by C. J. Lake
“After your run-in at Polar, maybe he was figuring something would happen with you guys.”
“But it can’t happen, Tor. This wedding tonight is actually happening; there’s no way back from it.” While Torie laid out some makeup cases and an eye-lash curler, Cady continued: “I've thought a lot about this whole Mick situation. Our hormones just have to take a backseat. Hey, I’ve avoided him this long.”
Though she tried to sound proud of this accomplishment, secretly, she was eager to see Mick tonight. Her belly had been stirred up all day, fluttering nervously at the idea of coming face-to-face with him after two weeks of no contact.
“I just have to be smart,” she went on, partly trying to convince herself, “it's not like I'm an animal and I can't control myself, right?” As Torie dragged a chair over in front of the mirror, Cady prattled on, “Okay, well, I suppose technically I am an animal...but you know what I mean.”
“Take a seat, please,” Torie said, spritzing the brush with a berry-scented mist.
“I just have to stay strong,” Cady finished as she plopped down in the chair.
Torie smiled a little too sweetly. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
~
The next few hours spun past in a blur.
After Torie was done with Cady's hair and makeup, Cady slipped into her dress. The only thing Linda asked was that her wedding party wear something “black and elegant,” so Cady had borrowed a form-fitting, satin dress from Torie's closet. (It was surely less form-fitting on Torie, who was slimmer than her, but it still seemed like the best choice on such short notice).
Then she'd gone downstairs, met the other bridesmaids—two long-time friends of Linda's—as well as the photographer, Ryan, who assembled the wedding party for pre-ceremony photographs.
And then the wedding happened. It took place in the same room as the reception to follow, the one with a view of the expansive back patio of the hotel and the golden placard on the door that read: “Northeast Banquet Room C.” On the far left side when you entered the room, four rows of chairs had been set up, with the officiant, Linda, and Brandall standing front-and-center (and on either side of them, the few members of their wedding party).
There Cady stood, almost not believing it as she watched Linda and Brandall take hands, while Preeti's mother played Canon in D on her flute. During the song, Cady remembered turning her head toward Rex. She exchanged a knowing, resigned look with her brother, who stood stiffly beside their dad as the best man.
Then the vows were exchanged; fortunately, they were short and dignified, no excess and nothing sappy. All at once, there were the words “I now pronounce you...” Then the room was clapping. As the claps petered out, people began to scatter, soon wandering around the tables in search of their names on place-cards.
While watching the other guests disburse, Cady released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She looked around, for the first time really absorbing the whole scene. She had to give Linda props for pulling this event together so quickly and cleverly skirting a lot of wedding hassles—for instance, Linda hadn't had to worry about decorations, as the hotel was already decorated beautifully for Christmas. She had arranged for guests to order straight off the restaurant menu, so she hadn't had to work with a caterer or figure out people's meal selections ahead of time.
As for booking a wedding photographer on such short notice, Linda had hired her boss's nephew, Ryan, instead. A recent college grad, Ryan Martin had more of an amateur's interest in photography, but he was affable and available.
Even the music tonight was accomplished easily. Instead of scrambling to book a DJ or band, Linda chose one of the preset music compilations available to rent from the hotel. The event coordinator assured Linda that the music—which was thankfully a collection of contemporary songs, not oldies—would stream through the banquet room's speaker for the duration of the reception.
“Smile!”
Ryan Martin's voice startled Cady now—though perhaps it shouldn't have considering how incessantly the guy kept appearing with his camera. It seemed like he'd been snapping photos of her all evening. He was very personable, though, so she would feel like a bitch if she told him it was enough already.
They'd chatted earlier, before the ceremony, and she'd learned that he was here more as a favor than a desire to get a photography career off the ground. Apparently he'd graduated from Lafayette last year with a degree in marketing and was still looking for a permanent job. Because of Ryan’s warm, easygoing vibe, Cady couldn't tell if he had a little crush on her or was just the gregarious type, relieved to find someone here around his age.
“Hi, Ryan,” she said now, mostly faking a smile, as a he snapped a quick candid and let his camera, which was secured around his neck by a thick leather strap, drop back onto his chest. “Listen, Linda is not going to be happy if she gets her wedding photos and they're all of me, okay?” she added, trying to give him the hint.
“Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “I already got a ton of the bride and groom, don't worry—and everyone else here, too, I swear. But, hey, Linda told me to snap random photos to capture the whole night.” With a boyish grin, he shrugged. “My camera lens seems to be drawn to you—which means you're very photogenic.”
“Really?” Cady said skeptically.
“Honestly,” Ryan promised, lifting his camera and angling it toward the couple at Table 4. After a few clicks, he turned back to Cady. “The camera knows,” he stated.
Regardless of Ryan's friendly nature, Cady was impatiently looking for an escape route. “I think I'll go sit,” she blurted, feeling a bit awkward about her abruptness, but nevertheless gave him a little wave and walked away. She was getting hungry anyway, so she wanted to be sure she was at her table when the wait staff entered the banquet room to take dinner orders.
She would love a cocktail, too, but considering that she'd hardly eaten today—her nervous stomach had no appetite—she couldn't risk getting even a little bit tipsy. Not with Mick sitting just across the room, looking unbearably handsome in his jacket and tie, with that unreadable, almost disaffected expression on his face.
Again, she stole a glimpse of him, which she'd been doing all night. Of course she tried to be covert about it. Probably he hadn't even noticed her glances; every time Cady looked his way, Mick was paying no attention to her. In fact, they’d only caught eye contact once, right before the ceremony began; he'd given her a brief nod and that was it.
Now Cady headed toward her table. On the way, she sucked in a breath, trying to force Mick out of her mind, which she'd been struggling with all night. She'd never seen him so cleaned up as he was tonight, his dark hair neatly in place, his face clean-shaven. He still had that smolder in his eyes, and his usual confident, self-assured posture.
It seemed all the “progress” she'd made in terms of Mick over the last two weeks was evaporating. Willfully, she reminded herself: this was purely physical. Yes, he looked breathtakingly hot right now.
He was also a charming guy, who’d stood on the sidewalk outside of Polar and very endearingly told her he liked her...
Just stop, she told herself. Because there was no future possible with him. Not even a present, really. He was officially her stepbrother now—they were in the same freaking family!—so it wasn't like they could actually be together.
Sure, they could hook up secretly, but for how long? What if he got bored of it before she did? Bored of her?
How could she stand it if Mick blew her off, and then she had to face him for as long as their parents' marriage lasted, which given how upside-down everything was at the moment, could be the next forty years?
Just then Rex and Preeti crossed her line of vision, walking into the open center of the room, where other couples were dancing. Seeing how committed they were to each other made Cady’s heart ache for that partner. She suddenly thought about Wes. If Wes hasn’t fallen for another girl, would he be here with her now?
Her gaze roved ov
er to Mick again. From what she'd observed of him, all evening he'd been making occasional small talk with people, but mostly keeping to himself. She longed to go over to him, to talk to him again. He wasn't making any moves toward her and she couldn't blame him.
This is ridiculous, Cady realized. Were they going to go through this whole night and act like they didn't know each other at all? As though they had never even met? Surely, Cady could go and say a pleasant hello to him, which would be the normal thing to do. Breaking the ice would be the best way to make sure things weren't awkward between them going forward.
With that rationalization in place, Cady inhaled a sharp breath as her pulse kicked up and her belly started fluttering again, and she began walking toward Mick's table.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Mick began rapping his fingers on the table, not paying Cady any attention even though he was potently aware that she was walking toward his table. His chest drew tight as she came closer.
Though he'd been ignoring her, it hadn't escaped his notice how sexy she looked in that dress. He'd never seen Cady dressed up, but now, tonight, black satin wrapped amazingly around her body, pulling snugly over her cute ass...
It was also pissing him off to no end that the wedding photographer was hanging around her all night with his tongue out.
“Hello,” Cady said when she reached Mick's table.
Mick tossed her what he hoped was a casual, somewhat disinterested glance. “Hey,” he said.
She paused for second, before taking a seat. There were two people across the table talking to each other, but the chair to Mick's left was vacant at the moment. “Well...” she began, letting her voice trail off. He supposed he should do something to fill the silence, but he didn't. Finally she went with: “I guess we got through it, huh?”
“What's that?”
“The wedding,” she stated.
“Right,” he nodded in agreement, glancing idly around the room. “Looks like they really did it.”
“Yep. They seem happy,” she mentioned.
“Yeah.”
“Are you, uh, staying at the hotel?”
Mick nodded. “You?”
“Yes, I'm in room 307.” That got his attention. Why would she bother telling him that? It almost sounded like an invitation.
Except, Mick reminded himself, this was Cady. Which meant he was better off not reading anything into her words. She was probably just babbling. Still...he gave her his room number, too, in case she wanted to know. “321.”
Soon she fell quiet and Mick followed suit, absently drumming his fingers on the table again.
Damn, he honestly didn't know why he was being so sullen with her. It wasn't even like him—he should be friendly, treat her as politely as he would any other girl—but Cady had this way of twisting him up, of tormenting him without even trying.
Why the hell had she gone dark on him? Mick thought he had gained some ground with her outside of Polar, but after that night, she'd disappeared on him.
The obvious answer: she just wasn't interested. Attracted, maybe—but not interested.
“Mick, I...”
When she hesitated, seeming flustered, his eyes traveled over, meeting hers. Intently, he waited for what she had to say.
“I, um, just wanted to come over and say hello,” she finished.
That was it?
“All right, hello,” he said. Then motioned with his chin toward the front section of the room where she had just come from and said, “But I don't want to keep you from your photo shoot over there.”
At that, Cady pinched her face, confused. “What...?” As soon as she angled her head to see what Mick was looking at, she gave a soft laugh. “Oh, you mean Ryan?”
“I don't know. I'm not on a first name basis with the photographer,” he remarked, as jealousy gnawed at his gut.
“He's really sweet,” Cady commented. “But, yeah, he is kind of trigger-happy with that thing.”
“Apparently,” Mick agreed.
“He claims that I'm very photogenic,” she explained—which irritated Mick more.
“Really,” he said blandly. “You know that he's used that line on everyone here, right?”
She raised her brows at that. “Really? So he used it on you, too?”
Impatiently, Mick said, “I meant chicks, obviously.”
Now Cady challenged him, with a tilt of her head. “And how do you know what he's said to anyone? You haven't left that seat all night.”
With a shrug, Mick maintained, “It's common sense. Obviously that would be a standard photographer pick-up line.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Besides...” Now Mick pierced her with an assessing gaze. “How do you know I haven't left this seat all night?”
When Cady froze, flustered for a second, Mick knew she'd been busted—and he felt a rush of adrenaline. So she'd been watching him, too.
Just then his phone buzzed. When Mick pulled it out, he saw a text from his dad. He deliberately held the phone at an angle that made it impossible for Cady to see the screen. Then he took his time reading the message.
“Who was that?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant as Mick pocketed the phone again. “Juliana?”
He held back a smile, kept his face blank. “Nope. A different girl.”
“I’m surprised you can keep all of them straight,” she said sarcastically.
“Me, too.”
That annoyed her, he could tell. Her shoulders stiffened a bit as she said, “I sense that you're mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” Mick replied casually. “Believe me, I wouldn't waste my energy being mad.”
“Really? Because—”
“Smile!”
What the fuck—? Annoyed, Mick looked over and saw the goddamn photographer sidling up to the table with his camera poised in the air. Immediately, Mick felt territorial—angry. Did this motherfucker honestly think he was going to hit on Cady all night?
“Oh, my—again?” Cady told him, amicably enough, but Mick could tell that she wasn't thrilled either by Ryan's appearing in front of her.
“I'm still working the room, you know I'm on the clock,” he explained offhandedly and snapped a photo of the centerpiece on the table, before angling his camera toward Cady and Mick.
“Ryan, honestly, I'm sure you have more than enough pictures of me by now,” Cady said.
“Seriously, buddy,” Mick warned, then glared at him. “It's getting old.”
“Oh—sorry, man, I—I didn't realize—are you two—?”
Ignoring him, Mick said, “Let's dance,” and took Cady's hand.
She could let go if she wanted. She could say no and stay planted in her chair.
But she didn't.
Instead, relief swelled in his chest as Cady tightened her fingers around his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.
Chapter Thirty
When Mick led her to a spot on the edge of the dance floor, and slipped one warm hand on her back, Cady already knew she was in over her head. She felt the heat from his palm seeping through the satin of her dress, sending little shivers of excitement through her body. She placed her free hand on his shoulder and tried not to dwell on how solid and strong it felt. His other hand still clasped hers, as they began to move to the music, which had shifted to a slower, sexier-sounding song.
Even though they were dancing at an appropriate distance, that didn't change the fact that he was holding her in his arms, that she was finally touching him, that the air between them was rapidly warming up, igniting every sexual impulse in her.
“Poor Ryan,” she tsked, trying to keep the mood light so the dance wouldn't become too erotically charged. “He was in the middle of a sentence.”
“Poor Ryan, my ass,” Mick muttered.
“I think he was scared of you.”
“Good, he should be.” When she raised her eyebrows at that, he said, “Hey, I'm just looking out for you. There’s a difference between hitting on
a girl and being a clinger.”
“He was getting a little smothering,” Cady admitted.
“See? I did you a favor,” Mick said.
When she dropped her eyes from his, they fell quiet for a moment as they danced. Cady tried not to focus on the warmth of Mick's hands, the heat of his body, how he held her firmly and securely, the way a boyfriend would—and for a dreamy moment she imagined Mick as her boyfriend.
Now he broke the silence, speaking in a more intimate tone. “You know, if you don't want to get hit on, maybe you should have brought a date.”
Steadying her breath, Cady tried not to feel flustered by the effect Mick's deep, almost rough voice had on her, the way it raked over her nerve endings and excited her on a purely animal level. “What about you?” she questioned, keeping her tone glib. “Where's your date?”
Mick surprised her by tightening his hold on her, which pulled her closer and nudged her lower body almost flush against his. “Right here,” he said huskily, sending a tremor through her.
Her breath suddenly felt trapped in her throat, as the implication of Mick's words sank in, and Cady's mind couldn't seem to overcome her body. With her heart hammering against her ribs, more heat spread through her, pulsing lower. Her face flushed with excitement as she surrendered for a few moments to this attraction, allowing Mick to hold her possessively and way too close. Even letting her head rest on him as they danced and the air between them pulled tight with sexual tension.
Mick's chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, making her think that he felt it, too. She shut her eyes for a moment as their hands broke and her arms coiled around his neck. They were close enough that if she tipped her face up and he leaned down just a fraction, he could catch her mouth with his. Now Mick sighed and Cady felt his breath on her hair, which only aroused her more. It was unfathomable how thickly the fog seemed to entangle them. A hot, pounding pressure thrummed between her legs, making her blush harder. Futilely, she squeezed her muscles tight to calm her lustful response, but it only made her throb more.