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When I finally arrive for the Warner-Acosta wedding, I worry for a split second that things might be awkward between me and Lacey. But when I lay eyes on her, I know it’s going to be way, way worse than awkward.It’s going to be torture.
Brute and I had to wear tuxes, but I put no thought whatsoever into what that meant for Lacey. When I see her, her discreet radio clipped to the dramatic low back of her dress, I know for a fact that bride’s going to feel like shit when she walks down the aisle. Poor woman. Nobody wants to be outdone on their wedding date. And there ain’t no way anybody’s going to be looking at the bride while Lacey’s in the room.
When I first see her walking into the chapel, I can tell it’s her from the rear. And no, it’s not the radio that gives it away. I’d recognize that perfect ass anywhere, and the way it’s tightly sheathed in the skin-hugging lavender gown...
Fuck.
I should have asked that seamstress to give me a little extra room in the crotch.
The sun has begun to set as the guests gather for the ceremony. Brute is standing by the pond, yawning into his fist and tugging on the collar of his expensive-ass shirt. I nod at him and walk up to a golf cart that’s just pulling up to the white stucco chapel.
Lacey comes out onto the path, makes sure some old ladies get out of their seats okay, then she crosses the lawn to meet me. Her lips are vibrant red and her makeup is sultry, her brown eyes glittering under sparkling lids. I hear harp music playing, and for a second, I feel weirdly out of place.
My gut tightens as I imagine she’s going to tell me off. She’ll say last night was an accident. That it can never happen again. That she’s my boss, and all the other shit I’ve been telling myself since I got home last night and took off the dress shirt that still smells like her pussy.
“Evening.” I firm my lips and try to will my body to act professionally.
“Eagle.” Lacey meets me eyes and lifts her chin. “That tuxedo...” She smooths one shoulder of the jacket down, although I’m not sure it needs it. Then she nods. “You look as handsome as ever.”
Well, that’s unexpected. I don’t smile but study her face as I return the compliment. “You do too,” I say cautiously.“As beautiful as always.”
She holds up one finger to me and taps the button on her radio. “Mmmm-hmm,” she says to whoever has called her. “I’ll be right in.” Then she turns her attention back to me. “Eagle, can I ask you a question.”
“Yeah,” I say, braced for anything.
She’s so tall in her heels, when she leans close, her face almost reaches my ear. “Would you consider letting me take you home with me tonight? After the wedding, I mean.” She leans back and smiles, squaring her shoulders. “If we’re going to have a repeat of last night, I do not intend on ruining a Tom Ford tuxedo.”
Something tight begins to unwind low in my gut. “A repeat?” I echo. “Your place?”
Around us the guests are piling into the chapel, and I hear the sweet sounds of some harp music. The evening breeze blows a lock of hair over Lacey’s cheek, and I lift my hand to push it behind her ear. “On one condition,” I tell her. “Save me one dance before we leave.”
“I’m yours big man.”
