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“You got it. It keeps them with me, even though we’re not together.” Fuck, I shouldn’t tell her any of this. Ainsley has this way of making me want to tell her about me. The real me.
She shakes her head slowly. “You are a very interesting person. I’m sorry I misjudged you when we first met. You were a little intimidating.”
“Yeah, I guess I can come off pretty scary.”
“That, and I’m not used to guys like you coming up to me out of nowhere and trying to make conversation.”
“Guys like me? Scary guys with ink all over them?”
Her teeth sink into her lip before she looks out over the stream, away from me. “That wasn’t what I meant, but now that you mention it, yes. That, too.”
A breeze stirs her hair, making it brush against her cheek. I’m halfway to tucking it behind her ear before I stop myself. What the hell is this? I have to be careful, and not only because I’m here on a job. A girl who wears a miles-wide ball gown to a wedding because she thought it was pretty, a girl with nobody but pets at home to greet her tonight, might take that the wrong way. I can’t lead her on.
“All right, ladies!” The DJ’s voice rings out loud and clear, and we both turn to look inside. “You know what time it is. If there isn’t a ring on it, get out here on the dance floor for your chance to catch the bride’s bouquet!”
“Well?” I prompt when Ainsley remains rooted to the spot. A few of the girls dash inside, giggling, but not her.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going in? You don’t have a ring on it,” I tease.
“Yeah, but… I don’t know.” She crosses her arms over her chest, trembling.
“Fuck them.” I nearly snarl before pulling back—I can’t afford to alienate her. “You have just as much of a reason to try to catch the bouquet as anybody else.”
“Who would want to marry me?” She catches herself, sliding me a guilty look. “I’m not really expecting an answer.”
“I didn’t think you were. And I still think you need to get your ass out there, and anybody who tries to get in your way needs an elbow to the face.” She bursts into helpless giggles while I take her by the hand and pull her inside. “Let’s go. I want to see you catch that bouquet, then hold it over your head and shriek like an Amazonian warrior.”
“Okay, I’ll try. But I can’t promise the whole Amazon thing.” At least she’s smiling now as she takes her place among the dozens of other girls vying for a chance. I make it a point to look around, searching for her mother—and it’s no surprise to find her shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Some mother. It’s times like this I’m glad I never have to deal with one of my own. Sometimes, not having one is preferable.
Caroline stands on the raised platform where the DJ equipment sits, and she turns her back to the girls. “Okay, ladies. Here we go!” The DJ holds up a hand, counting down with his fingers. “One, two, three!”
The bouquet sails through the air, and it’s better than one of those Black Friday sale videos where everybody’s elbowing each other, trying to get the last discounted TV. I can’t stop myself from laughing, the way so many others do, as the girls fumble with the bouquet, which bobs over their outstretched hands like a boat on the waves. Nobody can seem to get a good grip on it.
Until one of them does. “I did it!” There’s a lot of half-hearted applause from the losers, all of whom slowly back away to reveal the victor.
Ainsley spins in place, holding the bouquet over her head. She’s glowing, smiling from ear to ear, and I have to smile with her. There’s more than a little bit of jeering coming from behind me, out on the deck where Paul’s still hanging out with his friends.
My job has never bothered me. I always assumed I was missing a vital piece that most people possess. That special something that separates the normal folks from murderers. It isn’t like I take pleasure in my work. I don’t mind it, though, either.
But tonight? It’s different. Tonight, I’m looking forward to it.
“I can’t believe I did it.” She’s not paying attention to Paul, her parents, or anyone but me, which is a good thing. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“Beautiful.” I’m not looking at the flowers. I can’t see anything but her shining eyes and her flushed cheeks. This time, I go through with tucking her hair behind her ear, if only to make this look good to anyone watching.
“Now, all you have to do is catch the garter.”
“Pardon?” Yes, now that she mentions it, Caroline is seated in a chair in front of Michael, who’s halfway up her dress as we speak. I don’t attend many weddings, so this is new to me. A quick look around reveals a handful of unimpressed guests—mostly the older ones, like Ainsley’s mom. She mouths the word, “Tacky,” to Caroline’s mom, who waves a dismissive hand.
Michael emerges, twirling the garter around his forefinger, earning applause from his groomsmen and a few knowing whistles. “Now, whoever catches the garter has to…” The color drains from Ainsley’s face. “They have to put it on the leg of the girl who caught the bouquet. Oh, dang it. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to.”
“I wonder who’s brave enough to catch it!” Paul calls out. “Good luck to whoever that is.”
I know what I have to do, even if it wasn’t in the plans to make myself visible to the entire guest list. The fewer people who remember me, the better. No way am I letting her down now, though, not with her asshole cousin, his friends, and even her father laughing in snide disbelief.
There aren’t nearly as many men out on the floor as there were girls, but once I step up, a few more join me. Paul shoves a couple of his buddies toward the floor, too. They argue and shove each other playfully, and I sure do hope neither of them ends up with a black eye by the time this is over.
