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“Cueing music,” she replied, and the orchestra started.
Music. Yes. This was work. I could do this.
I pulled the door open, smiled at Bristol’s mother, and avoided Scotty as he escorted her down the aisle.
Once the spicy leather and vanilla that was him faded away, I got in the zone. The wedding was beautiful, and the reception kicked off without a hitch.
“Breathtaking,” someone said from behind me as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I’d been avoiding him all night, but he finally caught me. I knew stopping at the bar was a bad idea.
Squaring my shoulders, I turned and came almost as close to him as I did in the hallway, but the visceral reaction was somehow stronger. I fought to form words. “Thank you. It was all Bristol’s idea. I just put it together.”
“The wedding is amazing, but I was talking about you.”
I wasn’t one to blush, but my cheeks got warm. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
He grinned and lifted his hand for the bartender. “What are you drinking?”
“Champagne, please.”
“Are you staying for the whole reception?”
My God, was he asking what I think he’s asking? “Yes, it’s my job. But for Bristol, I actually want to.”
He chuckled and took the champagne from the bartender, then handed it to me before picking up his short glass. I took a sip so big it was a miracle I didn’t choke. Scotty watched me swallow, and when I licked a drop off the corner of my mouth, he tossed back his drink. “Let’s dance.” He plucked my glass out of my hand, slammed both of ours on the bartop, then dragged me through the tables until we were on the dance floor.
His fingers splayed across my lower back, and he pulled me so hard my neck snapped back when my chest hit his. “Scotty…” I warned. “I’m working.”
“You can dance with me.”
He began moving fluidly, and I had no choice but to follow, not that I really wanted one. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his fingers tensed into my lower back. His other arm was slanted across my back, and his hand was wrapped around the top of my ribs, his fingertips barely brushing the side of my breast. My eyes caught Bristol, and she smiled nearly as big as she did when the pastor announced her and Beck as Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Beckett.
Knowing we were being watched, I didn’t press my face into his neck like I wanted. He was a perfect gentleman, but the thick rod poking my stomach was a sneak peek at the bad boy hidden beneath his suit.
“Swear to God, I’m not giving you a line.” I leaned back only as far as he’d let me, which was just enough to look into his eyes. “Never felt this with another woman before.”
“Felt what?”
“This…” He flexed his fingers and pushed me tighter against his erection. “This need. Desire. Attraction. Call it whatever the fuck you want to, but I know you feel it too. If I touched you right now, you’d be wet for me, wouldn’t you?”
Yes. So wet I can feel it dripping down my thigh. “I’m working, Scotty. I can’t do this.”
“All right. I’ll wait for you.”
The song ended, and a fast one began, and he led me off the dance floor, keeping me close to hide the huge bulge that probably broke the zipper on his slacks. The bartender must have seen us coming because he was placing fresh drinks down for us. “Thank you.” I needed the whole damn bottle.
“Thanks for the dance, sugar.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled. “I’ve got things to do. Enjoy yourself.”
He put an elbow on the bar and leaned back, his eyes doing a long sweep of my body. I was wearing a light pink pencil skirt and a white silk blouse tucked in. Of course I had stilettos on, and those were nude, making my admittedly long legs look even longer. When he finally drug his gaze back up, he smirked. “I plan on it.”
Why was he so fucking sexy?
I couldn’t think about that right now. I did have work to do. There was an immense pride I felt for having things run smoothly and the bride and groom happy at the end of the day. I wasn’t going to let a man risk something going wrong because I wasn’t paying attention. Even if I saw something in that man who made me want to cry tears of joy, because looking into his eyes, I knew he hid the same kind of pain as me. He’d understand me.
But what if he didn’t.
“Seriously, the prettiest wedding I’ve ever been to.”
