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She held her hands out at her sides in question.
He stood up and cleared his throat. “You are stunning.” Color rose in her cheeks, and he stepped forward, smoothing his palms down her shoulders and arms. “Like something out of my wildest dreams.”
Taking her lips with his own, he tasted them with a faint touch of his tongue, and she curled her fingers into his hair, gently tugging at the roots, inviting him to kiss her harder and deeper. Plunder and pillage. After trying to get her alone for so many weeks, he was able to touch and kiss her whenever he wanted, and he still couldn’t get enough. He feared he never would.
“I guess you don’t want to be late to your best friend’s wedding, do you?” he asked, gently easing away from her.
“No,” she said after a while, like maybe she was considering it, and he smiled, shaking out his arms as if that would help cool his blood then made sure his tie was straight before holding out his hand.
“Then let’s go.”
They walked out the front door of their room and back toward the main lodge. The ceremony was set up on a small overlook, with the few chairs in rows facing a decorated arbor, highlighting the turquoise water beyond it. The sky was painted in pinks and purples, and Mike didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around Sam when she asked Gem to take a picture of them.
“Our first picture together,” she said, showing him the screen of her phone, and he didn’t miss the way her throat worked on a swallow.
She was cracking.
She’d been cracking.
He didn’t think it would be long until she gave up on this being for the summer, and yet he wasn’t going to push her. He knew she needed to come around in her own time. Until then, he’d continue to do what he had been, showing her how it could be between them. How it would be between them, if only she could let go of whatever held her back.
Because he loved her.
Helovedher.
A single guitar player strummed soft chords, and Sam absently linked her hand with Mike’s as she talked animatedly with Laney about something he couldn’t pay attention to since he was so busy trying not to confess that he loved her. How he’d loved her from maybe that first moment at the picnic when she stumbled over her words. And then fell in love with her again on the soccer field when she was so vulnerable with him, and every time she wasn’t afraid to talk about his injury, and especially when she flashed him her smile. That wide, carefree grin that curved her cheeks so much she kind of looked like a chipmunk. He loved that too.
Loved it so much he hadn’t been paying attention when Chris walked down the aisle or when the officiant asked everyone to stand. Sam had to tug him up, a bemused laugh escaping that she’d caught him daydreaming. He was positive she wouldn’t be laughing if she could see inside his brain, to know she was the reason he forgot all time and space.
The guitarist switched tunes as Bronte appeared on her father’s arm in all white, a long, thin veil billowing behind her as she walked toward Chris, whose face had gone red with emotion.
Gem stretched her arm in front of Mike to get Sam’s attention. “For once in her life, she’s not crying.”
“I know,” she said, and Laney, on the other side of Sam, bent her head down too.
“But look at him, he can’t control himself.”
“Neither can you,” Sam said. “Who has the tissues?”
Jason, at the end of the row, stuck out his long arm, offering tissues to the ladies, mumbling something about how Gem had been a crier since the baby.
Then they were all asked to be seated, and there was no more whispering to be had. Only Chris and Bronte, in front of everyone, exchanging vows and rings and kisses. And it was official.
“I am happy to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham,” the officiant said, and Chris held on to his wife’s face with such tender care that a pang of jealousy lodged between Mike’s ribs in that moment. That Chris got to declare his love in front of everyone.
“Get a room,” someone shouted. Mike thought it was Bronte’s brother, but he couldn’t be sure, and Chris finally broke the kiss with the dopiest, happiest smile anyone had ever seen.
They didn’t walk back down the aisle, but instead, the newlyweds greeted each of their guests for hugs and handshakes. A photographer took pictures with everyone, and by the time the sun had almost completely set, the party began.
With such a small group, the resort set up two long tables on either side of a wooden floor in the grassy space between their suites. Lanterns and candles lit up the whole area, and small bits of food were served on never-ending plates. There was no official “agenda,” and multiple people gave short speeches, one from Bronte’s father, which he could hardly get through because he was crying so much, another from her sister, another from Chris’s friend and business partner, Wes, and then finally Chris, who raised his glass of champagne in the air toward the small crowd, saying, “Thank you all for coming here to this tropical paradise to celebrate our wedding. If I haven’t told you before, you all being here means the world to us. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to Bronte, my wife,” he said as if he still couldn’t believe it, “I was lost, but now I’m found, and you’re my saving grace. I love you, baby.”
The guests quietly clapped as they kissed, and music played from hidden speakers. Chris and Bronte led the party, but Mike and Sam hung back. After she finished her glass of champagne, she moved from her chair to sit on his lap.
“I’m surprised the three of you didn’t get up and do some song or dance for Bronte,” he said, tracing shapes with his fingertip between her shoulder blades.
“Nah, we’re not like that. Besides, Gem can’t carry a tune to save her life, and I told you I’m not a good dancer.”
Mike nodded. “Nice wedding, though.”
