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It was impossible not to smile at the sight of her sister floating down the aisle. Her dress was an elegant trumpet shape, with lace and tiny pearls overlaying every inch. Her blond hair shone, the glossy waves held back with jeweled pins. Maggie’s lips curled into a smile that betrayed nothing but utter happiness. Her eyes were already wet with unshed tears. She was so beautiful, and she deserved every bit of joy coming her way.
But when Emory took her hands, Amelia felt a tiny, shameful twinge of jealousy. It had no venom; she definitely didn’t wantEmory. But after so many years on her own—so many years telling herself she didn’t care about men or relationships—Amelia finally admitted to herself that she’d like to have a man look at her the way Emory did her sister.
The bride and groom took a step closer to the altar, and she met the green gaze of Leo St. James. He tilted his head slightly, like he could read every thought passing through her mind. His lips curled into a half-smile, and he arched a brow in question. She saw it, then, how he used his smile like a weapon. She didn’t like it aimed at her.
Amelia couldn’t help the scowl that tugged her brows. Oddly, that only made Leo’s smile widen, his eyes twinkling at her from the other side of the altar. What did a man as attractive as him have to do with her? Shouldn’t he be looking at one of the other bridesmaids? They were as glamorous and beautiful as Maggie.
Flustered, she shifted her gaze back to her sister. The ceremony began, and an hour later, after many tears and heartfelt words, her sister was a married woman.
Stirling,New Hampshire was a town of ten thousand people and almost as many wedding venues. Amelia followed the bride and groom outside the gothic church, trailed by their many wedding guests. Outside, the sun shone. Flowers were in full bloom, lining baskets and beds all along Main Street. It was a perfect Saturday in early May, with a soft, warm breeze fluttering every petal, leaf, and hem in sight.
Amelia wobbled down the church’s steps, gripping the handrail on her way down. Her emotions had run the gamut over the past few hours, and she was utterly exhausted. She made her way to the clump of bridesmaids at the bottom of the steps and leaned against the handrail. The groomsmen followed.
There were photos to take. The rest of the guests made their way to the reception venue, which was a short, five-minute walk away in a nearby hotel.
Amelia let herself be led to the side of the church, where a beautiful garden made for the perfect backdrop for photos. A stream wended through the trees at the back of the church and through the garden, burbling along, oblivious to the wedding party gathered on its banks.
“Okay, bridal party! Maid of honor and best man in the center,” the photographer called out, waving Amelia forward. “Everyone else, fan out.”
Click, click, click. Her smile held on by its fingernails until Leo, who stood beside her, let his hand brush her lower back. Then her smile collapsed completely as she glared at him.
“Say cheese, maid of honor!” The photographer looked up from his camera, then took another dozen photos with various combinations of people. This went on for an eternity.
When the groomsmen were the focus, Amelia found herself engulfed in a cloud of pale lilac and strong perfume. The other bridesmaids tittered around her while Maggie and Emory stood aside, arms around each other. At the sight of them, surrounded by blooming flowers and singing birds, their eyes only on each other, the same twinge of loneliness pierced Amelia’s heart. But now was not the time to feel sorry for herself. Banishing her dark thoughts, she turned back to the gathered bridesmaids.
“So,” Tori said to Amelia, a funny gleam in her eyes. “You’ve finally met Leo.”
“Pestilence, you mean,” Lauren cut in.
The three of them covered their mouths and sniggered.
Amelia frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t heard?” Rinn asked. She was the shortest of the bunch, her dark hair and skin set off beautifully by the lilac dress, damn her. When Amelia shook her head, she continued, “Leo St. James has a reputation.”
“Ever since college,” Tori added.
“His nickname was Pestilence,” Lauren explained, “because he gave ourentiregraduating class chlamydia.”
“Slept witheveryone,” Rinn said, spreading her hands wide for emphasis. “There was one party where he slept withfivewomen in the same night. They all got the clap.”
“Even Tori got stung,” Lauren added, eyes teasing. “Although their relationship lasted longer than most of his others.”
“Worst two weeks of my life. His skills were way overrated,” Tori grumbled, and an unpleasant sensation traveled through Amelia’s middle. It was similar to the feeling she got when she looked at Maggie and Emory’s happiness—but sharper.
“You slept with Leo?” she asked, voice low. Then she frowned. “And it wasbad?”
Laughter erupted from Rinn and Lauren. Lauren leaned in. “She’s revised her version of events. At the time, she thought he was amazing.”
“I was delusional,” Tori grumbled. “He gave me chlamydia!”
“Either him or Gerard Hill.” Rinn arched a brow and tweaked her dress to adjust the fall of the skirt. She grinned at Amelia.
“It wasn’t Gerard,” Tori hissed. “It was Leo.”
“Mm-hmm,” Lauren said.
The photographer called out, and Amelia stood beside her parents to take a photo with them and Maggie. Her head spun, eyes drifting to where Leo stood under the branches of a maple tree.
