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The chairs collapsed twelve seconds later. Beau just looked at me with an I told you so expression, though he didn’t say it. He then proceeded to pick up every fallen chair without a word and looked stupid sexy doing it.
He’s quiet in a very prudent way. He speaks in one-word answers, like syllables are currency he’s saving for a rainy day. He looks at me like I’m some kind of chaotic storm he got stuck driving through, and he’s just waiting for me to pass.
Pretty sure he tolerates me out of loyalty to Rowan. I mean, technically he’s never said that out loud, but he doesn’t have to. Every time I speak, he just blinks. Very sloth-like.
I don’t even know why it bothers me so much. Maybe it’s because everyone else eats up my energy like it’s candy. Maybe it’s because I’ve built my whole personality on being the loudest and brightest one in the room, and he just looks at me like I’m exhausting.
Or maybe it’s because there’s something dangerously attractive about a man who doesn’t try to impress me. At all. Who doesn’t laugh at my jokes to be polite or lean in when I talk just to win points. Who just…stands there, all broad shoulders and brooding silence, looking at me with those dark eyes like he sees through every damn thing I say.
And okay, fine. He is beautiful.
All understated strength and barely contained muscle, with that stupidly perfect dark hair that always looks like he just ran a hand through it. And that low, rough voice that could talk you down from a ledge or straight into sin.
Ugh. I need to stop.
Violet’s watching me, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug as she waits for a response.
“Okay,” I finally say. “Me and Beau. Totally fine.”
“Fine?” Violet’s eyebrows shoot up so fast they nearly launch into orbit. “That’s it? No over-the-top rant?”
I shrug because I am so chill. “What do you want me to say? The man hardly acknowledges I breathe. We’ll go, I’ll make things look pretty, he’ll brood in a corner and lift heavy stuff in a tight T-shirt, and then everyone else will show up. Easy.”
“You two will be there for a few days. Alone.”
“We won’t be alone alone.” I wave a hand. “There’ll be resort staff and vendors and…horses, probably. A bird or two. Maybe a squirrel. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find someone to talk to.”
Violet gives me a knowing look that says she sees right through all my nonsense, straight into the squishy center I keep locked behind sarcasm and lip gloss.
“It’ll be fine. I’m a professional bridesmaid. I can handle one grumpy man.”
“He’s not grumpy with everyone, you know.”
I quirk a brow. “Is that so?”
She shrugs. “He’s just…particular about people. That’s all.”
Particular. That’s one word for it. Selective, silent, allergic to small talk—pick your poison. But still, I don’t say any of that.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m incredibly charming once people get past the…overwhelming.” I flash her a wide smile.
“Just…be nice to him, okay?”
That gives me pause. Not because I wasn’t planning on it. I mean, I’m not a savage. But because of the way she says it. Like maybe Beau needs a break.
I roll my eyes gently, just to keep the mood from tipping into something too earnest. “I’m always nice.”
She snorts. “No, you’re loud. And funny. And impossible not to love. But nice? That one’s a little situational.”
Before I can defend my very situational niceness, the back door swings open and Rowan strolls in, all six-foot something of muscle and ink.
“Morning,” he says, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners when he spots me. “Wedding committee in session already?”
Violet’s entire face transforms at the sight of him. It’s like watching a flower turn to face the sun. “Just getting started. How are the horses?”
“Good.” He crosses to where Violet sits, bends down, and drops a kiss on her lips that somehow manages to be both casual and intimate at the same time.
My chest tightens with something that isn’t quite envy but definitely lives in the same neighborhood.
