Iwas never the kind of girl who cried at weddings, but even I had to admit that watching Liam, whom I’d known since we were in grade school, marry the woman who had changed his life made me a little misty-eyed. The way they looked at each as they spoke those familiar words ... a lump rose in my throat, and I wondered what it would be like to have someone look at me that way—as though I was his whole world.
Next to me, my mom reached for my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. My dad had gotten hung up with some project for a museum in England, and so both generations of Simmons women were flying solo tonight. I was grateful for her company, even as it felt a little ridiculous to be attending a wedding with my mother as my date.
And then there was the Vincent factor. Giff had let it slip nonchalantly—though I didn’t think it was quite as innocent as he pretended—that Vincent wasn’t bringing a date to the wedding. Although I hadn’t admitted it even to myself, that nugget of information had taken off the pressure I’d felt to find a plus-one. I’d spent the past week sternly lecturing myself about how to act when I saw him again.
I couldn’t be too excited—I had to play it cool. But I couldn’t be too aloof, or he’d think I was mad about something to do with our night together—that I’d had second thoughts about the whole no-strings aspect. To my own mortification, I practiced the smile I wanted to wear when he saw me the first time. It had to saywhat a great time we hadwithout veering intolet’s do it againterritory.
Because if there was one thing I knew for sure, I wasn’t going down that path again with Vincent. I’d had a wonderful time, yes—but the unexpected pain that had dogged me afterward wasn’t worth it. I didn’t refer to that hurt as getting over him, even if deep down, I knew that was what it was. I only acknowledged that I couldn’t afford to let it happen again. Vincent DiMartino might have been the sexiest, hottest and yummiest man I’d ever met, but he was definitely dangerous to my well-being.
I hadn’t seen him until he’d walked down the aisle with Mrs. Bailey on his arm. I’d shrunk down, leaning against the back of the wooden pew, until the two had passed, but it didn’t matter, because he’d never looked my way. I’d been able to check him out at my leisure, to take in the way he looked in his dark gray suit, the way the jacket strained over those wide shoulders and tapered to his narrow waist. His hair was a little longer than it had been this summer, and to my surprise, he had a closely trimmed beard now, the dark hair covering his jaw and upper lip. While I wasn’t usually a fan of facial hair, on Vincent it was undeniably hot.
Once he’d seated Liam’s mom, he’d moved to his own spot, which happened to be about six rows directly in front of me. I had a perfect view of the back of his head, which shouldn’t have been a big deal, except that I kept remembering how the hair felt between my fingers as he’d licked me and—
“Amanda, are you all right?” My mother was eyeing me, concern on her face. “You’re fidgeting.”
“Sorry,” I murmured. “Just restless, I guess.”
“It’s nearly over. Once the bride presents the bouquet to the Virgin Mary, they just do the pronunciation and then everyone walks back up the aisle.”
Mom was right. Within seconds, the priest was blessing the new Mr. and Mrs. Liam Bailey, and everyone was walking toward us. Liam shot me a triumphant grin as he and Ava passed, and I felt his jubilation. Julia and Giff came behind them, followed by Carl and Angela and then Ava’s little niece Frankie and the rest of the families. I moved a little behind my mother as Vincent approached, walking by himself, but I knew the minute he spotted me. Heat rose up from my chest, flooding my face. It felt like every spot on my body that he’d touched was suddenly on fire again.
His eyes widened a little, and his step stuttered, to the point that I thought he might stop to speak to me. But he didn’t; whether it was by choice or whether the tide of people in the aisle simply carried him on, I didn’t know.
My mother glanced at me over her shoulder, one brow arched. I pretended not to notice.
When it was our row’s turn to file down and go through the receiving line, my heart thudded against my chest. I smiled automatically and offered my hand to Ava’s parents, kissed Mrs. Bailey’s cheek and gave the Senator a stiff hug. Liam’s embrace was much more genuine, and Ava squealed a little when she saw me.
Next to the bride and groom were Julia, Giff, Carl and Angela, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen. I wondered where he’d gone.
“Don’t you look gorgeous, gorgeous.” Giff smacked a kiss on my cheek and then held me at arm’s length to check me out. “Super sexy.” He tugged me close for a hug, taking the opportunity to whisper into my ear.
“Vincent went on ahead to the restaurant to oversee the set up. Don’t worry, cookie. He’ll be there when you show up.”
I pushed back and frowned at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Giff rolled his eyes. “Fine. Play it that way. But let me tell you, he might not say it in so many words, but Vincent was looking forward to seeing you again.”
I walked on then, my mother nudging me from behind, but not before I wondered what ‘not saying it in so many words’ meant in Giff-speak. It could be anything from a look on Vincent’s face to something my friend had interpreted to mean what he wanted it to mean. It wasn’t anything that should make me feel hopeful or eager to get to the reception. Not when I knew that I had no intention of indulging in a reprisal of that particular show.
“You have the directions to the restaurant?” Mom clicked the key fob to unlock the doors to her sedan.
“Yep.” I slid into the passenger seat. “It’s not very far.”
“It was a beautiful ceremony.” She glanced at me out of the side of her eye as we turned out of the church’s parking lot. “It’s so nice to see Liam happy, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” I repeated. “He and Ava are perfect together.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” my mother countered. “Every couple has their issues, Amanda. The ones who seem to have the least usually have the most.” She paused. “Not that I expect Liam and Ava to be unhappy, mind you. I have a feeling that between the solid base of her family and the example his parents set of hownotto act, they should be fine. But never think anyone has it all together, honey.”
“Okay.” I stared out the window into the darkness. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, though, Mom. Are you trying to tell me something about you and Daddy?”
“No, not at all. We’re fine, thank you very much. But you know, we had our growing pains, too. When we met, it felt like we were complete opposites. I was outgoing and ambitious, and your father was quiet and shy—an introvert who’d rather talk about people who’d lived three hundred years ago than to actually talk to people living now.”
“You’re describing Daddy exactly as he is now.” I adored my father, but he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.
“Ha! You have no idea, sweetie. He’s positively talkative now compared to how he was when we met. The day I brought him home to meet my parents, my mother took me aside and told me that we didn’t stand a chance. She predicted that if we got married, we’d be divorced in a year.”
“But she was wrong.” I smiled. I pretended to be embarrassed by my parents’ devotion to each other, but it was a wonderfully secure feeling to know that they still loved each other today as much as they had when they’d met.
