by Harlow James
* * *
In all of my travels, I have to say I’ve never been to Aruba and part of me is kicking myself for not taking the time to do so. What a charming place—small, but still bustling, tropical and yet vast in the landscape including desert, volcanic rock, and turquoise water that is utterly stunning. But I never would have come here if it weren’t for one of my best friends getting married, which makes the trip that much more meaningful.
Wes and Shayla are radiant standing across from each other exchanging their wedding vows. And for a second, a twinge of jealousy stings in my chest, but then I push that feeling to the side.
I don’t need a woman to make me happy. I don’t need someone else to worry about. The more people I have to worry about on top of my job, the more stressed I become.
I clear my throat, adjust my stance with my hands clasped in front of me, and watch one of my best friends kiss his bride while reminding myself that I like my life the way it is and I have my reasons for remaining single.
But then there’s Chloe—beautiful, unapologetically honest Chloe.
It’s been eight months since I met her in Vegas and have seen her in person. And watching her walk down the aisle just moments ago reminded me of that connection I felt with her that night.
And it’s extremely unnerving. To be honest, Chloe scared me a bit because she had me contemplating, even for just the briefest moment, throwing my rules to the wayside.
And that could be dangerous.
Chloe looks stunning in her bridesmaid dress, the teal and yellow combination bringing out the flecks of yellow in her otherwise dark green eyes. And her wild, curly hair is flowing freely in the breeze, except for the small clip holding a portion of it back on the side of her head.
But her smile and the emotion in her eyes is what’s holding me captive as she watches her best friend marry my best friend. It’s such a contrast to the bold woman I met all those months ago, the one who came right out and told me she wanted my dick for the night, a statement I’ve never heard out loud except for maybe during sex in my thirty-one years surprisingly.
And that’s the problem. She’s unpredictable, a hurricane of words and beauty that appeared in my restaurant that night and reappeared in my mind from time to time since then.
With most hurricanes you get a warning, time to prepare and come up with a plan of how to escape their destruction.
But nothing could have prepared me for hurricane Chloe and how instantly attracted to her I was.
Our small group of friends and the few guests that made the trip ring out in applause as the minister introduces Wes and Shayla as husband and wife for the first time, and then we file out behind them down the aisle, a circumstance that has me offering up my elbow to Waverly just how we practiced last night.
“How’s it going, Silas?” she asks with a gleeful smile.
“Ready for a stiff drink and some food,” I reply honestly.
“Same. My stomach was growling during the ceremony. I hope no one could hear.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I didn’t on the other side of the aisle, so I think you’re good.”
We turn and make our way to the rest of our group waiting at the end of the sidewalk. “Well, here’s to a great night. Make sure to save a dance for Chloe,” she teases and then sashays over to Hayes who’s waiting with open arms for her.
Great. Even the girls are in on pressuring me to interact with Chloe now.
I take a moment to observe Hayes and Waverly’s exchanges —how he leans down to kiss her softly, the gleam in his eye that I’ve never seen before until he started looking at her differently, the possessive way he grips her waist while wrapping her up in his arms.
I’ve never felt that way about a woman before. I’ve never allowed myself to. I got close with my ex, but that relationship wasn’t meant to be. And now I know better than to think I could have that again.
Like the ends of a magnet, my eyes find Chloe just as her line of sight focuses on me too. Ever since we saw each other again yesterday, there have been several instances when as soon as I look in her direction, she stares right back, or vice versa. But in the blink of an eye she shifts her gaze away to Wes and Shayla, who are now speaking with the photographer.
Hmmm, seems she didn’t want to be caught staring at me again.
Our group travels out to the sand of the beach owned by the hotel as we prepare to take the wedding photos. The six of us smile, pose, and laugh through awkward poses and romantic moments between Wes and Shayla. During one shot, the photographer has me standing right next to Chloe since he positioned Hayes and Waverly next to each other, seeing as how we’re the only members of the bridal party. I take this opportunity to break the silence with her.
“Hello, Chloe.”
She flicks her eyes over to me, drops them down my torso for a few seconds, then returns them to my eyes and politely smiles. “Oh… hi, Silas.” Damn, that wasn’t a sweet smile or greeting. That was the type of acknowledgment from a woman that instantly informs you that you’re on her shit list.
As if she just now noticed me, even though we saw each other last night at the rehearsal.
As if she’s mad that I’m in her presence.
As if perhaps my denial of her last year has made her a little salty toward me.
“You look beautiful.”
“I know,” she says, keeping her head forward, not bothering to cast her gaze in my direction.
“How have you been?”
“Fantastic. My best friend just got married, and if she’s happy, then I’m happy.” She twists her head to face me once more now, and I can see the saccharine lift of her lips when she says, “And now I’m going to get drunk and have a little fun tonight.”
And then she storms off, shaking her hips as she trudges through the sand. It takes me a moment to realize our entire group is leaving the beach before I hike up my pant legs and follow their lead, shaking my head in bewilderment.
Once we’ve cleaned off our feet, the hotel manager leads us into the private room Shayla and Wes booked for their reception. Since the wedding was small, the reception is too, consisting of just the bride and groom, Hayes and Waverly, Chloe and myself, and Grace, Wes’s housekeeper who is more like family to him.
“I’m nervous. Why am I nervous?” Hayes comes up beside me, leaning in close to whisper in my ear.
“You’re already married so it’s not like she can say no.”
“I know. But what if she thinks I’m stupid, like asking her again and going through this formality is silly.”
I turn to face him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She won’t. Waverly loves you and you’re the one that said she felt like she missed out on the traditional moments because of how you two got married. I think she’ll love it, so stop freaking out.”
Hayes is planning on proposing officially to Waverly during his speech tonight. Wes and Shayla were all for it, but apparently now he’s a little nervous.
He inhales deeply before shaking out his entire body. “You’re right. She loves me.” And then he grins like a Cheshire cat. “The woman fucking loves me, Silas. Me! I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky.” He playfully shoves my shoulder and then marches off, scooping Waverly up in his arms before planting a kiss on her lips.
If you would have told me that Hayes Weston would fall in love one day, I’d have definitely favored the odds it would never happen. But it has. For him, and for Wes, and that twinge of disappointment buries itself in my chest again. That’s just not in the cards for me, though.
Dinner is served and conversation filters around the table. Wes and Shayla are so entranced by one another that they don’t bother saying much to anyone else, sharing whispered thoughts and suggestive stares with each other as we eat. Waverly and Hayes are in their own little bubble as well, which leaves Chloe, Grace, and myself to entertain one another.
“So how are the restaurants, Silas?” Grace asks while diving in for another bite of her lo
bster.
“Doing well, Grace. Busy. I have another one opening in Goleta next month, actually. Construction starts next week, and it will be nice to work close to home for a while.”
“That’s amazing. And how are the girls?”
I see Chloe’s eyes shift in my direction, but she doesn’t say anything. “They’re doing well. Valentina and her husband are trying for baby number two. Bianca is working her way up through the winery. And Mia is causing mischief at UCSB.”
“Those girls are smart and hardworking just like you. You must be proud of your sisters.”
“I am.” I smile and then glance back at Chloe, who’s tilting her head at me. But then she catches herself again and looks away, picking at the food on her plate. Abruptly, she lifts her glass and butter knife, clinking the metal against the glass. Shayla asked her and Hayes to make speeches, even though the celebration is small. And now that I know she’s going to speak, I’m extremely interested in what she has to say.
Chloe stands, clears her throat, and then opens her mouth as the rest of us watch and listen with anticipation. “Shayla, you are the sister I never had. You’re my family, my rock, and my best friend on the planet. We know each other better than anyone else in this world, we’ve been through so many ups and downs in our lives…but now you have Wes. He’s your husband, the man that was meant to put up with your stubborn ass so I don’t have to take on that responsibility anymore,” she says and we all laugh. Leave it to her to speak the truth.
“He is now your family, but I still better be invited to all major holidays or I’ll start showing up randomly without notice.” She winks and I can’t help but smile up at her, appreciating her wit. “I am so happy that you have found the person that will love you unconditionally like I do, but you also get to have sex with, because you and I will never have that kind of relationship and lord knows, you’re a happier person when you get laid.”
Waverly snorts, Hayes shakes his head, and I chuckle in my chair. This woman is something else—so unpredictable, and yet I can’t wait to see what she says next.
“But seriously, I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. And Wes, thank you for showing my friend that there are good men out there, ones who will want every part of you. I’m not sure a man will ever be able to handle me, but I’m glad you’ve given me hope that there could be one. To Wes and Shayla!” she shouts, holding up her glass as we all join in and then take a drink in celebration.
As Chloe returns to her seat, I can’t help but watch her—the softening of her features as she smiles at Shayla and the pride she has after nailing her speech with the same confidence I’ve seen her exhibit before.
Who is this woman really though? And why do I want to know so badly?
I fought my attraction to her months ago, and apparently that was with good reason, because now as I watch her tonight, the need to be near her again is increasing exponentially, and I know that no good can come from this feeling.
Hayes stands next, delivering his speech with ease, and then nailing his proposal to Waverly as well. As I anticipated, she loved it and now the two of them are dancing on the small dance floor in the room beside Wes and Shayla.
Within ten minutes, the two couples are saying their goodbyes, leaving Grace, Chloe and me alone.
“Well, now that all the love birds are turning in for the night, I guess it’s time for me to as well.” Grace leans in for a hug from me. “It was so good to see you, Silas. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
“I’ll try not to, Grace. It was nice to see you too.”
“And I know it’s not really my place, but do me a favor and keep an eye on Chloe, will ya? That girl just screams trouble.”
Don’t I know it, Grace.
“I’ll try.”
With a kiss on my cheek, she strolls away from me, leaving me searching the room for the only other member of the wedding party, but finding her nowhere. I exit the room the reception was in and start walking through the lobby of the hotel, weaving through a small crowd gathered here and there. But it doesn’t take me long to find the woman in the teal and yellow dress to my left, standing at one of the bars in the hotel, tossing back a shot.
“I didn’t know it was time for shots,” I say as I find my place next to her at the bar. She sticks the wedge of lime in between her lips and then bites down while glaring at me.
Spitting out the lime, she reaches for her next shot and then salutes me. “It’s time for the real party to start.” Tossing back the alcohol with ease, she drops her glass on the wooden surface and then bites down on another wedge of lime.
“Tequila?”
“Vodka actually. Tequila and I parted ways a long time ago.”
“So you have a tequila story?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t,” I reply.
She eyes me up and down. “Shame. But you don’t seem like the type to have fun anyway.”
“Why do you say that?” I casually slide onto the stool beside her while keeping my eyes trained on her.
With a tilt of her head, she replies, “Well, I offered you fun in Vegas and you turned it down, and the more I watch you, the more I feel like there’s a stick lodged so far up your ass you’ll need surgery to remove it.”
My eyebrows lift. “Wow. Well, thanks for being honest, but I’d say you’re wrong.” No, she’s not, Silas. She has you pegged accurately, my friend. And she’s right. She did offer you fun in Vegas and you ran away like a coward.
“Fine. Then prove it.” She eyes me suspiciously and then takes a sip of water. At least she knows how to hydrate while tossing back shots. “You’re already two shots behind. Perhaps you need to catch up.”
“I’m not really a shot kind of guy. I was just actually looking for some company.”
She arches her brow at me. “When’s the last time you took a shot, Silas? Or had any fun at all?”
With a heavy sigh, I start to spin one of her empty shot glasses along the bar. “Honestly? I don’t remember.” I cast my gaze her way to find her studying me.
“Then do a shot with me.”
“Like I said, not really my thing.”
She snaps her fingers at the bartender across the bar. “Four more shots please,” she calls out and then turns back to me. “Well, it is tonight.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. That’s the only way I’ll sit here with you. Otherwise, I’m going to find some other attractive man to give my attention to.”
The thought of her talking with some other guy has anger bubbling low in my gut, but I fight like hell to ignore it. I shouldn’t care if she talks to another man, but now that I have her attention, I guess I’d better engage in conversation and play along for the time being.
And that’s all that needs to happen here. We’ll just talk, get to know each other. I can do that. I’m good at that—not leading women on, leaving alone because casual hook-ups just aren’t my thing. Knowing that work awaits me in the morning and having to ask someone to leave after a night in bed is awkward and messes with my routine.
“Fine. One shot. Will that make you happy?”
Her lips slowly spread and her smile has me slightly nervous. “It’s a start.”
* * *
“Fuck,” I groan as I toss back another shot of tequila, losing count of how many I’ve taken at this point. What is it about this alcohol that makes you crazy stupid?
“Whew!” Chloe hollers, shaking her tangled mess of curls as her entire body trembles. “I can’t feel my lips anymore, Silas. Are they still there?” She reaches for my hand and slaps herself in the mouth with it, darting out her tongue to my fingers as my fingertips explore her lips.
And damn, what a mouth it is. Her lips are one of the first things I noticed about her back in Vegas, and the images of them wrapped around my cock were one of the reasons I forced myself away from her that night.
But now my mind is clouded with alcohol and Chloe looks like a mirage in front of m
e—a mystical woman that I’m allowed to have for just one night. Why did I turn her down again? Oh, because I’m a fucking moron.
“Looks like they’re still there to me.” My eyes remain on her mouth as she leans closer to me.
“Good, because I can’t lose my mouth, Silas. It’s one of my best features. It says all the dirty things and does all the dirty things too.”
Fuck me. Why on earth does this woman not have a filter?
“What kind of dirty things?” I ask with no hesitation. I blame that outburst on the tequila too.
She casts me a side-eye glance. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Normally you’d never hesitate to tell me what you’re thinking, but now you hold back?”
“You don’t deserve to know.” Reaching for her water, she closes her lips around her straw and sucks, conjuring other sucking images in my mind.
“I’m stupid,” I say, letting the alcohol take over.
“Yes, I’m aware.”
And her response makes me laugh. “I never should have turned you down.”
“Right again,” she croons playfully, bopping me on the nose. “I’m a good fucking time, Silas.”
“Yeah you are. And I’m drunk,” I slur.
“Me too.” Chloe sways on her stool to the music playing overhead while placing her glass back on the bar.
I reach out and grip her hip, pulling her off her seat and right in between my legs. “What if I told you that I’m not too drunk to know that I want you?”
She rests her hands on my shoulders and then smiles slightly. “Keep talking.”
“What if I told you that you’ve popped up in my mind many times since that night and that walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done?” What are you doing, Silas? You’re playing with fire.
“Harder than your dick is right now?”
“Definitely not.” I reach up and tuck a strand of her natural curls behind her ear as I drop my eyes down to her lips. “You’re right, Chloe. I don’t have fun. And maybe that’s exactly what we both need tonight.”