“Somewhere else, then,” she all but whines.
The flush eating at the apples of her cheeks has me giving in. We’ll only be gone a few minutes, and even that’s generous, considering how keyed up we both are.
I don’t know if it will ever stop being like this, but I sure as fuck hope not. I hope we spend the rest of our lives feeling like if we don’t get our hands on each other, we might just go up in flames.
A warm breeze cuts through the bar and ruffles Brielle’s loose curls. The scent of exhaust and the Italian restaurant down the street distracts the both of us long enough that we freeze and turn to the entrance of the bar.
“A little help, please!”
I don’t recognize the voice as quickly as Brielle does. My hands fall to my sides, suddenly empty when she steps out of my grasp and rushes to help the woman balancing a giant three-tiered platter of pink- and gold-coloured desserts in her arms.
Both Brielle and Aubrey step in instantly and push the doors open for her to step inside. After she’s balanced herself, they take the tray from her and drop it off at the designated table. I quickly piece together that this woman is the same one whom my fiancée has mentioned a time or two over the last few weeks. Though usually, her name is brought up in relation to Beck.
Glancing to the table he’s been sitting at, I find him staring directly at the newcomer. There’s nothing subtle in the way he regards her like a man who’s seeing the sun for the first time after a life spent underground. It’s a dangerous way to look at someone unless they share the same feeling.
I imagine that’s how I stare at Brielle.
“You should have called and told me you were here! We’d have gone out to help you,” Brielle rambles.
I look away from Beck and take the few steps it takes to reach Brielle’s side once again. The three women turn to regard me.
“You must be Quinn,” I say, offering her my hand.
The small smile she offers me is the furthest thing from shy. “That’s me. And I’m assuming you’re the groom?”
She has the most startlingly blue-grey eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like she’s altered the saturation of them and drained the original colour out. Compared to the pin-straight auburn hair, they almost look out of place.Almost. Because as jarring the combination is at first sight, they somehow begin to blend together after a few moments.
“Soon-to-be.” Brielle hugs my side and pinches the bottom of my shirt, nearly catching my skin.
My lips quirk at the not-so-subtle claiming as I palm her back. “That’s me.”
“I’m sorry for being late. There was a rush at the café as I was on my way out, and I’d already sent my barista home.”
“You’re right on time, actually. Do you want to stay for the rest of the party?” Brielle asks eagerly.
Quinn tries to be subtle, but I notice the way she looks around the room, searching for something—someone. Once she finds him, she stills for a beat. When her eyes snap back to Brielle, she shakes her head.
“I appreciate the invite, but I’ve had a long day. I’d love some pictures of everything after, though.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as we have them,” Aubrey tells her.
Evie’s been snapping them all night with the new camera Brielle helped her pick out last week. It’s the first purchase they made with Soft Body in mind. Which reminds me that I haven’t seen her in a while . . .
“Great. I’ll head out, then. Congratulations, by the way,” Quinn says, already backing up to the door.
Aubrey’s on the move to the bar, but Brielle lingers at my side until Quinn’s out of sight, the door swinging shut behind her.
“Territorial,” I muse before pressing a kiss to the top of Brielle’s hair.
“She’s beautiful.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Liar. You’d have had to be blind not to notice,” she grumbles.
I take her hand into mine and twist the ring on her fourth finger. “You’re wrong, and I’m up to proving it to you all night if that’s what you want.”
“I’ve got many other plans that don’t include another woman, actually.”
