Page 9 of D’Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding

Stepping off of the stool, Joe lifted the device into the air. “Do you mind if I put this on you?” His voice was a calming rasp that, when paired with his deep umber skin and warm, brown eyes, reminded me of Papi.

My brows met. “Oh, I didn’t know it was optional.”

He held my gaze, his expression serious but not unkind. “Wearing a microphone isn’t optional, but having it put on by me is.”

As I realized what he was saying, the corner of my mouth lifted and I felt a surge of respect for him and the network.

“If you tell me what all ‘putting it on’ entails, I can decide.”

With a nod, Joe explained how the device clipped onto the back of my pants, while the cord was snaked under my shirt so that the ball could fit into my ear. Lifting the back of my shirt, I allowed him to secure the device just inside the waistband of my shorts before following his directions to carefully thread the cord between my undershirt and the lightweight polo I wore. After pushing the soft ball—that Joe assured me was newly unpackaged—into my ear, we bumped fists and I gave him my thanks.

Kevin motioned for me to follow him out of the coatroom.

“We’re—you’re—going to go out onto the patio. There is a small crew out there and D’Vaughn’s already here. I’m going to give you two some time to get to know each other and then I’ll join you in about an hour. Don’t worry about the cameras, just act as if they aren’t there. You’re both mic’d, so relax and use your regular speaking voice. Feel free to order whatever you’d like. It’s on me today.”

Smirking, I gave him a sidelong glance as we moved toward the entrance to the patio. “On you, huh?”

He laughed lightly, lifting his broad shoulders up near his ears and dropping them swiftly. “I’m swiping the card. The network pays the bill.”

My stomach rumbled as I passed a table and spotted a plate piled high with a club sandwich cut into perfect triangles and a basket of house-fried kettle chips. Patting the protesting organ, I nodded.

“It just so happens that I brought a mean appetite, so I’ll definitely be taking advantage of that.”

I made it to the door two steps before Kevin, but we reached for the handle at the same time, his long arms and massive hands taking up a large portion of the push-bar. Eyes wide, I looked up at him.

“Damn, dude,” I breathed in awe. “What’s your wingspan?” He didn’t have an exact foot on me but it had to be close.

Laughing, he pulled his hands from the door.

“I don’t have a clue. That’s not something they check for at the doctor these days.”

Shaking my head, I cracked up at the genuine confusion in his voice.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I tipped my chin up before pushing the door open. I stepped onto the patio, my eyes sweeping the space. It was mostly empty, save for a couple people sitting off in the corner near the street under a large umbrella. They were laughing and talking and didn’t even look up at my entrance. On opposite sides of the patio were the two people that Kevin had mentioned. One stood behind a tripod mount and the other held a smaller camera on their shoulder.

The other end of the enclosed patio was where I was supposed to be. I started toward D’Vaughn, my lips curving into a smile as I observed her from a distance before she took notice of me. A thick wax-print headband pushed her curly hair out of her face, exposing the sun-kissed skin on her face as she perused the one-page menu in her hands. The tablecloth on the wrought-iron table was short, and I could see that her legs were crossed in front of her, one foot bouncing in the air. On her feet were wedge sandals that tied in a bow at the front of her ankle. The whole scene was cute, and I had a passing thought of how perfect it would be to snap a picture and post it on a rainy day with a caption along the lines of “take me back” or “summertime vibes.”

“D’Vaughn,” I murmured as I approached from her side. “Hey.”

D’Vaughn’s head snapped up and wide eyes lined with black liner and framed with thick lashes found me. With her painted lips parted, it was almost as if she was surprised to see me, but that didn’t make sense. Without a doubt, she’d received a dossier on me just as I had on her so she had to be expecting me. Blinking rapidly, she quickly pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the wooden planks that covered the floor as she stood.

“Hey, Kris.”

My smile deepened, putting all of my teeth on display as pleasure surged through me at the sound of my name on her lips. Her voice was mellow; smooth like my favorite brown liquor, and I loved the surety with which she spoke my name. Too often, I met women who, for some reason, thought that pretending to be confused about my name would keep me from realizing that they already knew who I was before we met. This moment was in stark contrast to that, not only because the greeting was personalized, but D’Vaughn used the name I’d given at the party and not the name that was likely listed in my dossier. It was a little thing, yet at the same time, tremendous, and I delighted in it.

Now that we were up close, I got a better look at her. D’Vaughn looked comfortable and was dressed for the weather. It was a warm day, already in the eighties even though it was just eleven, and she wore a short-sleeved V-neck top that was tucked into a pair of high-waisted shorts that fell to the middle of her thighs. Unfortunately, this wasn’t even unseasonable weather. Born and raised in Southeast Texas, I was used to eight out of twelve months being different shades of summer with the other four being pre-summer in varying stages of dampness. I wondered if D’Vaughn was from the area as well. Her dossier hadn’t delved into her background.

Spreading my arms, I asked, “Can I?”

Once again, she blinked, this time confusion lowering her eyebrows just a little. “Huh?”

I chuckled. “I meant, can I hug you?”

Her chocolate-brown irises widened. “Oh!” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe that she didn’t catch that. “Yes, of course.”

She took two steps in my direction, her arms widening to receive me, and I dipped low, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my palms against her back as I gave her a soft squeeze. I kept it brief, not wanting to make the situation awkward since it was so clear that she was already a little flustered, either by my presence or that of the cameras. Separating, we settled into our seats and I took a long gulp of ice water from the glass that was already placed at my setting.