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My eyes drop to the black shirt, and I fling my arms around his waist.
There’s a slight tension and pop at the tie beneath my arm, followed by a cool breeze where there definitely shouldn’t be one.No!
“Ohshit,” my sister hisses, lunging in to plaster herself against my side. “We’ve got boob.”
“What!”
Noel’s eyes bug, and he grabs Jamie, hauling him away.
But Liam’s already covering me with his still-warm shirt, helping me get my arms into the sleeves that have already been rolled and safety-pinned.
Ducking down so his mouth is next to my ear, he murmurs so quietly, no one can hear but me, “Come on. Tell me I’m the best husband you ever had.”
“Hands-down, the very best,” I answer, pretty sure it would be true even if I’d had a dozen of them. “You sure you don’t want to sign on to this gig forever? Tell everyone so they stop trying to find us someone else?”
He draws back a few inches, and our eyes meet, the same magnetic hold pulling me toward him when I should be leaning away.
Liam chuckles gruffly. “If I said yes, could we keep this dress?”
* * *
Liam
After the wardrobe malfunction,Misty gives me permission to cockblock at will, and Stormy and I find a relatively quiet corner in the back of the VIP floor. We’re standing side by side at a tall table. She’s got a glass of champagne, and I’ve got a bourbon, but neither of us have really been drinking.
Mostly, I've been telling her stories about the team. Listening to her melodic laughter and wishing I wasn’t such an introverted fucker so I’d have more to share. More ways to keep that laugh coming.
Because when it stops, slowing first and then fading to a smile that’s soft and sweet, I can’t stop looking at her.
Maybe it’s a good thing this girl is moving to Seattle.
A whistle cuts through the music, and we both turn to where one of the servers is standing on the bar. Cupping her hands at her mouth, she calls out a one-minute warning to midnight.
The music changes to a heavy pulse, and there’s a flurry of movement in the background. People pulling out their phones to document the last seconds of the closing year, I guess.
But my attention is on Stormy.
She peers up at me. “I didn’t realize how close to midnight it was.”
“I did.”
Her lips part, and even beneath the club lighting, I can see that faint blush breaking over her cheeks.
She blinks, and suddenly it’s there. That same look from Vegas. The one that’s curious and bold and daring.
The one that says,Yes.
I cock my head. “I mean, it’s not like it would be real.”
She bites her bottom lip. “No more so than this marriage.”
“It’s New Year’s.”
“Tradition,” she whispers, turning into me… Waiting.
Our eyes hold as the anticipation builds.
The countdown starts, and her hand moves to rest lightly at my chest. Mine slides beneath her hair.
