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“We’re choosing our own bulls.” Chi smiled with a gleam.
“Ooh…do tell.” Kelsey leaned in toward Rosie. “Is there a guy here that you would consider bringing home to meet the adorable Jorge?”
As the DJ changed the music and announced the bouquet toss, Rosie was saved from admitting that the guy already knew Jorge, and Jorge already adored him.
* * *
Gideon stood on the fringes, just beyond the circle of people surroundin
g the dance floor where Ari held up her bouquet. Rosie mingled with the crowd of brightly dressed ladies, Jorge dancing around her excitedly, probably telling her she had to jump high to catch it, since she was shorter than the other women.
She’d let down her gorgeous hair, her curls caressing her shoulders, and Gideon ached to run his fingers through the silkiness.
He ached for a lot of things he would never have. And he needed to be okay with that. After all, he had so much now—his sister back in his life, a fabulous nephew, a good job, a great boss and company to work for.
If only that meant he could stop thinking about the past, could stop constantly reliving the hell it had been, and get closer to Rosie than merely the fringes of her life.
“Okay, ladies,” Ari called out. “Get ready!”
“Come on, Mom, you can grab it.” Jorge’s voice carried from amid the flock of women.
What a great kid. He wasn’t shy, he wasn’t frightened of life. He was fun and proud and wonderful. Just like Noah.
Ari threw the bouquet high and wild, petals falling as it arced through the air. There was a hue and cry as the women jumped for it in their heels.
Gideon’s gut clenched for a long moment as he thought of Rosie catching it. As he thought of the tradition, that whomever caught it would be the next to marry. That she’d finally find her perfect hero…and it wouldn’t be him. He should want a great guy for her, someone who would be a good father to Jorge, but his chest hurt even thinking of Rosie with another guy. Strangely, for all her beauty and brains, he’d never seen her with a man—never heard even a whisper of a date. The same went for him. But his reasons were surely different from hers.
Simply put, since he’d met her last year, all other women had lost their allure.
In the end, however, Rosie didn’t catch the bouquet. “I can’t believe I caught it.” Lyssa Spencer held the colorful flowers away from her, looking slightly horrified.
She wasn’t the only one who looked horrified, Gideon noted, as all five of the Mavericks instantly assumed protective stances, lest any hapless man at the party dared to approach their precious little sister. Gideon didn’t envy the guy who tried to date Lyssa Spencer. No man in his right mind would want to face down that firing squad.
Gideon faced one every day—a firing squad of brutally dark memories he would never be able to outrun.
Pushing his way out of the gathering of women, Jorge raced to him. “I really wanted Mom to catch it, but she didn’t jump high enough. Did you see, Gid?”
Rosie joined them before he could reply. “I could have caught the bouquet if I’d felt I needed it. But I’ve always thought that if true love is meant to be, it doesn’t need divine intervention.” Her eyes twinkled as she ruffled her son’s hair.
Gideon had to look away from the brightness of her smile. It offered too many things he couldn’t have. Not only her beauty and innate sensuality, but also her faith in true love. It was still alive inside her heart, even after the hell Ari hinted Rosie had been through with Jorge’s father.
On the dance floor, Ari gave Lyssa a huge hug while the photographer snapped pictures. Then the wedding organizer pulled up a chair while the DJ announced that it was time to take off the garter.
Rosie explained to Jorge, “It’s a piece of fabric that traditionally held up the stocking on a bride’s leg. Nowadays the groom throws it to the single men in the same way that the bride throws the bouquet to the single women.”
Ari sat in the chair while her new husband bent down in front of her and lifted her skirt. “Nice tennis shoes,” Matt said in front of their rapt audience.
“Thanks.” She lifted one foot so everyone could see her bedazzled Nikes. “I wanted to make sure I could run up the aisle to be in your arms.”
As they kissed, the women sighed, the men clapped, and Jorge exclaimed, “Ewww,” screwing up his face. Gideon agreed—he wasn’t sure he could handle watching his sister being kissed senseless, even by her husband.
And when Matt began to trail his hand up her leg toward the garter, Gideon knew he should restrain his protective urges, at least for today. But this was his sister, for God’s sake.
“Get on with it, man,” he called out, his voice gruff.
Rosie grabbed his hand without so much as a pause—yet again crossing the barriers he’d put up between them. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the feel of her palm against his, her softness caressing his callused skin.
“You’re doing great, big brother,” she said gently. “Not much longer now.”
