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I’ll also admit, listening to the dancer shoot off her mouth, I had a little bit of pride when Holly stood her ground. She has backbone, and I’m not troubled in the least with anyone finding out I’m dating the hot manager at a gentlemen’s club that’s been around longer than I have.
Laurel prompts Emory to thank me. The expression Holly’s sister doesn’t hide well proves I’m a court jester, rambling a mile a minute.
I hadn’t wanted to be late for the wedding. For Bhodi to believe we rushed out without him. Or Emory’s feelings to get hurt because she didn’t get a sleeping bag. Most of all, though? I’ve worried leaving a note on Holly’s pillow appeared sleazy instead of a mild attempt at something she’d view as romantic, and I can’t wait to get my arms around her.
Buttoning my suit jacket, I stand up, say goodbye to Laurel and the kids, and turn my attention to Holly.
The word breathtaking doesn’t do justice to what I’m seeing.
I pat my lapels down flat and hope I haven’t screwed up all the freakin’ ironing I did on my slacks by playing on the floor. It’s for damn sure I’m going to be the man on her arm, not the other way around.
She’s transformed herself into a classic movie actress and elegant fails to describe how drop-dead gorgeous Holly is. I finally understand why fans go ape shit over their icons, needing the tiniest piece of them to hold on to. I’ve never wanted to touch anyone so much and it is sheer willpower I’m able to walk over to Holly without falling at her feet.
Holly backs into the hall and the desire to show the world what I have is the only thing stopping me from giving chase into her bedroom. Especially when I’ve managed some restraint when I kiss her and she saucily asks, “No sleeping bag for me?”
If we ever go camping, I’m making her share mine.
Holly pouts her lip and I tug her close enough for my body to betray how affected I am. The way she responds, squeezing my biceps, I think it gives her a thrill. I’m conscientious tucking my nose to her neck and trailing my lips over her baby soft skin. Kissing Holly the way those lips deserve ravishing means I’m going to ruin her lipstick. I won’t risk a simple smudge wrecking our night.
We make it to the ceremony minutes before the bride and find an uptight wooden pew on the groom’s side. The ushers watched her enter the church. A few women have checked her out too, though it’s possible they like her blue dress. What I don’t know about women fills all twenty-six hardbound installments of theEncyclopedia BritannicaGramps had on his bookshelf, and I doubt any of it is available online.
Likely I’m biased, but I’m certain Holly’s stolen the show.
“Maybe I should have gotten you a sleeping bag,” I comment, uncomfortable with everyone’s attention on her.To wearis implied.
“Jealous?” She teases, tickling my side.
“Nah, you’re all mine.” I wink.
“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
I am. I’ve calmed down and can feel the warmth of her next to me. I’m definitely more confident until the preacher gets to the vows. While my mind is wandering in one direction, Holly’s tightly balled fists and rigid posture mean she’s someplace else entirely.
I haven’t asked why her marriage fell apart. It opens me up to having to be truthful about the nasty shit in my life. I reach for her hand and place it on my thigh, bringing her back into the moment with a gentleness I didn’t know I was capable of. She’s too pretty to be sad.
Later in the receiving line, Glen introduces himself to Holly and, like any good teacher, shares anecdotes about Bhodi. She’s gracious, not letting on that they’ve already met. He was too drunk to remember.
Before leaving the church, the bride tosses the bouquet and two overzealous bridesmaids volley the roses back into the air. They’re disappointed when it lands in Holly’s hands since she was standing outside the circle, trying to give them ample room.
She brings the flowers to her nose before looking to where I stand on a granite slab. Her shy smile hits me where it hurts. While driving to the reception, I’m devising a scheme to reap more rewards than the dealership gives incentive bonuses to the salesforce.
There’s a break in the dancing after the waitstaff serves the chicken when the DJ calls the single men to gather on the parquet. The groomsmen, who’ve enjoyed the open bar, push and shove. The calamity of elbows is all the encouragement I need to gain the upper hand. My grip furls around the bride’s garter, noticing a blue ribbon running through it that matches the color of Holly’s dress. It was meant to be hers all along.
I don’t make a gaudy show of slipping the garter over her toes. I plan to treat this woman with respect. Always. But that doesn’t mean the chance to lean in and kiss her is escaping. Every guest sees we’re together.
We haven’t gotten that intimate all night, and it opens the floodgates. I want to fuck her, but we proved last weekend we could wait. Holly’s infectious laugh at my flirting and dumb jokes confirms she’s enjoying herself and so am I. We shouldn’t stop on my dick’s account. All that does is bring midnight closer, Monday, work, and waiting for next weekend to see her again for a few minutes before she leaves for the club. I’ll stay frozen here on the dance floor with my arms around her while she listens to my heart beat for as long as she’ll have me.
“Cary?”
“Yeah, Doll?” I touch my chin to the top of her hair. It flows down around her shoulders in silky waves. My whiskers won’t mess it up.
“It’s late. The kids are probably asleep.”
“Do we chance waking them?”
“I can be quiet, if you can… And if you can’t, I know where my sister keeps her silk scarves,” she says with the most innocent eyes.
Mine bug out and Holly spins. I catch her and drag her back against my chest, tucking my nose to her ear.
