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If there was any chance of something special coming from what was happening between Wyatt and me, I had officially convinced myself I would be the reason it wouldn’t work out.
I mean, Wyatt had already told them something about me. Maybe I didn’t know the specifics of the conversation he’d had with his family, but it seemed he’d indicated there was something meaningful happening between us.
I’d done the very opposite. When Wyatt showed up at my ice cream shop the day my mom and grandma were there, I felt mortified. I was terrified at the thought of them knowing how much time he and I had been spending together, even if most of it had happened while we were running.
It was a matter of minutes later when Wyatt and I had arrived. He’d parked right outside the Westwood Hotel, looked over at me, and said, “Hang tight. I’ll come around and open your door.”
Without waiting for a response, Wyatt exited the vehicle, rounded the hood, and opened my door, extending his hand to mine to help me out. And as we walked toward the front door, he continued to hold on to my hand.
It was strange.
I liked that he was doing it, loved the feeling of our fingers linked together, but it was odd considering we weren’t exactly dating one another.
Before I could get too caught up in that and all the questions it was forcing into my brain, Wyatt had not only led me inside the front doors of the hotel but through the foyer, down a long corridor, and past a pair of double wide doors that led into a grand ballroom.
Though I lived a hop, skip, and jump away from Westwood’s campus, I’d never ventured here. I’d been impressed the moment we stepped foot inside the hotel, but once we were in the ballroom, my breath caught in my throat.
It was stunning. Gorgeous.
My eyes moved through the space, noting the décor, the music, and the people standing around conversing with each other, and I was blown away.
I lifted my stare to Wyatt’s face and asked, “This is a birthday party, right?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming over every inch of the room once more. When I returned my attention to Wyatt, I said, “This looks like a wedding. I could get married in a place like this.”
Something strange stole over his expression, a look of surprise mixed with curiosity. Whatever was going through his mind, he didn’t share, but I suspected it had something to do with me making mention of a wedding.
“We do host weddings here, so that’s not an unreasonable assumption,” he said. “But I swear this is only Ivy’s birthday party.”
“Wow, Wyatt. This place is beautiful. Are all of these people your family members?” I asked.
Wyatt laughed, the sight and sound of it stealing my breath. “No, not quite. While a large chunk of them is family, there are a lot of friends here as well. There are some people who’ve become honorary members of our family, like Ivy’s and Cooper’s best friends. There are also many people here who feel like family because they are part of the Westwood’s team. With Ivy working in the hotel here, she’s close with a lot of the staff. We also have some of my parents’ close friends, and, of course, Ivy’s also invited friends she’s known all her life, too.”
My birthday celebration consisted of a quiet dinner with my parents and grandparents one day, and a nice dinner out followed by dancing with my two best friends another day. I couldn’t imagine having so many people around to celebrate with me.
“How old is Ivy?”
“This is her twenty-second birthday.”
Before I could respond, a masculine voice called out from behind us. “Wyatt?”
Wyatt released my hand so he could turn us around, and once we were, he settled his hand on the small of my back. Another shiver ran down my spine as he said, “Hey, Coop. Liam. What’s up, Marco? Guys, this is Rhea. Rhea, these are two of my brothers, Cooper and Liam. And this is Marco. He’s Cooper’s best friend, but he’s just like family.”
I was slightly nervous, but I smiled at them and said, “It’s lovely to meet all of you.”
“Likewise,” Cooper said.
Liam offered a nod, and I noticed he seemed to be focused more on how close Wyatt was standing to me. Or maybe it was how closely Wyatt was holding me to his body, something I was suddenly unable to ignore.
God, he smelled so good, and every inch of him that was pressed close was solid. The hand that had been resting at the small of my back moved to my opposite shoulder, and even that was strong.
“Any idea where Mom and Dad are?” Wyatt asked his brothers.
Cooper laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already dancing.”
“Fair point. I’ll find them.”
