Grant leaned forward and set a hand to his shoulder. “Rather have my bike full of holes than you, brother.” He slipped his sunglasses back on. “Ella really planning on marrying Brian tomorrow?” He directed his focus on the house. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I don’t like the guy.”
“No one does,” A.J. muttered and faced his parents’ two-story home, taking in the wraparound porch with a new perspective ever since Ana had declared how much she loved it and wanted one someday.
Leaving her earlier that day had been hard, but he kept reminding himself he would see her back in D.C. on Monday. He’d gotten used to spending every day with her, and he was looking forward to their time together that wouldn’t involve getting shot at.
“Maybe you should go talk to her one more time? Feel her out.” Grant lifted his chin toward the house where Ella was inside getting ready with Rory.
“And have her hate me again? Surely the guys told you about the aftermath of the bachelor party.” He winced at the memory.
Ella was moving to Mobile, and . . .
Shit, maybe Grant was right. “Okay.” He slapped his palms together. “One more shot.”
“I’ll wait in the truck with the engine running in case you need to make a run for it.” Grant opened the door to the driver’s side.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He smirked, then started for the house. It was hot as blazes out there in his jeans, black boots, and long-sleeved black “dress shirt” his mother had insisted he wear for dinner. Thirty-eight, and his mom still wanted to dress him.
He made a beeline for the stairs, worried he’d lose his nerve if he didn’t head straight for Ella’s room. He knocked on the door and waited for a beat before calling out, “You decent?”
“Come in,” Ella answered, her tone so soft he nearly missed her words.
Ella’s eyes moved to catch him in the mirror of the vanity as he entered the room, but her body remained stiff as she sat facing forward in the chair beneath an arched window that overlooked the front of the property. Their mom had kept their rooms exactly how they left them when they’d each moved out. Ella’s walls were still covered with pictures of her childhood crushes alongside of her very first fashion sketches pinned to a bulletin board.
“Almost done.” Rory garbled around the bobby pins clenched between her teeth as she worked to put Ella’s hair into some fancy updo.
Rory was wearing a pale pink, sleeveless dress that went to her knees, her blonde hair down over her shoulders, while his sister was in a fitted dark wrap dress that made him feel like they were going to a funeral instead of a rehearsal dinner the night before what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Based on the way Ella eyed him in the mirror, A.J. must have been giving off the Are you sure? vibe all over his face
“Can I just have one minute?” He removed his black cowboy hat and set it against his thigh.
Rory secured two more pins in Ella’s hair and then smiled. “Done. You look gorgeous.” She whirled around and stole a look at A.J., shooting him a glare that read, Don’t break her heart. “One minute.” She held up a finger. “That’s all you get. Or I’ll send Brooke in here, and I know she’s one bridesmaid you’d prefer to avoid.”
“I don’t need to avoid her, but—”
“A.J.’s a taken man now, didn’t you hear?” Ella smiled. The first real one he’d seen since arriving a few hours ago.
Oh, he was sure Rory had heard. All of Alabama had to have heard that A.J. was dating Ana, the FBI agent whose face had been all over the international news recently.
“Well, it’s too bad your friend Chris didn’t come with you.” Rory started past him. “Surely Brooke would’ve left you alone if she’d set eyes on that man.”
“Ha.” He shook his head. “Like you would have been okay if Brooke threw herself at Chris?”
Rory’s mouth twisted, and she stuck her nose in the air. Uh-huh, just what I thought. A.J. gave her a smirk.
“I’ll give you that minute,” she said in a haughty tone.
A.J. waited for Rory to leave, then sat on Ella’s childhood bed. “I’m surprised you didn’t design your wedding gown yourself.” His gaze moved to the dress hanging on the back of her closet door.
Ella peered his way, and he saw pain in her eyes. “Yeah, well, you know . . .” She trailed off, looking back to the mirror. “And, um, it’s too bad Ana couldn’t come with you this weekend. Despite all the crazy Russian espionage stuff, and Beckett originally blowing a fuse about it, she fit in down here. I hope you don’t screw things up with her.” She stood and snatched her black, strappy wedge sandals and slipped them on.
“I won’t screw things up,” he muttered in protest, then tightened his hand on the brim of his hat as he held it on his lap. Way to turn the conversation, Ella. “I have every intention of marrying that woman. No doubt in my mind.” And he had no qualms about admitting it, either. “But, Ella Mae, do you have doubts about tomorrow?” And there, he said it. What choice did he have?
A.J. focused on Ella’s reflection in the mirror, her eyes revealing the truth that yes, she did have doubts. He’d seen his sister with Brian enough times to know that she’d never once looked like a woman in love when they were together because now, thanks to Ana, he was very familiar with that look. Ana’s love for him shined through her eyes and melted his heart every time they gazed at each other.
“Please, don’t do this. I already got an earful from Shep and Caleb. And a few grumpy warnings from Beckett last night, too.” She clutched the skirt of her dress. “I don’t know why you’re all so against my happiness.”
“Don’t you get it? We’re concerned you’re not happy.” He stood and circled a hand around her wrist. “Just tell me why you want to marry him. Tell me what the rest of your life would be like without him.”
Her eyes dropped closed, and her lower lip trembled.
“You know that horrible, empty feeling as though your soul has left your body, and you can’t breathe? Can’t eat. Everything hurts on the inside, and your heart is just . . . gone?” He took a shaky breath himself, finding a lump in his throat. “That’s how I feel when I imagine what my life would be like without Anastasia. And I just want to know if you have that same gut-wrenching, painful feeling when you imagine your life without Brian. Just think about it.” He released her and turned, then froze, worried he was seeing things again.
His heart was in his throat. His pulse racing. About every other emotion imaginable washed over him the second he saw Ana backing up, her beautiful face tinged pink as if embarrassed to have interrupted his conversation, but—
“Ana,” he breathed out, dropping his hat. “You’re here.” Once the shock wore off, he hurried to the door.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Grant told me you’d be upstairs,” she said as he scooped her in his arms like he hadn’t seen her in months instead of just hours.
“What are you doing here? How did ya even get here?” He set her down, still utterly surprised by her presence.
“I know a guy who knows a guy.” She smiled, then pointed to the window.