Page 48 of Eight Years Gone

Stepping back, she narrowed her eyes, checking for balance, making certain she was achieving the romantic effect the bride was looking for.

Deciding the left side was slightly sparser than the right, she grabbed some of the seeded eucalyptus from the bucket, snipped off the end, then stuck it in its place before she reached for a leafy bunch of Ruscus.

Shoving the piece in place, she glanced toward Aunt Maggie, struggling not to worry as she watched her work on another boutonniere with clumsy fingers.

Another spell. The decline was happening so fast—and this wedding wasn’t helping.

Selecting a piece of ivy next, her gaze wandered to Jagger as he opened one of the last packages of roses. Guilt swamped her for her poor behavior—for putting him on the spot in a major way. But he’d rolled with it, helping her out of another jam.

Her guilty conscience only compounded because she hadn’t been entirely friendly when she walked in with his cup of coffee. But her cool composure seemed to be her last defense.

How was she supposed to ignore him when he was everywhere? How was she supposed to resist him when she knew exactly what those hands and his mouth could do to her? Because despite her denial while she stood trapped with him in the refrigerator, she remembered all too well their stolen kisses and the way they used to drive each other crazy.

And now they were having dinner.

The other day she’d told Christy that sitting down for a cup of coffee was too complicated. This was an entire meal. And that was after spending the majority of the afternoon together.

She sighed as she stepped back to recheck the balance of greenery, satisfied that the chandelier was lush and even.

Grabbing a bucket of the white roses, she brought them over to her workspace, pausing as she moved to pick up her shears when her phone alerted her to a text.

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she swallowed as she read Ben’s message.

What are you up to this weekend?

She hadn’t seen him since the bonfire, and they hadn’t talked in a couple of days while he’d been away at a conference. Mostly, she didn’t know what to do—how to navigate such turbulent waters.

It’s the big wedding weekend.

He replied immediately. That’s right.

She snagged her lip with her teeth, trying to figure out how to tell him about the rest. Everything had happened so fast—Aunt Maggie’s awful gait and her knee-jerk reaction to seek out Jagger’s help. Then the whole dinner thing had come up.

Jagger’s going to give me a hand with the setup.

Ben replied again. You two seem to be in the same places a lot.

Didn’t she know it. He does a lot to help my family. Aunt Maggie’s having a flare-up. There’s talk of pizza at Rafferty’s afterward. To celebrate a job well done.

It took Ben a moment to text her back. Sometimes I get the impression that it’s more than that. Should we be taking a step back?

She sighed. Why was all of this so messy? Ben was one of her good friends. They had fun together. He was the only man she’d been even remotely interested in dating since Jagger walked away. But she couldn’t lead him on when she was so unsure. To be honest, I’m confused. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of my closest friends. You’re so important to me.

She held her breath, waiting for his next reply, her stomach growing sicker as the seconds ticked by.

Finally, he responded. You need to do what’s right for you. Good luck with the wedding.

She closed her eyes, knowing she was on the verge of losing one of the most important people in her life. Blinking back tears, she typed again. I’m so sorry, Ben.

She waited another minute, hoping he would type something back, but he didn’t. Putting her phone away, she stared at the floor.

Jagger stopped in front of her, carrying two buckets of the flowers she would need. “Is everything okay?”

She looked at him, never feeling more torn. Everything was falling apart. Her life had been a mess since she saw him running in Central Park.

So why was she as happy as she was angry that he’d come back? Why was she incapable of doing anything about it when this was exactly what she’d wanted—when he stood right here?

“Everything’s fine. I need to get the peonies,” she said, walking away, needing a break from the complications of her current reality.