Retreating to their individual corners after their mini boxing match, Jason leaned against the dresser and Preston sat on the edge of his bed. “A wedding’s not your style, Jase. It’s a little too familial for you, isn’t it?”
“For the fiftieth time, she’s a friend. I’m doing her a favor. That’s it. It’s not a date.”
“Uh-huh.” Preston nodded, a smug smile on his smug face. “If you say so, brother.” He leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Yeah, I always panic about my wardrobe the morning of, run to a well-dressed friend, and beg to have one of his best suits specially tailored for me before my non-dates too.”
He glared at Preston. “What’s that saying? He who does not leave his glass house should not throw stones?”
Preston chuckled. “Touché, Jason. Touché.”
*
Knowing that she would have ten million bridesmaid responsibilities the day of the wedding, Victoria suggested Jason meet her in the lobby of the hotel right before the reception. It seemed silly for him to sit by himself at the wedding of two people he’d never met while she stood at the front of the church, and Jason certainly hadn’t objected. But as she searched the lobby for any sign of him, she wondered if maybe he’d decided even attending just the reception with her was above and beyond the call of duty.
She checked the clock behind the checkin desk. Five fifteen. He was fifteen minutes late, and Victoria would be needed any minute when they announced the wedding party. She couldn’t wait around for him all evening.
In a nod to times past, the relatively modern hotel had a grand staircase that led up to one of the larger ballrooms—the one where Tony and Camille’s reception was being held.
She started up the stairs, figuring she could stand on the balcony and keep an eye out for Jason, and at the same time be accessible if she was called upon for wedding party detail.
Tapping the stems of her ribbon-wrapped bouquet on the balcony railing, Victoria fought a wave of disappointment. She’d really been looking forward to this. Silly because it wasn’t a real date, but still, she and Jason probably would’ve had a great time. Beginning to turn away from the railing, she stopped short when she caught a blur of motion at the hotel’s entrance. Jason jogged into the hotel, his gaze doing a quick scan of the lobby. Victoria’s breath caught at the sight of him in a dark gray suit with the periwinkle tie she’d given him. He pulled at one of the cuffs of his shirt until it peeked out from his suit jacket sleeve.
Snapping out of her momentary daze, she headed for the stairs. Thankful for the low-heeled, silver sandals that allowed her to walk quickly down the staircase without breaking her neck, she hurried to meet Jason.
Not seeing her, he ran a hand through his hair and appeared to curse under his breath before heading to the front desk. The words Russo wedding floated up to her and the front desk clerk pointed to the staircase that Victoria was already halfway down. Jason nodded his thanks and started toward the stairs but froze when he finally saw her.
Victoria knew she looked passably good. The bridesmaid dress was surprisingly flattering and showed off her best features—her legs—while at the same time deemphasizing her least pleasing feature—her flat chest. But seeing Jason’s eyes widen and his jaw go slack almost had Victoria believing she was truly something to behold.
The look in his eyes—it was like being seen, really seen as a woman, for the very first time.
“Victoria,” he said softly. “You look…amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks stretched from the wide smile she couldn’t hold back, even though she intended to reprimand him. “You’re late, Meadows.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Wardrobe malfunction.”
She stopped on the stairs as he started up toward her. “Couldn’t tie that tie, huh?”
He reached the step where she stood, and unable to resist touching him in some small way, she straightened his perfectly tied tie.
“Something like that,” he said with a grin. He offered her his arm and nodded toward the ballroom. “Shall we?”
She fit her hand into the crook of his elbow and felt the hard ripple of muscle beneath her fingertips. “I suppose we must.”
They started up the steps, Jason still looking at her. “Don’t sound so excited.”
“Just you wait. You’ll see how torturous a Russo family event can be.” She glanced at Jason, smiling. “My mother’s seated you next to my great aunt Sophie.”
They arrived at the top of the stairs and paused just outside the ballroom. “Aunt Sophie? She sounds perfectly harmless.”
Victoria laughed. “Of course she does. You haven’t met her yet.”
“Vic! There you are!” Tony and Graham, his best man, came around the corner with the rest of the wedding party trailing behind them. “Camille and I just finished our outdoor pictures, and the DJ’s going to announce the wedding party any second now.” Tony turned his attention to Jason. “You must be Vic’s friend, Jason. I’m her brother, Tony.”
Jason shook Tony’s extended hand. “Good to meet you. And congratulations.”
Tony glanced back at the bridal party, chattering and laughing as they waited to enter the reception, and he motioned to his new wife, urging her forward. Sliding his arm around her waist, he smiled down at Camille. “This is my wife, Camille Russo.”
Jason shook hands with Camille, and Victoria caught the approving grin the bride sent her way.
“Nice to meet you, Camille,” Jason said. “And congratulations to you too.”
“Thank you, Jason. It’s great to finally meet you in person. I almost feel like I’m meeting someone famous.”
Jason grinned, but it looked a bit forced. Victoria knew he was tired of the attention that picture had brought. “Everyone gets their fifteen minutes, I suppose,” he said, politely.
Camille began introducing Jason to the rest of the wedding party, and Victoria slipped her hand from his arm to allow him to meet everyone. It was ridiculous how much letting go of him felt like a loss. All this empty space next to her instead of his warm presence. But thoughts like those were exactly the kind of thoughts that would get her into trouble. Possessive thoughts. Yearning thoughts. Obsessive thoughts. The kind of thoughts she’d spent on Graham for years and years with no return on her investment.
“So, Vic…” Graham pulled her to the side. “What are we doing for this grand entrance? Best Man. Maid of Honor. No pressure, but we’re the couple just before the main event. It has to be good to get the guests all psyched up.”
Victoria smiled, her attention on Jason unsuccessfully trying to deflect the advances of three man-hungry, single bridesmaids. Barbie was gushing over his suit, and three champagnes—at Victoria’s last tally—into her evening, the plastic-looking blonde was bold enough to squeeze Jason’s bicep in admiration. “You look like you work out.”
Oh, please. It was all Victoria could do not to laugh out loud. Particularly when Jason darted her a look that very clearly said, Help! She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He answered by narrowing his eyes accusingly at her. At which point, she did laugh.
“Vic,” Graham snapped his fingers to get her attention.
More than a little annoyed to be snapped at like a dog, she turned back to him. “What?”
“What are we doing? When the DJ calls our name? How are we walking in?”
Distracted again, she winked at Jason who was trying to back away from Barbie without being obvious. “I imagine we’ll put one foot in front of the other. And repeat until we arrive at the head table.”
“Come on. You know what I mean. Beth Ann and your brother Alex are doing that walk from The Monkeys opening theme song.”
Ah, that’s right. She’d been waiting all day for someone to say Barbie’s name so she could remember it. Beth Ann. She made a mental note. Tall, inappropriately flirty blonde chick. Beth Ann. Not Barbie. “That’s a little dated isn’t it?”
“Exactly. We can come up with somethin
g better than that.”
“I don’t know, Graham. Can’t we just walk in and wave and smile?”
“What? You mean like a princess wave?” He experimented with a controlled, queen-like wave. “That’s a chick thing. But I guess that’s what makes it funny if I do it, right?” He nodded his head. “That could work, I guess.”
She sighed, not really caring what they did when they walked in. No one would be looking at them anyway. This day belonged to Camille and Tony, and at the end of the day, no one cared what cutesy little thing the wedding party did while walking into the reception. But then, Graham always had been a little too focused on what other people thought. Always trying to be Mr. Popular. The benefit of such a trait was that he worked hard to please people. He was warm and kind and—ninety percent of the time—genuine. The downside was the ten percent of the time when he was trying too hard.
“Whatever you want to do, Graham.”
Jason waved from the place card table, holding up his name card and pointing to the ballroom to let her know he was heading inside. She nodded and watched him dramatically step to one side to skirt past Barb—Beth Ann unnoticed on his way to the door.
“What’s so funny?” Graham asked.
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“Just now. You were giggling. What’s so funny?”
It would be rude not to let Graham in on the joke, but there was something rather precious about having a private communication with Jason—a joke that hadn’t even needed words—that made Victoria want to keep her silence.
“Oh, it was nothing.” She took Graham’s arm and gave him a friendly smile. “Let’s get lined up for this princess wave, shall we?”
Chapter 11
Aunt Sophie was too innocuous a name for a woman as intense as Victoria’s aunt.
Jason didn’t have an aunt of his own for a basis of comparison, but Hollywood led him to believe aunts were lovable, affable creatures full of affection.
Not filterless propagators of the wedding inquisition.
He hadn’t been seated at the table ten seconds before the questions started. And Aunt Sophie didn’t pussyfoot around. There was no hello, how are you?
Nope. Not with Aunt Has-no-filter.
She parked her oxygen tank next to his chair and started with “What are your intentions toward my great-niece, Victoria?” And just in case he misinterpreted what she met by intentions, she’d added, “Will you be staying in her hotel room tonight? You know she’s rented one, don’t you? I thought that was a little fast, but then my sister let her son do whatever he wanted, and now look what’s happened. He has a daughter who does whatever she wants too.”
Confident that she didn’t actually expect him to answer the original question once she derailed into criticisms over Victoria’s upbringing, Jason didn’t respond save for one small nod of acknowledgement.
“So will you?” she asked, adjusting the cannulas in her nose that fed her oxygen.
“Will I what?” Jason asked.
“Be staying in her hotel room tonight?”
“Uh…” The images that question brought to mind were more than a little distracting. It didn’t take much encouragement for his brain to recall the memory of Victoria descending those steps wearing a barely knee-length dress that had nearly knocked the breath out of his chest. Her legs…Her legs were nothing less than a work of art, sculpted by the divine creator himself. Toned and tanned and totally touchable.
She wore silver sandals with straps that went halfway up her shins. Surely they would’ve look ridiculous on anyone else, but on her, they drew attention to her muscled calves. And her short blond-streaked hair had a little more lift than usual. Probably some miracle product from having her hair done that day, but it brought the focus to her big brown eyes and that killer smile. She was a modern-day Venus de Milo.
No, that comparison was too cliché. Victoria was an original work of art. The nickname he’d given her fit her perfectly. Toria was completely unique. Just like her.
And now her aunt was asking if he’d be spending the night in her hotel room. His little captain had an answer for that. A resounding hell yes, but thankfully the brain in his head decided to engage as well. “No ma’am. I’ll be going home this evening.”
“Hmm.” Aunt Sophie looked him up and down. “I’m not sure if I’m glad to hear that or disappointed.”
That answer got a surprised laugh out of him.
“She thinks she’s been sly about it, but it’s no secret she’s had a crush on her brother’s best friend for years. I never could picture those two together though. Not a good fit if you ask me.”
With no idea what in God’s green earth propelled him to ask, Jason said, “Why’s that?”
“From the day that girl was born, she marched to her own drum. Actually, I’m not even sure it was a drum. Knowing her it was saxophone or something. Always had to be different, that one.”
Jason didn’t know Sophie well, but he’d venture to say the soft look that crossed her face while talking about Victoria was a rare event indeed.
“You might think because she comes from a family of police and firefighters that she just fell right in line when she became a paramedic. But you’d be wrong. You see, Russos think all those professions are fine for men, but nobody wanted that for Victoria. And to join the army first? Oh, I thought her father was going to have an apoplexy.” This thought appeared to make Sophie almost gleeful.
“But she did it anyway. Signed those papers and didn’t tell her parents until after it was over and done with.” She leaned closer to Jason. “You see, of all my relatives, Vicki’s the most like me. Strong. Independent. And that Graham she liked so much? Well, that was never going to work out.”
“And why’s that?” Jason asked again, unable to stop himself.
“Because he’s just like my ex-husband.”
He laughed. This Sophie, she was a firecracker all right.
Dinner was served and Sophie spent the entire meal giving Jason her opinions on anything and everything. She talked so much, he half expected her to need a reserve tank of oxygen. The others at the table engaged in their own conversations, all of them looking relieved that Jason was catching the brunt of Sophie’s chattiness. It was as if they’d unanimously decided to let him be the one to take one for the team.
Occasionally, he found his gaze wandering to the head table. But it wasn’t the bride who snagged his attention. It was the Maid of Honor seated next to her. Victoria always seemed to sense the moment he looked her way, and she’d smile and raise her glass in a toast. Or make a funny face, going crossed eyed while the groomsman next to her talked and talked and talked. He couldn’t help smiling at her antics even as Sophie discussed how Americans should be more open to the concept of communism.
Graham was seated next to the groom and separated from Victoria by the newlyweds. Jason couldn’t help wondering if the seating arrangement disappointed her. From meeting Tony, he knew that she’d told everyone he was her friend. Seemed she wanted to make it clear that they weren’t a couple. She’d said as much the day she brought the tie to his house, and it made sense. If Graham was the object of her affection, then she wouldn’t want him thinking she was unavailable.
Is that why she’d reserved a room? In case something happened between her and Graham?
Jason clenched the stem of his water goblet, surprised it didn’t break from the pressure. It shouldn’t bother him—he had no claim on Victoria, didn’t even want to make a claim. But dammit, the thought of her with that princess-waving tool really chafed.
Okay, that wasn’t fair. Graham was a perfectly good guy.
Jason just didn’t like him.
The DJ got everyone’s attention and started the bride and groom off on their first dance. The lights had been dimmed, but he could still see Victoria watching Tony and Camille from her spot at the head table. The words to Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud filled the hall while the couple swayed and whispered to one another.
How two people could appear to be sharing something so private while on display for everyone to see, he didn’t know but Tony and Camille definitely did.
He glanced at Victoria again during the mother-son dance and caught her swiping her fingers under her eye as she watched her brother whisper something to his mother that had Mrs. Russo tearing up.
“You should ask Vicki to dance,” Aunt Sophie said.
“I’m sure I will.”
“Well, there’s no time like the present, kid. We’re not getting any younger here.”
“I’m pretty sure the floor is reserved for the groom and his mother at the moment.”
“So? Let them have the floor. You don’t need to be on the dance floor. Dance on the sidelines.”
Looking back at the head table, he watched Victoria sip her champagne, swaying to the music in her chair. For a split second he imagined walking over to her, holding out his hand, pulling her up from her chair and holding her in the shadows while they moved with the music.
He cleared his throat.
“Well?” Sophie practically pushed him out of his chair. That broad was much stronger than she looked.
“All right, all right. I’m going.” He smiled at Sophie, figuring it was best to placate the old lady before she made a scene.
Halfway to the head table, the pace of the music picked up considerably, and the DJ called the wedding party to the floor.
Opportunity lost, Jason watch Graham drag Victoria to the dance floor. Not wanting to return to his table and a lecture from Sophie, he found a spot of the wall that looked like it needed holding up. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched the wedding party rock out to that We Are Family song. And if his jaw started to hurt from clenching it too tight watching Graham twirl Victoria around the dance floor, he tried not to overthink it.
He wandered over to the bar for an ice water just to have something to do, and when he checked the dance floor again, a new groomsman had cut in to dance with Victoria. The guy sure wasn’t going to be passing any field sobriety tests any time soon either with the way he stumbled all over the dance floor.
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