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My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “Ryan?” He shoots me our signature ‘I’m just as surprised as you are’ wink but keeps up his grin so I decide to just go with it.
Suddenly, a huge white tiered cake is being wheeled into the room by Alex, who also has a toddler balanced on his hip. His wife Nora follows with the knife, accessories, and, yep, fireworks.
“I kind of went overboard with the cake.” Nora explains with a sheepish grin. “But since we’ve now declared it a wedding party, it makes perfect sense right?” There are several hums of agreement.
I can’t believe these people. I’m overwhelmed by their love.
Brooke, who had been lingering on the side, finally steps forward. I leave the circle of Ryan’s arms, and I go to her. “I’ve missed you so much, Brooke.”
“I’ve missed you too.” She pulls me into a hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Harriet and the wedding.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you did it.” She hugs me again, and I realize how much I’ve missed her quiet wisdom, how I could pretty much tell her anything, and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
“Stella, this is nice though.” She looks around the huge cabin. “Different from anything he’s ever built, I think. A grand gesture. What do you think it means?” Brooke always cuts to the heart of the matter.
The same question I’ve been asking myself. I shrug. “I guess it shows his generosity?”
“Huh,” her scoff tells me what she thinks of that idea. But before I can ask what she means, the room bursts into a chorus of congratulations and “Happy Married Life.”
Well, everyone except Brooke and Xavier who know we’ll be divorcing very soon.
A few more of my friends come around. Before long, we’re deep in discussion. Most gush about how impressed they are with the yacht. They’re careful not to drop spoilers though, knowing I haven’t yet had a chance to see it.
“Okay, enough with the whispering and eternal group hug,” Jordan, announces, breaking up our intimate circle. “I can’t keep my eyes off Nora’s cake if it’s within a five-foot radius.”
“Don’t you dare touch that cake, Jordan!” Sabrina warns her husband.
“Not without the couple cutting it first!” Nora insists. “They get first dibs, plus we’ve got fireworks.”
And so, without further ado, I’m dragged from my moment with the girls.
Ryan stands ready by the cake, having also been pushed there by the guys. He holds a cutting knife in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. His eyes are hot and assessing, but there’s also a hint of concern. He draws me close. “Are you okay?”
“Of course! I can’t thank you enough—for everything. For Harriet.” My voice trembles slightly with emotion. “And for this incredible wedding gift.”
“Anytime, baby.”
I have to tear my gaze away from Ryan when our friends start leering and catcalling, suggesting we get a room. Geez I can’t even look at the man? It was so much easier to play loving couple with the Fairchild sharks than this bunch of horny goofs.
Nora does the thing with the fireworks, then orders us to dig in.
Ryan cuts out a piece and plates it, but instead of offering it to me, he says, with a playful glint in his eyes. “Wanna have some fun with this crazy bunch?”
He doesn’t wait for my response. Instead, he picks up the cake, then feeds it to me. I do the same to him.
You’d think they were a bunch of toddlers gone high on sugar with the way they’re hopping and cheering.
I have to laugh at their antics, thoroughly enjoying their joy. Wow. Acting does give a certain rush.
Giving in to the urge to play some more, I grab Ryan’s wrist and seductively suck the icing off his fingers, giggling all through.
Suddenly someone shouts, “Fucking kiss already!” and others hoot in agreement. In a few moments, the cabin is filled with chants of “Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her.”
I freeze. I notice Ryan has also gone very still beside me.
We don’t kiss.
