Nix & Scotlyn: The Wedding

  I peered up at him. “I think this is supposed to be after the wedding and over the threshold.”

  “Should I put you down?” His breath was rich with the smell of beer.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Nope, just mentioning.” We got to the bedroom door, and he whipped my feet around to push the door open.

  “I am now carrying my extremely hot fiancé, soon to be extremely hot wife, to the bed for sex.”

  I laughed. “Are you really going to narrate this because it’s kind of a mood killer.”

  “Then I’ll shut up.” He dropped me onto the bed. “But one day, I’m going to narrate the whole thing. I think it would be fucking cool. She swoons as I rip the panties off of her.” He looked down for affirmation, but I laughed in response. “It would be like reading one of Cassie’s novels aloud.”

  “All right, my more than slightly drunk husband to be, grasp that great, glistening, throbbing manhood from your breeches otherwise this hot, wet sheath is going out to watch television.”

  He unzipped his pants and then something seemed to have struck him. “Manhood? Really? Is that what word they use?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Manhood. Hmm, manhood,” he repeated in a deeper voice. “I like it. I might just have it tattooed on the side of my—”

  I wrapped my and around his neck and pulled his mouth down over mine.

  Chapter 25

  Nix

  “Oh my gosh, Nix, you have to come see this article about Finley’s rescue barn,” Cassie called from the front of the shop.

  I was readying the ink for my next tattoo. “Is that the one with the pictures you took?”

  “No, this one is different.”

  “What’s it say?” I was still yelling, but she’d already snuck in behind me. I turned around and startled. “Shit, you must have tiptoed. So what’s in it?”

  “It talks about Finley’s barn and the great work she is doing with Barrett Mason, her partner.”

  I set up a line of tiny paper cups. “That’s cool.”

  “That’s not the part I wanted you to see.” She lifted the paper to read. “Some of our readers might be wondering just what Finley King’s famous father has been up to since he took a break from concert tours. Finley assures us that Nicky King is enjoying his time off, but he’s still performing. This summer he will sing at a wedding for two of Finley’s friends, Nix Pierce, son of the late race car driver, Alexander Pierce and Scotlyn James. The wedding will take place at the King estate.”

  I grabbed the paper. “Hey, we got a wedding announcement in the paper just like important, famous people.”

  “Ooh, that reminds me. I need to check on Taylor and the dresses. After the little fiasco the other night, I’m worried she’s not going to get the dresses finished.” Cassie walked out still talking.

  My phone rang. I hadn’t talked to Clutch since he’d walked out of the bar. He wasn’t the type to pry, and he was definitely not the type to want to share either. “Hey, Clutch, what’s up?”

  “Car meet Friday at seven.” He sounded down.

  “All right. Scottie and I don’t have anything else going on. You doing all right?”

  “Fucking grand. Christ, just don’t know if this relationship thing is worth the hassle, you know?” Apparently today, he was in a rare sharing mood. “I mean, I’m constantly having to worry about saying the right thing or buying the right gift or satisfying her when—well, you know, but she just does whatever the fuck she wants. And she expects me to be all right with it.”

  “Uh, isn’t this a conversation you should be having with Taylor?”

  He sighed loudly. “Yeah, I just don’t feel like talking to her right now.”

  “You should wait then, but I’d tell her everything you just told me.”

  “It’s easier saying it to you because—”

  “Because I don’t make you horny by just breathing softly into the phone?”

  “Yeah, something like that. Plus, she doesn’t let me finish before she starts spurting tears and stomping off.”

  “That can be a problem. Those tears are dangerous damn weapons.”

  “Yep, that they are. Well, I’ll be out there at seven on Friday. See you then.”

  “Later.”

  I walked to the front of the shop. Cassie didn’t seem to be having a great phone conversation either. “I know, Taylor, except the wedding is just a few weeks away, and we can’t send the bride down the aisle in shorts and sandals.”

  “I’d still marry her,” I interrupted.

  Cassie waved for me to shut up, so I returned to my ink.

  Chapter 26

  Scotlyn

  Things had been going well with wedding plans, which, of course, meant it was high times things went awry. From what I’d read, there was no such thing as completely smooth sailing when it came to weddings, and that would be especially true for ones that were planned only a month and a half out from the engagement.

  Taylor was a mess, and it seemed that the dresses might not get done in time. I told Cassie not to stress about it, but she seemed to stress more over the fact that I wasn’t stressed about it.

  The phone rang as soon as I stepped out of the car. It was Cassie. Lately, she was skipping the greeting and getting right to the meat of the conversation. “Did Nix show you the article in the paper about Finley’s barn and your wedding announcement?”

  “Yes, it’s sitting inside, on our kitchen table. Pretty cool.”

  “I was thinking, maybe if we went over to Taylor’s and offered to help in some way.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m no help at all when it comes to sewing.” I leaned down and picked up a small cube shaped box that the mailman had left on the porch. It was addressed to Ms. Scotlyn James. The return address was from someone named Parker who lived in Burbank. I knew no one with that name or anyone who lived in Burbank, for that matter.

  “I can’t sew a button on without stabbing ten holes in my finger, but maybe we could cut fabric or something,” Cassie continued. “We just need to get her mind off Clutch and back on the dresses.”

  Nix’s car drove up just as I stepped inside the house.

  “I don’t know what to say, Cassie. We can always just buy some dresses off the rack if she doesn’t finish in time.”

  “Off the rack? That would suck. And I still haven’t found anyone to do lighting on such short notice. We might be walking around in our leftover prom dresses holding flashlights in our bouquets. The flowers are still happening, right?”

  “As far as I know. The girl was pretty new to the business but happy to do it. I guess we’ll see if she delivers.”

  Cassie grunted. “Clutch is having problems finding a tuxedo to fit him. Apparently tuxes don’t come in Viking sizes. But, on the bright side, Dray tried one on and thought he looked so damn good, he wants to have one made out of spandex. Thinks he can be the only tux wearing fighter on the circuit. Just not sure what to do about Clutch.”

  “Maybe we could shrink him,” I suggested, but Cassie just wasn’t in the mood for humor. “We planned to marry at the end of August because I start back at school in September, but now I’m wondering if we should have just eloped.”

  Cassie was silent. My thoughtless words had hurt her. She’d been working so hard on this wedding and I’d callously suggested running off to elope.

  “No, I didn’t mean that, Cass. You’re doing so much work, and I could never have done this without you.”

  She didn’t respond at first. Once again, I’d managed to yank my foot up to my mouth. Writing words instead of talking had always given me the advantage of being able to rip them up or cross them out before showing them to someone. But when words were spoken, they just rolled out, and sucking them back in was impossible.

  “Well, I’ve got to make dinner for Dray,” she said quietly.

  “Cassie, please don’t be upset. Everything will be fine.”

  She sighed. “Yeah. Bye.” r />
  Nix walked inside just as I hung up. “That is not a happy face,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  I put the phone down and picked up the package. It was light, and shaking it produced no sound. “I stupidly mentioned to Cassie that maybe we should have eloped, and it hurt her feelings. Don’t know why I said it except we didn’t have much time to plan this wedding out.”

  Nix walked over and put his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead. “The only thing I need at this wedding is you, and you can walk down that aisle in a paper bag, for all I care.”

  “Glad you’re open to that concept. It’s more likely than you’d imagine.”

  He tapped the package. “What’s that? An early wedding gift?”

  “I have no idea what it is. It’s addressed to me from someone in Burbank. I don’t know anyone out there. Do you?”

  He gave it some thought. “No one I can think of.” He lifted it and put it near his ear. “It’s not ticking, so I guess it’s safe to open.”

  I stared at the package. “Jeez, now I’m not so sure. I hadn’t even thought about something bad inside.”

  “There’s nothing bad in there. It’s light and quiet. And I’ll be here to grab it if it’s a snake.”

  I looked up at him. “Good to know.” I peeled off the packing tape and the brown wrapper. The box was taped too. Someone had gone to great care to make sure whatever was inside was safely packaged. I cleared away some of the white packing peanuts. There was an envelope on top of a small tin box. The envelope had two names on the front— Scotlyn and Olivia. Just seeing my sister’s name made my fingers tremble. Nix stood as silent as a statue behind me as I opened the envelope.

  Dear Ms. James,

  You don’t know me, but some years ago I bought a few items at an estate sale. My main purchase was a small trunk that had various pieces of custom jewelry and other trinkets. The name James was carved into the top of the trunk. Inside the trunk was a small tin box. This is what I have mailed to you. I recently read of the upcoming nuptials of a Ms. Scotlyn James and Nix Pierce. As the name Scotlyn is so unique, I have mailed this box on the hunch that you are the Scotlyn to which it belongs. Inside, you will find a note to explain more. I hope I have found the right person and best wishes for a happy marriage.

  Sincerely,

  Margaret Parker

  I stared down at the silver tin box. It had small white daisies painted on it. I had never seen it before. I had no idea what was inside, but my limbs felt heavy and my head felt light. This box had belonged to my mom. I could sense it.

  Nix placed his hand on my arm. “Maybe you should sit down.”

  It took me a second to process his suggestion. I reached inside and picked up the box. The tin was cold and smooth in my fingers as I walked over to the table and sat down. The newspaper with the article, the article that’d brought this box to my hands, sat in front of me.

  It took some effort to pop the top open. Inside was a tiny note. I recognized my mom’s handwriting, excessively curly and slightly hurried, and my throat tightened at the sight of it. The paper twitched in my shaky fingers. Nix pulled up a chair next to me, but he hadn’t said a word. I unfolded the thin, yellowed from time, paper. There was a tiny vine of flowers printed on one side. “To my beautiful daughters, Scotlyn and Olivia, if I’m handing you this box then it must be your wedding day. I fashioned these two garters from the lace and beads on my wedding dress. I’m sure the dress itself will be too out of style by the time you girls get married, but I wanted you to have a part of it to wear on your special day. Your dad says I’m a sentimental nerd, but what does he know? Anyhow, my loves, I hope you like them.”

  Tears flowed down my cheeks as I reached in and lifted out one of the garters. Ivory lace was neatly sewn onto a pink garter band and a row of iridescent beads ran along each border. The one I held had the letter S embroidered on the center with white thread. The second one was exactly the same but with the letter O embroidered on the center.

  Nix took the garter carefully from my trembling hands. He scooted the chair back and got down on his knee. Gently, he slipped off my sandal. I stared down at him through tear-blurred eyes as he slid the garter up my leg.

  I fingered the lace. “I can’t believe this. I wonder when she made these.” I lifted Olivia’s out of the tin and pressed it to my cheek, hoping to catch a small whiff of my mom’s wonderful scent on the lace. But too many years had passed.

  “I’ll wear this one too. Then I’ll have a little of both of them there with me.” I couldn’t stop the tears.

  Nix took my hand and we walked into the family room. He sat on the couch and I crawled into his lap. I couldn’t take my eyes off the garter. I could see my mom’s slim, long fingers pulling the thread through the lace. She’d probably been smiling and listening to rock and roll while she made it. She was always smiling. And she was always listening to rock and roll. And she was always thinking of Olivia and me. It was hard to believe that her gift had found its way back to me. “I will have to write Mrs. Parker a letter, to let her know just how much this means to me. She must be a wonderful person. She deserves a big thank you.”

  I rested my head against Nix’s chest and he tightened his arms around me.

  Chapter 27

  Nix

  Taylor came out of the house dressed in extremely short shorts and with her blouse tied up right beneath her breasts. It was the same way she’d dressed when she was a flirty seventeen-year-old trying her hardest to drive Clutch crazy. Which she had. But my stoic friend had behaved himself. Even though Taylor’s parents had gone out of their way to separate her from Clutch, who they had ignorantly deemed not good enough for her, once she’d turned eighteen, Clutch gave up the fight. He was nuts about her, and they’d been together ever since. Until now.

  I looked over at Scotlyn. “If Clutch asks, remember this was your idea.”

  “Coward,” she muttered as Taylor opened the back door and slid inside.

  “Hey, it’s the newlyweds. Oh wait, I guess that would be the almost newlyweds.” Taylor had a tendency to talk a lot and fast when she was nervous.

  Scotlyn turned around. “You look adorable. I love that blouse.”

  “Thanks. I sewed it earlier this summer. And don’t worry, Scottie, I started working on the dresses again. I figure I’m destined to be alone, and I need to be able to make my own living.”

  “That’s silly. You won’t be alone,” Scotlyn said. “But you still need to make your own living. Independence is good for everyone, alone or not. And I’m not worried about the dresses.”

  “Phew, that’s good to hear. Cassie seems a little tense every time she calls. I told her I just wasn’t feeling it, you know? But my creativity surged back this morning. I mean to hell with Clutch.” She paused. “He’s not bringing anyone to this meet, is he, Nix?”

  I peered up at her in the mirror. She bit her lip in worry, waiting for my response.

  “I haven’t talked to him for a few days, but I think he’s just going to find a buyer for his Nova.”

  She relaxed back with a small grin. “Not that I care, but I was just wondering.”

  “Right,” I said.

  She took off her seatbelt and leaned forward. “I almost forgot— Cassie told me about the garter your mom made. We were both bawling like babies when she told me.” She reached over and put her hand on Scotlyn’s shoulder. “That is about the coolest thing in the world.”

  “I agree.” Scotlyn squeezed her hand. Taylor never had a sister, and Scotlyn had lost hers. They’d formed an instant bond. Taylor looked up to Scotlyn like an older sister.

  The extreme heat of summer tended to make the car meets extra crowded. As the sun dropped down, people migrated out from the air conditioning into the cool night air. Tonight, it seemed even nightfall wouldn’t bring relief from the heat.

  We climbed out of the car. Music from various speakers shot toward each other clashing in the middle. “Oh look, the crepe truck.” Scotlyn point
ed to a lime green food truck. “I’ve been dying to try one.”

  I raised a brow at her. “Really? Aren’t they just undersized pancakes?”

  “No, they are not.” She held out her palm. “I didn’t bring my purse. Taylor, are you up for some strawberry crepes?”

  Taylor nodded but wasn’t actually listening to the question. She stretched up as far as she could on her toes, no doubt searching for the big blond head.

  “Taylor?” Scotlyn said again.

  She dropped back down to flat feet. “Crepes sound great.”

  “You guys eat your flat-ironed pancakes. I’m going for a burger.” I waited for them to disappear around the corner of the crepe truck, then I headed to the spot where Clutch usually parked. His Nova was sitting under a light, and Clutch’s chair was next to it, empty. The guy at the next car, who I always saw at all the meets, but whose name I never knew, motioned across the lot. “Clutch just took a test drive in someone’s Pontiac. He’ll be right back, I’m sure.”

  “Thanks.” I headed back toward the food trucks before the girls noticed me missing. I’d hoped to catch Clutch first to warn him that Taylor had come along with us. That was obviously not going to happen. I considered texting him but then decided to just let the evening take its natural course.

  A familiar laugh caught my attention, and I peered over some heads. Stormy was standing with a group of friends. She saw me and cast me an extremely icy and completely expected glare. I continued on to the burger truck.

  The crepe truck was not the most popular food supplier at a vintage car meet, and Scotlyn and Taylor were already sitting and eating before I’d even reached the order window. I was trying to assess which way the night was going to go. The break-up had already stretched longer than I’d expected, but it just didn’t seem possible that Clutch was going to give Taylor up.

  I walked to the table with my burger. Scotlyn was licking her fingertip and picking up the stray powdered sugar from her paper plate. “You missed out, sweetie. The crepes were delicious.”