If It's Only Love (Lexi Ryan) novel Chapter 20

Shay

Molly is the last person I expected to insist on a small wedding. I knew Brayden would be on board for anything she wanted, and I expected something elaborate.

Molly runs the new Jackson Brews Banquet Center and specializes in over-the-top, beautiful weddings. She’s so good at them, in fact, that I always assumed she’d have one of her own. But when Brayden proposed last fall and they started talking wedding plans, Molly made one thing very clear: she didn’t want all the fuss. All that mattered to her was having her mom and all of the Jacksons there. She wanted Noah to walk her down the aisle and my siblings standing beside them as they said their vows.

Upon hearing this, my mom burst into tears. It’s a good thing we aren’t a competitive bunch, because in that moment, Molly may have become Mom’s favorite.

Molly and Brayden decided to have the big day at our family’s cabin about thirty minutes outside of Jackson Harbor. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. They were planning it for the spring on the tiny beach in front of the lake, and I was thinking of Molly in a white dress, of Brayden with that dumbstruck, loving look he’s had on his face since Molly moved back from New York. I was not thinking of Easton Connor being back in town. I wasn’t thinking of the house where we played Never Have I Ever and he snuck into my room after midnight to sleep next to me. I wasn’t thinking of New Year’s Eve.

Now I’m thinking of those things. Since he’s practically family, everyone assumes he’s coming. As twisted up as the idea makes me, I’d be disappointed in him if he didn’t.

“I like that one, Shayleigh,” Mom says.

We’re trying on bridesmaid dresses. Molly decided she didn’t want us all to match. She wants us to wear different spring colors in knee-length dresses of any style. I’ve realized since the minimal plans have been in motion that if I told Molly I wanted to show up in PJs, she probably wouldn’t bat an eye. All that matters to her is Brayden.

I look down at the dress my mom likes so much. It’s a warm peach strapless dress with a high waist and a poufy skirt that makes me think of 1950s swing dresses. It shows off my legs, toned from running and twice-weekly weights. I love my legs and I feel pretty in this, which is a plus. I have much more confidence than I did when I was a teenage girl in love with Easton, but feeling pretty still doesn’t come easily.

I look to Molly. “Do you like it?”

“You look amazing,” she says with a big smile.

“When are we finally going to meet the boy you’ve been seeing?” Mom says.

I force a smile. Boy is not the best word to describe George Alby. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Mom.” And I don’t want to analyze why this is a relief to me—why the idea of introducing George to my family makes me a little queasy. And that feeling isn’t a product of the breakup. It’s always been there.

But why didn’t I want my family to meet him? Was I worried they’d judge me for sleeping with the chair of my dissertation committee? Hell, I’m judging me. Or is it because I knew they’d recognize what I already knew on a gut level? George and I aren’t a good fit.

“Why the secrecy?” Ava asks, coming out of a stall. She’s wearing a blush rose one-shoulder gown.

“I love that on you, Av,” I say, and my sister-in-law beams.

“It covers my mommy pooch,” she says, patting her stomach.

I snort. “You don’t have a mommy pooch.”

“I do, and I like it, so hush!”

“Don’t change the subject,” Molly says. “Why the secrecy with the guy?”

“It’s not actually . . . a thing,” I say. I look down, studying the hemline of my dress. Again, I’m struck by how little I feel about ending this thing with George. It should be a blow. But maybe I’m just made wrong, because it’s not. It wasn’t even much of a blow when Steve broke up with me, and that was the longest relationship I’ve had. No, it seems Easton is the only man capable of leaving me in pieces when he walks away. “I don’t think we’re going to see each other anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mom says.

Teagan is watching me. She’s been uncharacteristically silent on the topic of George and Easton. I have a feeling I know why. She’s met George a few times, and I don’t think she likes him. “Did he . . . want more commitment or something?” she asks.

Right, because last time I talked to Teagan about George, I thought he was going to propose. Because I’m an idiot. “No. Neither of us were ready for that.” I’ll explain the rest to her later when we don’t have an audience. “It’s not a big deal. We were never serious.” I sigh. “Honestly, it was never a good idea to sleep with someone I work with.” Mom’s eyes go wide, and I realize what I’ve said. “Sorry, Mom. Your baby girl isn’t a virgin anymore.”

She laughs. “I didn’t figure you were, Shayleigh.”

“To bigger and better things,” Teagan says with a nod. Then under her breath, so only I can hear, she says, “Emphasis on bigger.”

Swallowing a laugh, I elbow my friend then change the subject in case Mom can see all my secrets in the blush of my cheeks. “And anyway, it’s not a good idea to get attached to anyone here when I’m about to uproot my whole life.”

Mom frowns. “How’s the job hunt going?”

“Better than expected.” Maybe that’s the problem. Did part of me believe I wouldn’t be able to find a job? That I wouldn’t have to worry about moving away from my family because I didn’t think anyone would want me? “I have an interview in Oklahoma on Monday and then one at Emmitson in L.A. next month.”

“Oklahoma? L.A.? Those are both so far.” Mom looks like I just told her I’m planning to marry Satan. “You wouldn’t move there, would you?”

“Mom . . .”

Mom pales. “A couple of times?”

“I love that idea,” Mom says, clasping her hands together. And it’s official. Now Molly is definitely her favorite. She spins to me. “You could work for Molly until you find something closer, Shayleigh.”

The idea pulls me in two directions. On one hand, I don’t want to leave home. On the other hand, finishing my PhD and abandoning it feels like a degree of failure. “Maybe I’ll put my application in,” I tell Molly. “I’m just not sure yet.”

Easton: I’m coming back from Chicago early. We need to talk. And before you say no, it’s not about you and me. It’s about something else.

“Everything’s fine.” I force a smile and shove my phone back into my purse without replying. I really want to stop talking about myself. “Is everyone happy with their dresses?”