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I shake my head.
“Honestly, there’s nothing you can do because it’s not your fault he’s doing it. I call it Peter Pan syndrome because guys like this never grow up. So long as there’s a woman to indulge him, he’ll stay a child forever.”
“Are you serious?” she gasps.
I nod. “Yeah, unfortunately so. Trust me, you’re better off without a loser like that. You deserve better than a man-boy who throws tantrums at your friend’s wedding.”
She nods and there are tears in her eyes again. But then she takes a deep breath, straightens her shoulders, and meets my gaze.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk with me and to tell me this. I’m nothing more than a stranger, so I appreciate how you’ve extended yourself. God knows, I needed to hear it.”
I nod.
“It’s no trouble at all, honey. By the way, we haven’t done any introductions yet. I’m Preston Cahill, Zora’s father.”
To my surprise, her eyes go wide in horror. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! This is your daughter’s wedding, and I’ve pulled you away from the celebration. I apologize, Mr. Cahill.”
I chuckle.
“No need. Honestly, I was getting a little bored with those speeches that seemed to go on forever. Weddings are a little dull, don’t you think? But what’s your name?”
She giggles slightly. “I’m Carolyn Kraft. I know Zora from our knitting circle, and I won’t tell her that you said that because it’s your daughter’s wedding.”
I chuckle low in my throat, her sense of humor delightful.
“And I’m happy for Zora, of course. But again, the speeches are taking forever and they’re not that funny. Tim’s best man seems to think he’s a comedian, but really, he’s more of a clown.”
This time, Carolyn outright laughs, and the sound is melodic to my ears. Plus, it’s nice to see a smile on her face, even if I can still see the glimmer of tear-tracks.
“You should go back inside,” she reminds me after one last hiccup. “I’m fine, Mr. Cahill, and it was sweet of you to come out here. But don’t you have to give a speech, too?”
I grin. “At the rate the speeches are going right now, it won’t be my turn until midnight.”
She giggles again.
“Well then, you can use this time to practice your speech. I’ll listen,” she says, shooting me a sassy smile. “I can give you comments and point out the funny and un-funny parts.”
But I don’t want the beautiful woman to listen to my words. Instead, there’s much more that I’m looking for, and instead of pulling out my pre-written comments, I seize her chin in my hand before staring into those chocolate brown eyes.
“Oh no, baby girl. You can do more than listen. You can taste.”
With that, my mouth descends on her sweet pout. This woman is luscious and fragrant, and at first, she’s motionless in my arms. But then Carolyn melts against me, her softness accommodating my rigid strength, and that’s when I know that this is more than a kiss. This is going to be fireworks, the Super Bowl, and Mardi Gras all mixed together by the time I’ve had my fill of this particularly enchanting wedding guest.
5
Carolyn
I can’t believe this is happening. My heart stutters in my chest so hard it leaves me breathless, and my pulse beats hotly in my sweetest spot, making me go warm and moist all over. Why would such a handsome man, on such an important day, want to kiss me, a pathetic, crying mess in the hallway? Preston should have just walked away, or better yet, never come to find me.
Instead, I’m pressed against Preston Cahill, breastbone to knee, enjoying his caresses. His big hands angle my head to provide better access to my mouth, and with a low growl, he slants his lips over mine, taking what belongs to him.
“Oh,” I sigh, melting against him as my eyes flutter shut. “Mmm.”
The older man lets out a low, knowing chuckle.
“Enjoy, baby girl. Your ex was a twerp, so now you get to see how a real man claims his woman.”
Then, his tongue slips into my mouth, warm and tasting of the fizzy champagne. I moan against his lips, already losing all semblance of sanity and press myself against that broad chest. Preston pulls away for a moment, breathing hard as his blue eyes gleam.
“Come with me, honey,” he says persuasively. “I know a place where we can get some privacy.”
I nod with wide eyes, my body already melting and together, we stumble down the long hallway before making a right. There’s an unobtrusive door in the wall, and Preston opens it before pulling me inside.
“It’s a dressing room for the wedding party,” he rasps in my ear. “But no one’s using it.”
I nod as my eyes go wide because there isn’t much in the small space besides a vanity table with mirrored lights, an empty clothing rack, and a small sofa. But Preston immediately bolts the door and seizes my lips again, making me moan.
