by Tessa Teevan
He sighs. “I know. I just… I never thought there’d be so much pressure. Or that going into accounting would have anything to do with acquisitions or mergers.”
“I know. Who knew we’d be considered silent support?”
“If it weren’t for you, Sawyer, and Cheyenne, I doubt I’d still be here. I miss California,” he opines, and I sit up straight, looking at him.
“What about Corinna?” I ask, and he just shrugs.
I pick up my laptop and navigate to her page, my nose wrinkling when I see that her latest blog post is
“Hey, I have an idea. We both have sucky love lives. Let’s send her blog questions and see if she can give better advice to others than what she follows herself.”
Bryan gives me a sheepish grin.
I throw a pillow at him. “Don’t tell me you’re already doing that!”
For the first time tonight, he laughs. “Okay, fine. I won’t tell you. Now, why don’t you tell me why you need me to act as your date this weekend. Isn’t a wedding the perfect place for you to meet someone? Why pretend to be attached?”
I groan. The truth is I’ve regretted asking Bryan to be my “date” ever since. At the same time, I’m nervous about seeing Shane again. I can’t be objective when it comes to him. I’m not actually sure why I want to be. The ball’s been in his court, yet I haven’t heard a word. So, if Bryan’s presence there makes him a bit jealous, I’m okay with that.
Okay, I’m hoping it makes him more than a bit jealous.
“I slept with one of the groomsmen last year, and I’m trying to make him jealous,” I blurt out, blaming the two glasses of wine I’ve had for my loose lips.
Bryan raises an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me that I’m just arm candy for you at your sister’s wedding?”
I grimace. “Is that okay?”
“We’ll just put it in the column of you owing me one.”
“Hey, any time you need a hot piece to make some dude jealous, you know where to find me.”
The way he says it makes it sound terrible and I have half a mind to tell him not to worry about it. But then Tom Hardy appears on the screen and I decide I’ll sleep on it. What’s the worst that could happen?
“THIS PLACE is insane,” my cousin Sierra whispers as she twirls her little girl, Ava, around the room.
Lexi, Sierra’s sister, grins over at where Sierra tosses Ava onto the plushest, most comfortable-looking bed I’ve ever seen. In her arms is her baby daughter, Maya, who’s currently cooing up at the sight of her mother. My heart squeezes, and my biological clock ticks just a little louder. Which is ridiculous since I’m only twenty-four. But when you’re surrounded by soon-to-be brides, new mothers, and a cousin who’s been with the same man for practically her entire life, you get the itch to get that part of your life moving along. Too bad I have no prospects.
Except for maybe one. Not that Shane’s tried contacting me lately. The last time we spoke was when I’d called to tell him about what Benjamin and Branson’s ex had done. He did exactly what I thought he would—he gave Branson a swift kick in the ass, and here we are. The night before the wedding.
I’m nervous about seeing him again, which is silly. But in the months since we nearly crossed paths at the winery, he sent flowers, wine, cards, emails. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t reread those cheesy jokes a couple dozen times or two. Since that last phone call, however, it’s been radio silence.
He actually finally has my number and hasn’t used it once.
He is giving a girl a complex.
The only things that kept my mind from freaking out about his sudden change were Ari and Bryan. Ari, because she sprang a Christmas wedding on me with less than three months to prepare, and Bryan, because in the time since he moved in, we’ve become best friends. I’ve never been this close to someone other than my sister, and it’s nice to come home at the end of the day to someone I care about.
And since we’re both pining over people, if we’re not running, we do the platonic Netflix and chill most nights. I could’ve kissed him for introducing me to Altered Carbon. Especially for the fact that Joel Kinnaman’s body reminded me so much of Shane’s—I dreamt of them both.
What a fantastic sandwich those two made.
“You look like you’re about to take a bite out of that purse.” Jeremy, Sierra’s husband, has opened the door and crossed the threshold. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in months, and in an instant, I smile.
“I’m ravenous,” I tell him, and try to muster a smile.
Jeremy holds his arms out wide and gestures to me. “Come on, Lyssa. Come to Jeremy and tell him whose ass he needs to kick.”
I glance at Sierra, who shrugs.
“I’ve tried to break him of the third person schtick,” she says. “Every time I do, he doubles down.”
“Jeremy can hear you,” he replies.
Ariana and I burst into a fit of giggles. We both cross to him at the same time and he folds us in his arms.
“My second favorite set of sisters,” he says, a grin in his voice.
Jeremy’s been a part of our family since…well, since as long as I can remember. He’s the brother none of us ever had—except for Sierra. He went from boy-next-door to best friend to first kiss to husband, father, and everything else they are to each other that I don’t really want to explore. He’s the goofiest, sweetest, most kindhearted man I’ve ever met, and I couldn’t love him more.
In fact, when I pull back, I look around the room and realize how fortunate I am.
Because this is where I find myself, surrounded by those who mean the most to me as we stand in my sister’s room at the Wellington mansion. Before Jeremy came in, us ladies had been waiting as Ariana put the finishing touches on her makeup. Now that I’m taking in the sight of her, I’m astounded.
She’s a vision in a long-sleeved, pale-pink gown with lace from her shoulders to her wrists. A cute, little baby bump is highlighted by a sash tied around her waist. Yep, not only did Branson and Ariana have a whirlwind romance that resulted in a fast trip to the altar, they’re also going to be parents in less than six months. Not that this is a shotgun wedding. Baby or not, they wanted a December wedding, so that’s where we are.
Tears well in my eyes as I’m unable to believe that what was once a fake engagement turned real, and soon, I’ll not only have a brother-in-law, but a niece or nephew, too. Branson and Ariana’s relationship was a whirlwind, and if it were anyone else, I’d question it. But all you have to do is take one look at them to see a couple crazy in love and utterly perfect for each other.
Jeremy’s throat clearing has me wiping an errant tear. “I was sent to fetch you ladies. And while I may have grumbled that the wealthy Wellingtons were making me their errand boy, the joke’s on them,” he says, his voice teasing. He takes the baby from Lexi’s arms. “Because I’m the first to tell you how beautiful you all are.”
“Even me, Daddy?” Ava asks.
He beams at his daughter. “Especially you, Ava.” He then gives her a mock glare. “Except you can’t ever get married.”
She giggles. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry Tucker!”
He scowls, and Sierra giggles. “Jeremy, she’s your daughter. Does it really surprise you she’s already in love with the boy next door?”
Before he can respond, Lexi cuts in. “If we don’t get moving, we’ll be here until Maya’s old enough to marry. Let’s go, people!”
Have I mentioned how much I love my family?
We all file out of the room, giving Ariana the lead so she can be the first to greet her groom.
Just as we get to the top of the stairs, Ari stops, glancing down. She brings her hand to her chest as if she can’t believe the sight she’s seeing. When I reach her and look down, I’m not surprised to see Branson standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, waiting there for her. He’s in a dark suit, with immaculate hair and just the hint of a five-o’clock shadow. He’s always been handsome, but the e
xpression on his face right now? He’s never been more becoming.
“Daddy, he looks like Flynn Ryder!” Ava whispers behind us.
“Baby, you think everyone with brown hair and a chiseled jaw looks like Flynn Ryder,” Jeremy reminds her.
“What’s chiseled mean?”
I giggle, but Ariana doesn’t even hear. She’s too transfixed on Branson, and I can see why. He softly holds his gaze on her as she descends. I’m not sure if he’s even aware there are two women, a man, a toddler, and a baby behind her. In fact, I’d bet on the fact he has no idea Ariana has an entourage. He only has eyes for her.
“You are, by far, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he croons—yes, croons!—when she reaches him, his hand cupping her cheek as his lips swipe across hers.
My inner romance junkie is swooning, even though I’m actually rolling my eyes, used to the usual display of affection. But it’s in my nature to tease, so tease I do. “Come on, Wellington. She’s already marrying you. No need to lay it on so thick.”
His eyes dance when they rise to me. He slips his arm around Ari’s waist and slides one hand down to the small of her back. Or, knowing Branson, said hand is now probably resting on the curve of her ass. Both of his brows rise and he gives me a pointed look. “I seem to recall a runaway bride situation…” he quips, causing me to laugh.
I wasn’t sure if Ariana’s previous rehearsal dinner experience would put a damper on this night, and Branson’s already tossing it out there like it’s nothing. Because he’s right. It’s nothing. Tonight is theirs, and I couldn’t be happier.
Ariana’s cheeks flush, but she laughs and swats at his arm before gazing up into his eyes, looking at the man as if the sun rises and sets solely for him. Which, for her, I suppose it does. “I may have run away, Branson. I’ll never regret it because I was running away to you.”
Gag.
Double gag when Branson once again shoves his tongue into her readily accepting mouth.
Ava’s squeals echo around the room. “Daddy, he’s kissing her like you kiss Mommy!”
Sigh. If anyone ever tells you romance dies after so long in a marriage, I’ll simply introduce them to Jeremy and Sierra Banks.
“Don’t look away. It’s a rare sight to see a Wellington so affectionate in the wild,” Shane whispers in my ear.
I want to shiver but I don’t want him to know one sentence affects me. Or, well, his nearness. “Apparently you haven’t seen those two together very often.”
I turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. All sense of self-preservation, however, is erased when my eyes meet his. He asked me once if I missed him. I was honest. I told him I did.
This moment, however? I realize I’ve missed him so much more than I let myself believe. Which is kind of silly, right? How can you miss someone you only knew for less than forty-eight hours?
Yet here I am, feeling just that.
I’m torn between wanting to throw myself into his arms and bring my foot between his legs for leaving me high and dry. I opt, instead, for placing my hands on my hips and glaring at him. Yeah, I’m really good at this whole foreplay thing. I’m joking, except when I see the way Shane’s mouth curves into a wicked grin, I realize that maybe this entire cat-and-mouse game really is what he’s going for.
A low chuckle emits from his lips. “Alas, you have me there.” He sighs as he watches Branson and Ariana suck face as if they aren’t going on a honeymoon tomorrow night where they could do that to their heart’s contents. “I never would’ve thought a coldhearted, son-of-a-bitch, workaholic like Branson would ever be so…gone over a woman. But it’s a good look on him.”
A throat clears. “Excuse me, young man, I heard that. Hmmph.”
We both turn and see a beautiful older woman with laugh lines trying to maintain an irritated look at her nephew. Amelia Wellington, the mother of the so-called son of a bitch, glares at Shane before turning her attention to her son, who apparently didn’t hear any of the commotion. She calls his name twice, and still he doesn’t come up for air.
Amelia crosses to him and raps him on the head with her tiny Coach purse, finally causing him to break away from Ari’s mouth long enough to curse and glower at his mother.
“What the hell was that for?”
“First of all, Branson Wellington,” she admonishes even though he’s thirty-three, “do not curse in the presence of ladies.”
“But—” he begins, but she holds a hand up, shushing him as if he’s still a child.
“You will have all the time in the world to ravish your wife tomorrow after you’ve said your vows,” she tells her oldest son in a no-nonsense tone.
Branson’s eyes twinkle at her words. “Uh huh. Because Dad waited until your wedding night,” he teases, causing a deep crimson blush to rise on Amelia’s cheeks.
“As if I could have ever done that,” a booming voice replies. “You know what they say. Like father, like son. And your mother knows how the father was.”
A smile crosses my lips when Knox Jr. slides his arm around Amelia’s waist and leans in for a kiss. Her blush deepens, if possible, but she accepts his lips.
After a loud smack, she pulls away and claps her hands together. The woman’s a force to be reckoned with, barking orders like a sharp drill instructor.
In the melee that follows, I lose sight of Shane. I’m shuffled along into a limo with my sister, Branson, my cousins, and Jeremy. Ava’s bouncing with excitement, and I wish it were contagious.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed as Shane strolls past the limo and slides into a sleek older-looking Mustang behind us. I try to push all thoughts of him out of my mind, but it’s no use. If anything, his proximity only made thoughts of him intensify.
It seemed easy to fight my attraction when he wasn’t right in my face, but since my heartbeat still quickens just at the sight of him, I don’t know how strong I’ll be. I don’t actually know why I want to be.
We’ll be in close proximity over the next twenty-four hours. Twenty-four long, painful hours which will be spent with longing, desire, regret, and possibly stupid decisions, especially if I drink too much champagne. And the Wellingtons? According to Ariana, they only serve the best, so how can I not indulge?
“Where’s Jace?” Ariana asks Lexi.
Lexi gives her a warm smile. “You must’ve missed him while Branson was…um, greeting you at the bottom of the stairs.”
“While he was kissing her, Aunt Lexi,” Ava corrects, wrinkling her little nose.
The mouths of babes.
Lexi looks to Jeremy and Sierra. “You two are the worst influences.”
Jeremy leans across the car and kisses his wife, much to Ava’s chagrin. Then he gives Lexi a wry smile. “What you mean to say is we’re setting the best example.”
“Weren’t you just saying Ava will never get married?” I interject.
Lexi cuts in just as Jeremy’s about to protest. “Even though we’re so close to the venue, Jace didn’t want to let Maya ride in the limo.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s so protective of her.”
At that, Jeremy and Lexi get into a debate over the difference between protective and overprotective. Sierra just shrugs at me as if she’s used to it. I enjoy listening to my family bicker.
Fortunately, because the Wellingtons opened their home for the wedding party to stay, the ride to the venue isn’t long. I glance out the window, my eyes widening when we pull up to the Belle Mead Plantation, not far from the Wellingtons’ home. It’s where both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding are being held. I’m in complete awe as we make our way down the drive. White lights twinkle everywhere, and delightful red bows on wreaths adorn each window. As it’s a Christmas wedding, the grounds are covered with Christmas cheer.
I couldn’t imagine a more magical setting for a winter wedding; it’s the perfect place for two to become one.
Speaking of, Branson and Ariana have been silent since Jeremy and Lexi’s debate. I glance over
at my sister, who’s holding hands with her groom, gazing up at him with demure eyes. Branson’s head is tilted towards her, his unrelenting stare locking her in tight. All the while, his hand rests on her bump as if protecting what is his. Seriously. If the desire blazing in his eyes is any indication, Ari must be exhausted from all that ravishing.
Lucky lady.
The whole setting is all so romantic, and I sigh, for a split-second wondering if this will ever happen for me. I push the thought aside as we park and exit the limo, taking in the sights around us. Ava’s excitement leads us inside, where the plantation is much like the outside: a true Christmas wonderland. Soft sounds of “White Christmas” lead us to the banquet room, where an older gentleman in a neat suit is sitting at a grand piano, his fingers moving along the keys with expert precision.
Over the next half hour, the priest leads us through the wedding rehearsal. As I make my way down the aisle, I’m determined to keep my eyes off Shane.
I fail with such misery that Kathy Bates would approve.
When my eyes meet his, I nearly trip over my heels right here in the middle of the aisle. His intense gaze is one I’ve seen before. Only once—that night he took my virginity, the look of pleasure on his face after we both came. His head tilted back, his eyes hooded, nearly closed, with a broad smile showcasing a dimple I hadn’t seen in the dark.
His appraising glance tells me all I need to know.
Shane Wellington likes what he sees.
And what he sees is me.
These will be the hardest twenty-four hours of my life.
Or perhaps the most incredible, most pleasurable, if I stop being so damn stubborn and just give in.
Because let’s be honest.
When you get a taste of decadence, one bite is never enough.
AFTER THAT semi-disastrous dinner with Alyssa and the way she blew me off in the cab—and not in the way I would’ve liked—I decided I wasn’t giving up so easily.