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It’s then I realize I have my hand resting on her shoulder. Whether it’s to keep her from toppling into the pool—we’re still near its edge—or to stop myself from making good on my promise to look after Sean’s family, I’m not sure. And by look after, I mean make sure he keeps in line and isn’t disrespectful.
“They’re drunk. I’m ready to go home,” Lally mutters, dismissing them completely.
“Do you live nearby?” I could give her a ride.
“Used to. I’m staying here at the hotel courtesy of the bride and groom-to-be. Haven’t checked in yet, though.” She bends over and picks up her strappy sandal high heels. Water drips from them and she starts toward the exit.
She forgot her purse and I find it under the chair, hastening after her. But like me earlier, she’s stuck at the gate.
“Need this?” I hold up her purse.
Our hands brush as she takes it.
Her lips part as if she’s going to say something, but the words must stick or she’s talking herself out of saying them.
Our eyes meet. Hers sparkle, still retaining their bright green hue even in the pool’s silver-blue glow. Lally’s makeup runs slightly and I take the corner of the towel and wipe it away.
Her expression falters. “Thanks, by the way. If it puts your mind at ease, unlike a giraffe, I can swim. I do laps in the ocean every morning.”
“Me too.”
“So, you don’t live inland either?”
I shake my head, but I’m not sure where to call home these days.
Puffing her cheeks with a breath, she says, “Also, I don’t ordinarily forget things like my purse.”
“No worries. It’s been a night.”
“You can say that again. Though not quite as bad as I expected.”
I look at her pointedly.
“Oh, this? It’s nothing. You don’t want to know about what happened last time I was in Atlanta. Unless you already know which—never mind.” She tries the gate again and when it doesn’t open, without another word, she hops the fence in one swift vaulting motion.
My brothers and some of my buddies have pointed out that I don’t smile often. Something about how the fact that Lally can take care of herself, find her way out of a pool enclosure in a dress, and swims ocean laps causes that flare inside to stir a smile onto my lips.
Lally can clearly take care of herself, but I follow her into the parking lot, partly because I’m a gentleman and I have to get my stuff, including the rings, from my truck.
Lally goes left, presumably to her vehicle. I go right, but I listen in the night, making sure she’s safe. Two minutes later, we find ourselves in the hotel lobby.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you in the morning to walk down the aisle,” Lally says with a tired smile on her lips.
“Big day...that I’m all too happy to get over with.”
“Same,” she says as if she wishes that weren’t the case.
The receptionist calls us forward. Allowing Lally to go first, I hang back a pace. Again, I take her in at a safe distance. The smooth slope of her neck, her shoulders, her curves...
She turns around, slouching. “They don’t have my room. Romy—” Lally goes quiet and drops her head onto the marble counter as if she’s given up.
She can have my room. I’ll sleep in my truck—that’s a major step up from some places I’ve caught forty winks. Stepping forward, I say, “Magnus McGregor. Checking in.”
“Good evening, sir. Yes, we have you right here. Oh, wait, Miss. Did you say your name is Lally? Lally McGregor. My apologies. We have you both right here. I thought you said your last name was McGuinness. It’s been a long day.”
We both look at the man and then at each other as if not quite sure we understood what he said.
“I’m Magnus McGregor and I reserved a room for one night.”
