by M. C. Decker
“Earth to Ireland,” Katie said, breaking through my thoughts.
“Shit. Sorry. Shit—I just swore in church. Shit,” I stammered.
“Snap out of it. Will you, please?” she demanded sternly before continuing. “I need Greg’s ring. And wipe the drool from your chin.”
I looked at her with wide eyes before handing her the titanium band. “Seriously? I was drooling?” I questioned.
“No, but you very well could’ve been with that dopey smile on your sex-flushed face,” she whisper-yelled. “Now would you pay attention to me—your best friend? It is MY wedding day after all.”
Greg’s niece and nephew were twirling around the dance floor to “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” pretending to be Baby and Johnny out on the dance floor. I was almost certain it was Katie who had played Dirty Dancing for the kids a time or two. She’d been obsessed with that movie since before we’d even met.
When she told me she was marrying Greg, I was actually terrified that she was going to make the entire bridal party learn the movie’s closing routine complete with the deadlift jump. Thank god she’d never approached me with the idea and I definitely wasn’t going to give her the suggestion. I’d seen all of those videos trending on YouTube with the bridal party learning iconic eighties numbers and the last thing I wanted was for my uncoordinated ass to be plastered on the Internet for all eternity.
As engrossed as I was watching Greg’s niece and nephew, I didn’t notice anyone approaching me from behind.
“Care to dance?” Bentley whispered, placing his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into him. I quickly stepped out of his embrace, not wanting myself to so easily fall into the comfort he was offering me.
“Shit!” I said, punching him in the arm. “Don’t do that again, you scared me.”
“Sorry, I forgot my Shamrock was really more of a pansy,” he said with a chuckle.
“I see you haven’t changed at all. Still the same smart ass you were as a teenager,” I said, not humored at his attempt at sarcasm.
“You’re confusing me, Shamrock.”
“Why am I confusing you?” I snapped.
“For starters you need to lighten up a bit,” he suggested, rolling his eyes. “And, secondly, you’re confusing me because I noticed you staring at me—your eyes practically devouring me during the ceremony. But since then you’ve avoided me like the plague. And, now I ask you to dance and instead of falling into my arms you recoil like I’m a snake. What gives, Ireland?”
I sighed, knowing that he’d eventually want answers.
“I’m not avoiding you and I definitely wasn’t staring. I see we can add vanity to your list of attributes,” I said, straight-faced.
“Seriously, Shamrock, stop the charade,” he pleaded. “I know you. This girl isn’t you. And, I know Katie well enough to know that her best friend wouldn’t be a first class bitch.”
I stopped at his words. He was right; I was putting up a front. I had to shut him out now, or run the risk of losing him all over again. I already lost him once before, and I think I’d crumble if I had to go through that pain and torment again.
“I guess you’re going for the silent treatment now, huh? Oh wait, I remember now, you’re more of a Flashdance girl, aren’t you? Why didn’t you just say something? I’m sure I can request a song,” he said with a knowing smirk.
“Oh my god! Isn’t that what we danced to at my Aunt Char’s wedding? I can’t believe you actually remember that,” I chuckled. “You wanted nothing to do with me. You were dancing so far away from me that a third person could have been between us. You didn’t even want to hold my hands!”
“Yeah, I guess it took me awhile to realize how great you were,” he said with a wink.
Without even thinking, I put my hand to my neck and began fingering my heart-shaped locket. It had always provided me with comfort when I’d been in an uneasy situation.
“Is that—is that what I think it is?” Bentley questioned, before reaching out and placing three fingers on my chest.
My breath hitched at his touch. I said a silent prayer that he hadn’t noticed. He moved his fingers and placed them over mine on the locket.
“Relax, Ireland. It’s just me,” he whispered, as he opened the locket to reveal the two photographs I kept tucked safely inside. On the left was a picture of my mother and me during my Aunt Char’s wedding reception. She’d picked me up and was twirling me around the dance floor when my Uncle James had captured the moment. On the right side was a picture of Bentley and me on the day we’d finished the tree house behind his parents’ cabin in the Smokies.
“You still wear this?” he questioned.
“Every day,” I whispered, holding back the tears that were just beginning to well up.
“I’m sorry, Bentley, but I can’t do this. Not tonight—maybe not ever,” I said, as I turned to walk away.
“Don’t run again, Ireland,” Bentley said, grabbing me by the shoulders.
“Run?” I practically seethed. “You think I ran? I didn’t have a choice, Bentley! They took me away. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I had to leave.”
“You could have stayed with us. I told you before the funeral that you could stay with us.”
“Bentley, we were kids. We couldn’t make those kinds of decisions. There were laws—formalities.”
“But, my parents said you could’ve come with us. We looked for you for months. After you left, I begged them to find you. You may not realize it, but I lost everything that day, too, Ireland. Uncle James was my best friend—my role model. And, you—you were My Everything. Even at sixteen, I thought the sun rose and set by you. I loved you, Shamrock,” he admitted, his frustration only growing with each word he spoke.
My ears began to ring. Surely it was the loud jazz music coming from the ballroom. I must be hearing things. There is no way that Bentley just told me that he’d loved me.
“Did you hear me, Ireland? I said I loved you.”
“Ye—yes, I heard you,” I stuttered, shakily. “But, why? Why are you telling me this now? I don’t even know who you are anymore. You have a successful career, a wife—a son. And, me. I’m not the same fourteen-year-old girl who you loved, Bentley. I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman with eighteen years of baggage.”
Taking his finger, he tucked a fallen piece of blond hair behind the gardenia that was fastened behind my ear. He moved in so closely I could feel his breath with each word he spoke. “I’m telling you because I’ve missed you, Shamrock. Not a day’s gone by in those eighteen years when I haven’t thought about you. You were even on my mind the day I married my ex-wife.”
I gasped at his admission.
“That’s right. I loved Staci, but I caught myself remembering you on my wedding day. Maybe that’s why the marriage was doomed before it even began. Maybe I didn’t give her the kind of attention a husband should give his wife. Maybe that’s why she sought out the love of other men and cheated on me more times than I care to discuss right now,” he huffed.
“I’ll never regret being with her because I have Tanner, but you must know she’s in the past, Ireland. So, how’s that for eighteen years of baggage?” he continued, rubbing the creases in his forehead. I didn’t notice the faint lines before, but in my opinion they didn’t make him look older. They made him look wiser and more mature than the carefree Bentley from all those years ago. I’m sure each line told a story, and in that moment I found myself wanting to know about each one—all eighteen years’ worth.
“I—I didn’t realize. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now, but just know I’m not letting this go. I’m not letting you walk away. Not this time,” he said with confidence as he quickly turned and left me alone once again on the dance floor. I guess this time he was the one to walk away.
The music stopped as Katie hobbled off the dance floor and headed my way.
“What’d he say to you? He’s upset you, hasn’t he?�
�� she asked, pointing toward Bentley. “I’m so sorry, Ireland. If I’d had known that Jamie was THE Bentley then Greg and I would’ve never asked him to be in the wedding. You know that, right. You’re my best friend—practically my sister—and I’d never want to hurt you and jeopardize our relationship.”
“I’m fine. He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” I sighed. “But, this conversation, is for another day—we’ll make it a girls’ day when you get back from Bora Bora. I’ll tell you all about my troubles then. Maybe I’ll even come to your office and lie on your massive couch.”
“You don’t pay me enough to be able to sleep on my couch,” she sassed.
“You’re right, my friendship is the only payment you need. And we’re changing the subject, so tell me why you’re walking like your eighty-year-old grandmother?”
“Pfft. Have you seen Doris bust a move on the dance floor tonight? Ever since she got her knees and hips done she’s been a beast. I wish I could fly around like she does.”
“Yeah, I did,” I chuckled. “She had Bentley out there doing the Cha-Cha Slide. I thought he was going to wave his white flag if she’d kept going. Seriously though, are you OK? You look like you’re about to die. The Grumpy Cat scowl on your face doesn’t scream blushing bride.”
“Yeah, my feet are just killing me. Whoever told me to buy the four-inch stilettos needs to be punched in the throat,” she said, glaring at me. “Oh wait! That was you! ‘They’re cute,’ you said. ‘Think about how they’ll look in the air and wrapped around your husband’s neck,’ you said. I think you forgot to factor in how miserable I would be and how much I really enjoy my Tieks.”
“You done?”
“What? Tieks even came out with a new bridal line!” she huffed.
“No? How ‘bout now? You done now?”
“Fine, but these damn things are going in the garbage in the morning. I do fully intend to make use of them tonight, though.”
“See! You can’t deny the fact that you’re already wet thinking about seeing those resting on Greg’s shoulders as he eats at your buffet later. Am I right?” I said, nudging her in the shoulder.
We were both doubled over in laughter when Bentley and Greg approached us from behind.
Bentley put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
“You’re dancing with me this time. I’m not taking no for an answer so don’t even try to pull away,” he stated gruffly into my ear. Before I even had time to respond, the DJ began announcing the next song.
“This song goes out to tonight’s maid of honor from the best man,” he said over the loudspeaker. “Shamrock, here’s to reconnecting, second chances, and never having to say goodbye.”
I heard just the first few beats of Meghan Trainor’s and John Legend’s duet, “Like I’m Gonna Lose You,” and the tears began. The song fit us like a glove—like it was written just for the two of us.
Bentley pulled me into his chest and wiped my tears with his thumb.
“I thought when you walked away earlier that we were done,” I whispered.
“I was giving you some time—some space. I know seeing each other after all the years has been difficult for you. Shit, it’s been difficult for me. But, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel an immediate connection with you. I’m drawn to you, Shamrock. Please say you’ll dance with me?”
“I didn’t think you were giving me a choice,” I teased. “But if you’re really giving me the option …” I added with a wink.
“Yeah, I’m not. Especially since you’re toying with me now. Do you see what you’re doing to me?” he said, nodding down at his fully aroused state.
I gasped at his candidness. “Bentley!”
Bentley released me from his hold and grabbed my hands so there was at least some space between us.
“Don’t make me apologize for wanting you, Shamrock. I’m a man—a man with needs—and you’re fucking gorgeous. I always thought you were pretty, but fuck …” he trailed off, as he began eyeing me up and down as if he were a lion and I his prey.
I stood there speechless for a moment. “The song is almost over. Maybe we should just actually dance since you went to the trouble of requesting it for me,” I finally suggested.
“I think you’re right,” he agreed, pulling me toward the dance floor.
Once we’d secured our place among the other couples, he brought me to his chest once again. His fingers rubbed up and down my spine as I placed my cheek against his chest. The sound of Bentley’s heart beating was a reminder that he was here with me and I couldn’t be afraid to lose him—like I seemed to lose everyone that I’ve ever cared about.
The song ended, but we held each other for a few more beats. I tried pulling away, but instead he cupped the side of my face and looked deep into my soul. Without hesitation, Bentley lightly brushed his lips against mine. His lips tasted like the champagne we’d both been drinking throughout the night. I suddenly craved more and I wasn’t talking about the bubbly. I needed more Bentley.
I hummed, virtually giving him the go-ahead to deepen the kiss. He moved without hesitation as he nipped on my lower lip before parting my seam with a flick of his tongue. Our tongues danced to the rhythm of the next song and I could feel his arousal only grow against my stomach. His lips were searing mine. The kiss was deep and passionate as if he were branding me—marking me as his own.
With his kiss, I was transported back in time when Bentley and I first kissed—only I was twelve then and we were experimenting in his tree house.
We’d spent three summers designing and constructing the tree house with a lot of extra help from Uncle James. Bentley’s family had a cabin in the Smoky Mountains near Gatlinburg and my mom and I often visited when my Aunt Char and Uncle James would stay.
“Bentley, why does this sign say no girls allowed?” I asked, ripping the sign down as I crouched down so I wouldn’t hit my head on the low-hanging piece of tree bark. “I’m a girl and I helped you build this thing. Are we not friends anymore?”
“You’re not a girl. You don’t count, Shamrock.”
“I am too a girl,” I yelled.
“Well you aren’t one of THOSE girls.”
“And who are THOSE girls?” I questioned.
“All of the girls at school want to hold hands and kiss and stuff. You aren’t like that, Shamrock.”
I sighed for a minute. I was like that—I just couldn’t tell him. I really liked Bentley, but I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I guess this was my chance. It was now or never.
“But …” I paused.
“But what, Shamrock? Spill it. No secrets between us, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” I said, hesitantly. “But, what if I wanted to kiss you?”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
I needed to tell him the truth—it was now or never. “Yes,” I said, blinking rapidly so I could avoid looking him in the eyes.
“I’ve waited forever to hear you say that,” he sighed in relief, before coming in and planting the wettest, sloppiest kiss on my lips.
I squirmed with the sudden invasion of his lips on mine and fell backwards onto the floor boards. I bumped my head and the walls of the tree house began spinning around me. I tried to sit up but my ponytail holder got caught around one of the nails in the floor. If I’d fallen on it any harder, it probably would’ve pierced my skin. Bentley put his hand behind my head and tried unhooking my hair tie, but his thumb managed to pick up a splinter in the process. He was finally able to get me down the ladder and back to the cabin where his mom was able to remove the splinter wedged in his thumb.
Because of my fall, my mom insisted on taking me to the hospital. I had to spend the evening in the emergency room where I was treated for a concussion. I remember Bentley sat by my bed holding my hand the entire time, saying he would never try and kiss me again. I knew I didn’t want that, but I did think that whoever thought first kisses were magical was sadly mistaken.
I chuckled to
myself before Bentley pulled away. He left me breathless and I immediately yearned for his warm lips against mine.
“I know you aren’t actually laughing because there’s nothing to laugh about here,” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Oh, I’m most definitely not laughing at what just happened. No, that—that was definitely magical unlike our first kiss. Do you remember that afternoon in the tree house?”
He laughed, “How could I forget? I do believe I said I would never kiss you again.”
“It didn’t take you long to break that promise,” I reminded him. “I’m pretty sure you were kissing me again the next day.”
“I was and if I recall it got better with each kiss,” he said, pecking me on the nose before he twirled me around and dipped me. For a moment, it was like we were the only ones on the dance floor.
The lights brightened, reminding us that we weren’t in fact alone. I looked over and saw Katie in the middle of a conversation with her not-so-favorite aunt.
“I think maid of honor duty calls,” I said, pointing in Katie’s direction. “It looks like she needs saving from an awkward conversation. I’ll see you later?”
“You can count on it, Shamrock,” Bentley said, taking my hand and kissing it lightly.
I turned and walked away stopping to take a quick peek behind my shoulder. Bentley was watching me walk away and as I turned he blew a kiss in my direction. I swiveled on my heels and tossed my hands in the air to capture his kiss in my palm. I held it against my chest for a minute before blowing one back in his direction just as we’d done as kids. I couldn’t help the butterflies that were swirling around inside me. Bentley was affecting me, whether I wanted him to or not.
“Oh my god, you really saved my ass out there,” Katie said as we walked toward the photo booth. “Aunt Genevieve was going on and on about her gout. I swear I threw up in my mouth. I was worried next she was going to tell me about the most effective brand of hemorrhoid cream.”
I snorted from my hysterical laughter. “I—I can’t even,” I giggled as we both entered the booth.