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“I will as soon as you let go of me. You’ve got a damn vise grip around my neck.”
“Wuss.”
I loosen my hands from his neck, and he places me on the ground roughly.
With my feet now firmly planted, I brush my dress down and make sure I didn’t tear it. “Nice to know you have verbal skills. Every time I’m around, you grunt at me and walk away.”
I look up at Rob as he just stands there, sliding his hands in his pockets and assessing me. His dark gaze starts at my face and then trails down my body in an unnerving way. The widening of his eyes could fool me into thinking he likes what he sees, but his deep scowl shows he’s completely bothered by my appearance.
I fold my arms and give him the staredown right back.
He’s hard and steely. Like the kind of man who would get his knuckles bloody just for fun. His demeanor is a stark contrast to the way he looks tonight, dressed in his gray suit that tapers at the waist and accentuates his broad shoulders and the definition of his thighs. He’s dressed like a humble groomsman who just stood by his younger brother’s side at the altar, but his attitude exudes annoyed party guest.
We stand like this for a few moments more, our eyes glued to one another. While he can maintain this standstill of quiet, I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut.
“Why are you back here? Are you stalking me? I’m very stalkable, so I’d understand if you followed me, but it’s giving serial-killer vibes.”
He runs his tongue along the back of his teeth.
I continue, “You didn’t have to catch me. I would’ve landed just fine. I’m agile, like a cat.”
He lowers his gaze. “What were you doing, climbing a tree?”
“I was being impulsive. Haven’t you ever done something on a whim because it felt right in the moment?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, so I place my hands on my hips and wait for his response.
With a rise of his chin, he narrows his eyes before simply stating, “No.”
“You should try it sometime. Life’s too short to just wait for exciting things to happen.”
“Hardly consider nearly killing yourself, falling from an oak tree, exciting.”
“I liked it better when all you did was grunt.”
My comment is rewarded with a light laugh. It’s quick, but there nonetheless. I’m confused by this encounter. When I say Robert Bronson has ignored me the three times we’ve met, I mean he flat-out ignored me. No words, no eye contact. I’ve seen his back more than I’ve seen his face. Lucky for me, he has an attractive backside to watch walk away.
“I’m Tara, by the way.”
“I know your name. Surprised you weren’t inside with the other hopeful romantics, trying to catch the bouquet.”
“I’m not ashamed of my single status, but playing eager beaver to some rose petals being flung in the air is not my cup of tea. Sure, it would be romantic if I caught the bouquet and my knight in shining armor caught the garter, placed it on my thigh, and we fell madly in love. But based on the cast of characters at tonight’s wedding, my knight is most definitely not here.”
Rob kneels to the ground and picks up his glass—a lowball filled with amber liquid. He leaves my wineglass on the ground. If I waited for him to hand it to me, I’d be here until I was dead. I bend down and pick up my own glass, which is still half-full.
“You can tell a lot about someone by what they drink,” he remarks.
I look at him from over the rim of my glass, confused as to why, after a year of knowing me, he chose tonight to communicate with me.
“Let me guess. White wine makes me dainty and incapable of making hard decisions.”
“From the way you were struggling to hold yourself up on that tree, I’d say the dainty part is right.”
“I’m hella strong. I teach a kickboxing class twice a week. Why are you so mean?”
“Why are you still standing here, talking to me?”
“Because I don’t cower to assholes.”
