Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2)(21)
We’re a few feet ahead of her when San leans down to whisper in my ear.
“What was that all about?”
“Nothing. She doesn’t like me, at least not for Rhyson. It was all she could do not to jump up and down that we aren’t together anymore.”
“She must not have seen you together when we first got here.” San lets out a low whistle. “You could have boiled an egg between the two of you.”
“He wants me to meet him.”
“I just bet he does,” San says with a chuckle. “Two months is a long time. Wedding f*cks are the best.”
“Not for . . . not for that, San.”
“I’d bet my next check it is for that.”
I ignore all the tingly places his suggestion ignites, and don’t bother responding since we’ve reached our seats. Instead, I settle into the white folding chair and absorb the beauty of this day. Not the green carpet of grass under our feet, vibrant, verdant. Or the canopy of cloud and cerulean sky overhead, with the sun glowing bright and gold. Not the trees, Spring heavy on their branches, blossoms scenting the air. No, the beauty of a man who has always sought good for others, finally finding so much good for himself.
Grady didn’t have to take me under his wing when I moved here, a country bumpkin fresh off the truck, green as a watermelon. But he did. He looked out for me, for San, and so many of his other students. He looked out for Rhyson, when his parents should have but didn’t, and for that I’m more appreciative than a beautifully wrapped gift from Williams-Sonoma could ever express.
I cry a little when Grady takes his place at the front under an arch of crimson roses. So much of the good I see in Rhyson is because of Grady. Seeing Rhsyon standing beside the man who’s been more of a father to him than his natural father only stirs the emotion more. I reach into my little clutch where I stuffed Kleenex. I thought that was all the preparation I’d need, but wiping away the tears doesn’t wipe away the emotion that goes even beyond Grady.
I want this.
It hits me out of nowhere, as incongruous as rain would be on this bright, sunny day, but that doesn’t make it less true. Even with all we still have to work out, even with the tape threatening me, even when right now I’m not even sure I trust him, I know I love him. And I want this. A gorgeous day with Rhyson standing there waiting for me at the end of a path of roses like the one Emmy’s walking down now, with a crowd of family and friends standing when I enter. I want an impractical white dress that I’ll only wear once and that costs entirely too much. Something I can save for our girls just in case one of them wants to wear it one day. With all the crap we still have to sort, that feels like an improbable light at the end of an impossible tunnel, but I want this more than I ever wanted to perform. The idea that one lonely, careless night with an * who hates the man I love could ruin those possibilities for me, for us, chokes me. Lodges emotion in my throat too thick to swallow past.
“You okay?” San whispers.
“Yeah.” I give a jerky nod, sniffling and patting at the corners of my eyes as the minister tells us we can take our seats again. “You know how I am at weddings.”
San studies my profile, but I refuse to look at him. The man sees enough without looking into my eyes. And then Rhyson’s voice makes me forget San is even there.
“Thank you for celebrating this great day with Grady and Em,” Rhyson says from behind a piano on a slightly raised dais. “This is a day I’ve been really looking forward to. Probably not as much as Grady has, though.”
The crowd laughs, and Rhyson smiles into the mic.
“For as long as I can remember, Grady and I have shared the songs we’re working on. When he heard this song for my next album, he asked me to sing it today. And even though I wrote it for my girl, today it’s from Grady to his. It’s called My Soul To Keep.”
I keep a straight face, even though several sets of eyes swing in my direction, watching for a response. Wondering if I’m still “his girl.” Wondering if he wrote this song for me. My expression remains impassive, but heat and pleasure combust in my chest, setting fire to every part of me waiting to hear my song.
Rhyson looks up from the piano, and a moment of déjà vu transports me back to the first time we met in Grady’s studio, when I saw only a sliver of him at the piano, just enough to fascinate me. Only this time he’s searching for me. I know it. He scans the crowd, looking methodically up and down rows until he finds me. Eyes locked with mine, he tugs his ear before launching into the first words.
I was lost before you found me, or maybe I found you
Maybe it was fate or kismet, or something much more true
It could have been an answered prayer, a sacred certainty
All I know is what we have now. I’ve got no plans to leave
Not an ocean, not forever
Nothing wide or deep
Will ever end this love between us
My soul is yours to keep
To have the full power of Rhyson’s gift fixed on me, his talent with words, the nimble fingers loving the keys, the force of his charisma turned on me, is overwhelming. I sit up straight, but inside I’m slumped over from the force of these intimate moments between him and me with a crowd looking on.
From there, things blur. Grady and Em tearfully pledge themselves to each other. By the end of their vows, my Kleenex is a limp, damp useless blob in my fist. I have vague impressions of food in my mouth. I’m sure it’s delicious, but I barely taste it. I don’t look at Rhyson, and I don’t think he looks at me much either. He’s giving Grady and the reception his full attention, and I love him for that.