The ceremony chairs are arranged in perfect rows along the sand, facing the ocean where a simple wooden arch stands draped in flowing white fabric and clusters of pale tropical flowers.
The tide rolls in behind it, slow and steady, as if the ocean itself has shown up to witness the vows.
The sky is overcast this evening, but not in a gloomy way. The clouds float across the horizon in beautiful brushstrokes, turning the fading sun into a muted glow that washes the entire beach in shades of silver and warm gold.
Thankfully, the clouds also keep the heat at bay, combined with the gentle breeze drifting through the ceremony.
The bride and groom couldn't have asked for a better evening to tie the knot. It’s absolutely breathtaking.
Even though I barely know these people, the amount of emotion filling my chest anchors me to my seat.
Weddings always do this to me—make me feel incredibly happy and sentimental, but also like I’m watching something that was never meant for me.
I glance around at the guests, a mixture of strangers and Owen’s friends—people I don’t recognize but who mean something to him.
Some smile while others shed tears of happiness as they watch the bride and groom recite their vows.
Being here—sitting amongst people who have memories and history in Owen’s life—feels strangely intimate. Like I’m an outsider who’s been invited into a world that existed long before I ever showed up.
The truth is… I am an outsider here.
None of these people know me. Aside from meeting Tyler on our first day, I don’t even know him and his bride.
The wooden chair creaks beneath me as I readjust, smoothing the peach fabric of my dress over my thighs. The material is light enough for the Caribbean heat, the long skirt fluttering as the wind rolls in from the water.
Thin straps rest over my shoulders, and my hair falls in loose curls down my back, still carrying the faint scent of the complimentary coconut conditioner from the shower.
My attention shifts to Owen as he leans toward me, his shoulder slightly brushing mine.
When I turn my head to face him, my stomach does a long, traitorous flip.
My God, he looks so handsome.
His navy suit jacket fits him perfectly, hugging his broad shoulders as he leans back, resting an arm behind my back. Thecrisp white shirt beneath it is open at the collar, revealing a sliver of his tan chest.
He looks polished and effortless. Impossible not to look at.
He looks like the Owen I’m so used to seeing around the office.
I’ve watched him give presentations to hundreds of people while everyone in the audience stared at him like he was something out of a fantasy.
Even now, during a wedding ceremony, people drag their attention away from the bride and groom to turn and glance at him.
His golden hair is pushed back from his face as the wind blows a few strands loose. The faint stubble along his jaw makes him look rugged and masculine, only adding to how lethally sexy he looks tonight.
My heart stutters in my chest when he glances over at me, and our eyes meet.
His mouth curves up in a slow, boyish smile as he lifts his arm from behind my back and slides his hand over my lap. My breath catches as his large hand splays against my thigh before threading his fingers through mine.
The gesture is simple, but it steals the air from my lungs.
Since we arrived in Costa Cay, Owen hasn't been shy about touching me around strangers or when we’re alone.
But something about this feels different.
We’re surrounded by people he knows. Friends he went to college with—men who were his teammates. People who have known him far longer than I have.
And yet, he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to lace his fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
