Page 41 of Yours to Keep

Bree kept walking toward me, smiling like she had no idea she was detonating my brain. No idea that just the sight of her turned my whole world upside down, but I shoved it all down to where I kept inconvenient feelings and stepped forward when she reached me.

Liana had made me turn on the charm for the day, and I was curious to see how Bree was going to react to that. It was time for her to meet me, Sullivan Crowne, the man instead of the CEO.

And yeah, maybe I am just a little bit too excited to find out where that might lead.

17

BREE

Sullivan Crowne in a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt underneath was an image that would be seared into my brain forever. He stood just outside the church doors, relaxed, polished, and smiling.

That wasn’t a common expression of his, and the sight of it did something deeply inconvenient to my internal organs. It made me slow without meaning to, just to drag out the moment of seeing him look the way he did right now.

Honestly, he took my breath away for just a moment, those gorgeous blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed with someone he was greeting. All week, I’d been worried about this very moment.

I’d thought it might be awkward at best or that he might ignore me, which would’ve been the middle ground. At worst, I’d thought he might look at me like I’d imagined that kiss in his office or that the whole paper-gown fiasco had been a shared hallucination.

As I walked up the sidewalk, however, the silver-haired man he’d been talking to moved into the church and Sullivan looked up, that smile not fading when his gaze landed directly on me.

Maybe that means I don’t have to avoid him for the whole day. I’d come prepared to do exactly that, but as I walked closer, his eyes never left mine and my brain did that thing it’d been doing on a loop for days.

I shouldn’t have kissed him. He’s my boss. He’s an asshole. A tyrant with a god complex and a terrible bedside manner. Also, he’s thirty-three, which isn’t ancient, but it is a few years past me, and that matters.

At twenty-seven, I hadn’t even hit the big three-oh yet. I still got carded sometimes. There was no way he and I could be on the same page about what we wanted out of this phase of our lives.

So why did he have to look so good in his underwear? Why did he have to kiss so well?

That part really pissed me off, because the kiss hadn’t been clumsy or rushed. It’d been confident and intentional. And you really need to stop freaking thinking about it.

I couldn’t afford to get sucked into the whole wedding-vibe today. With all the romance in the air, the flowers, the music, and the church full of hope, weddings had a way of making people weird. Emotional. But I really couldn’t let myself get caught up in it.

I was here to support Liana. That was it.

The plan I’d formulated to get myself through the day without falling for the weddingness of it all was simple. Say hi to Sullivan, get the awkwardness out of the way, make sure Liana saw that I’d come, then slip into a pew and disappear as early as socially acceptable. Head home. Bed. Nachos. No drama.

Because on Monday morning, he would still be my boss and I would still have to look him in the eye every day when I got to work—and that was already hard enough. If I bawled my eyes out at his sister’s wedding and ended up dancing on the tables to Shout!, while shooting tequila like water and talking about all the things I’d want in the future for my own wedding day, I would never be able to show my face at Saint Raphael’s again.

With that thought in mind, I drew in a deep breath as I closed the distance between us. Sullivan was still smiling, watching me approach with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but that wasn’t all. He was also alone now that the older man had slipped inside.

Sure, a few other guests were milling about outside, the women hanging on the arms of elegantly dressed men while they slowly made their way toward the steps. But none of them appeared to have come with him.

I’d assumed a man like him would have no trouble finding a date. He probably had women lining up to wear the fancy dresses he’d had sent over for them like in the movies. Women who would be good at pretending not to be intimidated by his bank account—or maybe even actively going after him to gain access to it.

Maybe his date is inside with Liana. Or stuck in traffic. Or taking a dump.

My cheeks flushed slightly at the thought as he stepped forward and I stopped in front of him. His full attention was on me now and that smile came back, just for me, like he’d been bracing for impact and decided it might not kill him after all.

Another odd, fluttering sensation started low in my stomach, the awareness coming back to life with that annoying, traitorous spark lighting deep inside my body.

You are better than this, Bree Bennett. You’re mature, a healthcare professional who has provided hospice and end-of-life care. You’re not going to faint over a man in a tux.

“Hi,” he said with a friendly tone. The greeting was delivered with an easy confidence that was so different to the barking I was used to hearing from him that I nearly swooned despite the pep talk I’d just given myself. “Thank you for coming, Bree. Liana is going to be so happy to see you.”

“I, uh, hi,” I finally managed, clearing my throat before I remembered how to be polite and arranged my lips into what I hoped was a smile. “Yeah. No. I’m excited to here.”

Well, hello, Ms. Eloquence. Beautifully put, darling.

I nearly rolled my eyes at the voice inside my head, but instead, I just kept smiling up at him. It felt normal. Surprisingly so. Easy, even. There was no weirdness at all hanging between us like a bad smell.