the bar by Jane and Chelsea and Emma before he had a chance to get out of the way and go hide among his friends.
“Carter. You brought Rhonda with you tonight,” Chelsea said.
“Yup.”
Molly cocked a brow, then looked around. “Who’s Rhonda?”
“His car.”
She smirked. “You named your car?”
He shot her a look. “You named your car.”
“That’s different,” she said with a shrug.
“In what way?”
“Never mind.”
He took another drink, figuring the less said, the better, since their first meeting didn’t go all that well.
“Oh, you have to see Rhonda,” Jane said to Molly. “You’ll understand then. Let’s go outside and you can show her, Carter.”
Such a bad idea. But Emma already had Molly by the hand, pulling her toward the door, so he downed the contents of his whiskey in one swallow, then followed the women outside.
There was no doubt about it, Rhonda was impressive. He always kept her gleaming, and her navy body paint with white stripes stood out in the crowded parking lot. She got a lot of looks from passersby as well.
“Oh. So that’s Rhonda,” Molly said.
“Yup.”
“I can see why you’d name her. She’s a beauty.” Molly turned to face him. “It was always your dream to own a ’67 Shelby.”
He was surprised she remembered. “Yeah, it was.”
“You must be doing very well.”
“I’m doing okay.”
“He’s doing better than okay. He owns four auto repair shops now,” Emma said with a wide smile. “Worked his butt off over the years. At least that’s what Luke tells me.”
“Worth the hard work for something like Rhonda. She’d go very well with my hair,” Chelsea said with a wink.
“I’ll take you for a ride in her sometime.”
“It’d be more fun if I got to drive her.”
Carter shook his head. “No one drives Rhonda but me.”
Chelsea sighed. “You’re no fun, Carter.”
He slanted his gaze toward Molly, who looked as miserable as he felt.
“We’d better go back inside before people start missing us,” Emma said.
Carter held open the door as the women walked inside. He caught a whiff of Molly’s scent—something vanilla—as she walked by. He got in line behind her as they made their way back to the private dining room, trying not to notice the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her back, or the sultry sway of her hips that was more natural than affected, because she was definitely tense walking in front of him.
When they got back to the room, she went one way, and he went the other.
Wasn’t this going to be fun?
He did a lot more drinking than eating during dinner, and it was a good thing he didn’t have to give any toasts because he was starting to feel the effects of the whiskey. Emma’s parents toasted, wishing the couple well, and Martha and her husband, Ben, did as well. He barely tasted the food, which was a shame, because the steak looked really good.
All he could think about was Molly, who kept her focus on her sister. She smiled at the appropriate times, and laughed when someone told a joke. But her laugh didn’t meet her eyes, and she no doubt wanted this to be over as much as he did.
He was just going to sit here and wait for everyone to leave and have another drink.
“You okay?” Luke asked as the party broke up and everyone started to leave.
Carter looked up, smiled, and nodded. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Not too fast, ladies. This isn’t a race. But don’t take all day, either.”
Carter was fascinated with Molly’s walk, especially since she did everything in her power to avoid making eye contact with him as she made her way down the aisle and over to where the rest of the bridesmaids were standing.
Jane’s six-year-old daughter Tabitha was going to be the flower girl. She had such a serious face as she practiced walking down the aisle with a plastic basket. Tomorrow, it would be filled with flowers.
Cute.
Then Emma’s dad walked her down the aisle. Luke cleared his throat.
“It’s just the rehearsal, Luke. You don’t get to choke up until tomorrow,” Logan said.
“Yeah, yeah.”
They went through the motions, with Barry explaining what would happen at every step. It went pretty fast, which was good, because, like Bash, Carter was hungry. So when Barry told them they were good to go, everyone headed out to the restaurant.
Bash rode with him.
“Taking Rhonda tonight, huh?” he asked on the way.
“Yeah. She’s my date.” Nothing like taking your ’67 Mustang Shelby as your date for the night. She was also going to be his date tomorrow. Less complicated that way. He typically didn’t bring a date to a wedding, and he especially didn’t need or want one at this event. He had enough issues to deal with.
They were going to have dinner in Tulsa at the Polo Grill on Utica Square. Emma’s parents had provided the rehearsal dinner, and Georgia Burnett had fine dining down to an art form. She’d booked a private room, so they all gathered in there, where cocktails were provided.
Carter headed for the bar to order a whiskey, straight up, determined to ignore Molly the rest of the night.
Except she was dragged to the bar by Jane and Chelsea and Emma before he had a chance to get out of the way and go hide among his friends.
“Carter. You brought Rhonda with you tonight,” Chelsea said.
“Yup.”
Molly cocked a brow, then looked around. “Who’s Rhonda?”
“His car.”
She smirked. “You named your car?”
He shot her a look. “You named your car.”
“That’s different,” she said with a shrug.
“In what way?”
“Never mind.”
He took another drink, figuring the less said, the better, since their first meeting didn’t go all that well.
“Oh, you have to see Rhonda,” Jane said to Molly. “You’ll understand then. Let’s go outside and you can show her, Carter.”
Such a bad idea. But Emma already had Molly by the hand, pulling her toward the door, so he downed the contents of his whiskey in one swallow, then followed the women outside.
There was no doubt about it, Rhonda was impressive. He always kept her gleaming, and her navy body paint with white stripes stood out in the crowded parking lot. She got a lot of looks from passersby as well.
“Oh. So that’s Rhonda,” Molly said.
“Yup.”
“I can see why you’d name her. She’s a beauty.” Molly turned to face him. “It was always your dream to own a ’67 Shelby.”
He was surprised she remembered. “Yeah, it was.”
“You must be doing very well.”
“I’m doing okay.”
“He’s doing better than okay. He owns four auto repair shops now,” Emma said with a wide smile. “Worked his butt off over the years. At least that’s what Luke tells me.”
“Worth the hard work for something like Rhonda. She’d go very well with my hair,” Chelsea said with a wink.
“I’ll take you for a ride in her sometime.”
“It’d be more fun if I got to drive her.”
Carter shook his head. “No one drives Rhonda but me.”
Chelsea sighed. “You’re no fun, Carter.”
He slanted his gaze toward Molly, who looked as miserable as he felt.
“We’d better go back inside before people start missing us,” Emma said.
Carter held open the door as the women walked inside. He caught a whiff of Molly’s scent—something vanilla—as she walked by. He got in line behind her as they made their way back to the private dining room, trying not to notice the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her back, or the sultry sway of her hips that was more natural than affected, because she was definitely tense walking in front of him.
When they got back to the room, she went one way, and he went the other.
Wasn’t this going to be fun?
He did a lot more drinking than eating during dinner, and it was a good thing he didn’t have to give any toasts because he was starting to feel the effects of the whiskey. Emma’s parents toasted, wishing the couple well, and Martha and her husband, Ben, did as well. He barely tasted the food, which was a shame, because the steak looked really good.
All he could think about was Molly, who kept her focus on her sister. She smiled at the appropriate times, and laughed when someone told a joke. But her laugh didn’t meet her eyes, and she no doubt wanted this to be over as much as he did.
He was just going to sit here and wait for everyone to leave and have another drink.
“You okay?” Luke asked as the party broke up and everyone started to leave.
Carter looked up, smiled, and nodded. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
