The Fastest Way to Fall(55)

“So, he’s just a friend? Nothing going on there?” RJ’s tone was casual, but she was fishing.

“Just a friend,” I said, holding up a green wrap dress for her review and hoping she had no more follow-up questions. I had the what-ifs in my head, and that was enough. “What do you think of this?”

“Not bad,” she said after a quick perusal of the garment. “Also, were you going to tell me that Del gets to go with you to Casa de Colby? I’m jealous. Your family is the best.”

RJ had been home with me a ton of times in college and beyond. I knew she’d considered going to visit my parents without me getting in the way, so she could keep all my mom’s cooking to herself.

“I invited you—you’ll still be in North Carolina.”

“Stupid job interview,” she muttered. “Will you bring me home some of Danielle’s brownies?”

I laughed and returned to the rack. “I guarantee my mom will have a container of them waiting for you.”

“So, is Del pretending to be your boyfriend or something?”

“No,” I said, inspecting a red dress with a flouncy skirt. “Nothing like that. Just a buffer to stop my family from going on full tactical find-Britta-love mode.”

RJ laughed. “I won’t be there to drag them into a college football argument.”

“Exactly. Having someone there with me means it’s easier to sidestep things, plus there’s someone who can change the subject when my love life comes up.”

“You know Del is likely to do that by jumping into a lecture about women of color in agriculture and the nexus of sustainable farming and anti-racism, right?”

“Why do you think he’s the perfect choice?” Our eyes met, and we both cracked up, drawing the attention of the other patrons.

I dragged my gaze back to the red dress and slid a finger along the fabric. It would cling a bit, and the color was bold and bright, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Not for the wedding, but maybe I’d have a few dates in the future. Real dates where I’d want to look sexy and eye-catching and it wouldn’t be an ethical quagmire to let my date take it off me. I held it up and turned to RJ, who did the same but with a black dress.

My breath caught. It was stunning, with a dipping neckline and a smattering of black beads along the hem. “Oh, I love that,” I said at the same time as her. I imagined the lights catching on the beads, tempting Wes to look at me. Sometimes on chat he said things that sounded flirty, and now and then when we hung out, he’d touch me or smile at me in a way that made me think what if, but normally, he was completely professional. “They’re both so sexy. Too sexy for a wedding with a friend?” I slid a fingertip along the line of beads at the neckline. “I mean, it’s not like I need to impress him.”

“Who cares about him? You’ll be sexy for you in either of these,” RJ said, motioning to the dressing room. “And if this friend is interested in women, I suspect he’ll be impressed.”





36





I TOSSED MY keys and phone on the counter and filled a glass with water. Saturday morning basketball was unexpectedly busy, since Aaron had had to bring his kids and I’d spent the morning teaching nine-year-old Emily to dribble circles around her dad and to score on Jake. I smiled to myself. I hadn’t enjoyed the game as much as I had this morning in a long time. My phone buzzed on the counter.


Britta: Want to see a movie later?

Wes: Aren’t you going home this weekend?

Britta: Something came up with Del’s research, and I don’t have a car. Looks like I’m staying in town.



She’d talked about it all week and told me all about her nieces and nephews and how much she couldn’t wait to see her family. She hadn’t told me much about Del other than that she’d known him a long time. I hadn’t been able to suss out whether he was the guy she kind of worked with who she liked, or if he was something else. Without any other information, I didn’t like the guy.


Wes: That’s too bad. Are you ok?

Britta: Sure. Bummer, but I’ll see them all in a couple months. Movie, though?



I glanced at my keys and the clock on the microwave before tapping out a message.


Wes: I don’t have anything going on today. I can drive you.





* * *





“ARE YOU SURE you won’t let me pay for gas? I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” Britta faced me and offered for the fifth time. The farmland and open sky stretched for miles, a blur of green and blue as we cruised down I-80. “I owe you big-time. Seriously, Wes. Anything you need and I’m yours.”

I waved her off, because “I’m yours” meant a whole lot, and I hadn’t put my plan to tell her how I felt into action. That was back on hold until I knew what was up with her and the guy she worked with. My plan was to tell her when she got back from visiting her family. Mom was doing better and almost finished with her house arrest, and I was enjoying work instead of looking for distractions. I glanced at Britta, and that feeling I was getting used to, that it’s-going-to-be-fine feeling, washed over me. “I don’t mind. I like driving, and I don’t get to do it that often. You sure your family can give you a ride back?” My hand itched to reach across the center console for Britta’s. Since I’d decided to do something, to ask her to the wedding, I’d been impatient to spend more time with her. “Will it be okay without your buffer?”