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And that’s really kind of sad…
Dinner, speeches, dancing – the reception is in full swing. We’re all under a large white flag pole tent where fairy lights line the entire perimeter, and both the lights and strands of chiffon come up to meet at the top of the poles, creating a soft, romantic glow.
Every table has a candlelit lantern inside of a lush greenery ring made of ferns, eucalyptus, and white and blush English roses – all surrounded by tea lights. It’s soft, romantic, and beautiful. It’s very Ally.
Adding to the romance, the trees lining the lake outside of the tent all have strands of fairy lights hanging down from their branches, making it seem as if the stars are falling in waves to the ground, greeting us like a cosmological wonder.
She really has created an enchanted forest.
“Would you like to dance?” My head turns towards the smooth as honey voice, and my eyes clash with the same pair that’s been watching me all night.
Standing before me, Alex’s full height hits me, and I have to stretch my neck back to look up at him. Holy mother of pearl, he seriously knows how to wear a suit.
“Maybe you should ask your date?” I question, but he just smirks and shrugs.
“She’s off fixing her face or something. She’ll be a while.”
Looking around, I scan the crowd to see if his little Harley model date is nearby, but I don’t see her.
“Come on, Mel. Dance with me.” Smiling, he holds his hand out for me to take. I didn’t even think he’d remember my name.
Should I? Could I? I really don’t think it’s a good idea to dance with the green-eyed monster, but the many glasses of wine I’ve had throughout dinner are convincing me otherwise at the moment. So is his sexy square jaw covered in a shadow of stubble, his high cheek bones, strong brow, and slightly crooked nose that’s probably been broken once or twice. And those lips. God, those lips. He’s distractingly handsome.
Sighing, I place my hand in his and stand, smoothing my dress down with the other in the process. My palm tingles against his, but I try and tell myself it’s just the wine, not him.
One dance can’t hurt, right?
Walking out onto the dance floor, Alex spins me around, and then pulls me in close.
Warm. That’s what I feel as his hands rest on my lower back.
The warmth from his large hands finds me through my dress, and I feel it spread up my back, a shiver running through me in the process.
If he can make me feel like this with my clothes on, I wonder what his hands on my bare skin would feel like.
What? No. I can’t be thinking like that.
I try and look anywhere but up at him, and so instead, I take in the other people on the dancefloor with us. Ellie is dancing with Tyler, Ash with Ry, and Ally is smiling dreamily up at her new husband.
And I’m in the arms of Alex.
I don’t even know his last name. I know nothing about him other than that he’s sexier than sin, rides a motorcycle, is a bartender, and knows how to make every woman who comes close enough, melt on the spot.
And it’s that last one that stands out the most to me.
“You’re beautiful,” Alex murmurs in my ear, and a shiver runs down my spine.
What?
Pulling back, I meet his eyes, and I’m ensnared – caught in their trap like a fly in honey.
Being this close, I can see that there are gold flecks floating amongst the emerald that only makes the color more unique, more captivating.
“The appropriate response would be ‘thank you’, or ‘you look like James Bond in your suit, Alex’.” He smiles, blinding me with how good looking he is.
He’s not wrong. He does look like James Bond. A rougher, rugged James Bond. But him nonetheless.
His dark, almost black hair, is tousled, looking like he’s run his hands through it a few times. Probably from being in a suit for so long. Alex doesn’t exactly strike me as a suit wearing man, despite the fact that he looks like he should be on the cover of GQ. He could be on the cover in jeans and a t-shirt though, too.
