“Because you’re squeezing my hand so tight it hurts and you look like you’re going to puke.”
Well, that would make their wedding night memorable.
He forced himself to relax his hold on her hand, take a deep breath, and smile. Performance anxiety? Really? Him? He knew that would sound horrible out loud, but seriously? He loved women. Especially naked women. And he was definitely not a monk. He wasn’t Zeke. Or even Zander, for that matter. But he knew what he was doing in the bedroom. And this was Jordan.
“Good, then let’s go in. I’m starving and I can’t wait to see everyone!” Jordan started toward the door, tugging him along with her.
Exactly. This is Jordan.
Fletcher scrubbed his free hand over his face. Fuck. This was Jordan. Everything mattered more with Jordan.
The moment they stepped across the threshold, the room went wild.
Yes, it was a bar, but Ellie’s was really just one big rectangular building with one big rectangular room filled with mismatched tables and chairs and a long, scarred wooden bar that ran the length of the east wall. The kitchen was through the swinging doors behind the bar, the restrooms were at the back, and…that was pretty much it.
The décor was “whatever Ellie and Cora wanted to put up”. There were posters, sports team banners, and photographs. So, so many photographs. From Christmases to football championships to fishing expeditions to just sitting-around-a-crawfish-boil, events from all of their lives were depicted on those walls.
But he immediately noticed that the fucking signed poster of Jason Young that had hung behind the bar in a place of honor for the past four months was gone.
Fletcher didn’t know if it had just been rolled up and stored somewhere or if it had been ripped up or burned. He didn’t care. It wasn’t hanging up where he had to see it every day anymore.
Thank God.
Ellie often said that she needed the bar because her house wasn’t big enough to feed everyone at once. It seemed a house wouldn’t have been big enough for her to display all of her mementos either.
Ellie, Fletcher’s grandmother on his dad’s side, owned the bar with her best friend, Cora—the two women had also lived next door to one another for more than fifty years now—and while Ellie dealt with the regulars and tourists up front and made the gumbo, Cora made pretty much everything else. Where Ellie was blunt and rough-around-the-edges, Cora was sweet and warm.
Ellie would greet them all after school with a chore list and Cora would greet them with cookies.
Ellie would give them advice like, “pull your head out of your ass” while Cora would say things like, “don’t fear your mistakes, you can learn as much from them as the things you get right.”
Ellie would discipline them by cutting them off from their favorite foods, making the chores list longer, or, when they got older, making them sit behind the bar reading Shakespeare to her while she worked. All of her grandchildren knew all of William’s works and each had a favorite. Fletcher was partial to Much Ado About Nothing.
Cora, on the other hand, disciplined them by scolding. And then giving them cookies.
Most of the Landry kids had been at least ten before they realized, or understood, that Cora wasn’t actually their biological grandmother. And it had never mattered even after they’d figured that out. Cora was family and blood was only a tiny part of that in the Landry clan.
“Finally!” was how Ellie greeted Fletcher and Jordan.
She was, of course, the first to cross the room and grab them both in a hug.
Fletcher squeezed her back, but then disentangled himself so she could dote on Jordan properly. He’d just left Autre last night. Ellie hadn’t seen Jordan in months. And he knew his grandmother was outraged over what Jason had done and had been worrying.
Jordan, like Cora, had just always been a part of the Landry family. She’d been there every day after school with him for cookies, she’d swum from his family’s docks, she’d run around all of their backyards, and been a regular at every Friday night crawfish boil.
Ellie released Jordan from the hug after a long moment and a hard squeeze. “What do you need?” Ellie asked, Jordan’s face in her hands. “Gumbo? Pot pie? Pecan pie?”
Jordan grinned. “Yes.”
Ellie laughed. “That’s my girl. And sweet tea. There’s no way they had good sweet tea in Vegas.”
“You are absolutely right about that,” Jordan agreed.
“Move over. You can’t hog her all night.” Cora pushed in next to Ellie. “Darling,” she said to Jordan with a sweet smile before pulling her into a hug.
“Hi, Cora.” Jordan hugged her back.
Fletcher saw the way Jordan’s eyes slid shut and the little smile on her face made his heart kick.
Yes.
The sense of satisfaction that washed through him was strong and welcome.
He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do when he’d left this building last night. He’d gotten her away from Las Vegas and the bright lights and the crazy Jason fans and the humiliation and confusion and brought her home. She might have purple hair, but that would wash out. She might be exhausted and hungry, but dammit, those were very fixable problems.
She was safe. She was with family and friends who loved her.
And she was his.
That’s all he needed to know.
Leo, Fletcher’s grandfather, pushed in next, gathering Jordan up and squeezing her tight. “About time you came home to us, girl.”
Jordan sniffed as she hugged Leo back. “So happy to be home.”
Leo let her go and turned her to the next person in line.
“Mom!” Jordan exclaimed.
Molly Benoit’s cheeks were wet but her smile was bright as she pulled her daughter into her arms.
Fletcher looked at Ellie with wide eyes. He hadn’t known Molly and Eli Benoit were going to be there. His grandmother gave him a smile and a wink. She’d invited them. She’d known he’d be bringing Jordan home and that her family should be here.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Molly told Jordan, still holding her tightly. Then Molly looked up at him over Jordan’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Fletcher was surprised. “For?”
“For always taking care of her.”
That hit him directly in the chest. Fuck yes. Everyone knew that Jordan belonged with him. Even her mother. Even just a few hours after the breakup of her eleven-year relationship.
“I always will,” he promised.
“I know.” Molly’s expression was one of pure affection for him.
Fletcher felt that to his toes.
He’d always been close to the Benoits, just as Jordan had been to the Landrys. He knew they liked him. He was completely comfortable in their home. He knew they trusted him implicitly.
The way Molly was looking at him now was how every man could only dream his mother-in-law would look at him. Love, trust, respect, happiness that he was a part of the family.
A niggle of guilt tickled the back of his conscience. Molly should have been there to hear him promise to love Jordan and take care of her always during their wedding ceremony.
Shit.
All of these people who loved them and always had their backs should have been a part of that.
No, it hadn’t been something he’d planned. Yes, it had been impulsive. No, he didn’t regret it. Yes, it still felt strange that none of these people had been a part of their wedding.