How to Ruin a Wedding(74)
And it’s Anders’s birthday today.
Taina knocks on the door. “Hurry up,” she calls out. “I’m dying of boredom here.”
It’s been silent during the ride, from the moment Anders opened the passenger door and let me in. He only nodded to greet me, and he didn’t even turn the music on. The tension is heavy and thick; the air is hard to breathe. So, I push the window down, despite the thick humidity from the night air, which is sure to frizz up my hair.
Still, frizzy hair or not, my skin looks flawless and dewy thanks to Taina, and my spaghetti-strapped black dress pairs well with Anders’s black trousers and white button-up. We look good together.
He looks good alone. His sleeves aren’t at their usual rolled-up positions, but the veins on his hands protrude under his skin as he grips the steering wheel, his watch reflecting the lights of oncoming cars every so often. Even with the window open, his aftershave reaches me, and the scent of it brings me this blend of comfort and desire so suddenly I have to cross my legs and look away.
When we get to the vineyard, Anders parks at the end of the full lot. After this, I’m going to Taina’s, so I grab the tiny bag sitting by my feet and hand it over.
He looks at it like it’s holding a mousetrap.
“For you.” At that, his brows go up, and he stills, like he’s never been given a gift in his life. “It’s not much. It’s kind of cheesy.”
Anders reaches into it, pulls out the miniature golden frame with a replica of his favorite painting in it. “What is this?”
“I remember at the gallery, Valerie said it was your favorite painting. The artist was at the market when I went with Bethany and Olive, with tiny prints of his other works. I got it then and forgot to give it to you.”
Then, because I’m not sure if he remembers how words work, I add, “Happy birthday.”
He shoves the gift in the bag, then gets out of the car. Seconds later, my side opens up, and he pulls me out with him. “What is this?” he asks.
I frown. “You can throw it out if you want.”
“Not that.” He shoves a rough hand through his hair. “This. Disappearing without telling me. Then showing up again with a gift. You’ve been different. Distant.”
A flash of headlights pours over him as another car pulls up.
“I’m still working on the wedding.” I look at my feet, already sore in these heels. “And I’m making progress, don’t worry. I can give you more updates later.”
“You know I’m not talking about that,” he snaps.
My gaze flickers to his heated one. “You should be, though.”
Then I hear doors slamming shut, footsteps—close, deliberate—approaching fast.
He narrows his eyes. “I’m a reasonable man, Lucinda, but even I have my limits.” He steps closer to me. “If I did something wrong, I’ll apologize, but I’m clueless if you don’t tell me. And if you’re putting distance between us—”
“Stop, stop, stop!” I hold up my hands as the footsteps grow louder.
“You can’t keep avoiding—” Anders starts, and then, without thinking, desperate to stop him before anyone overhears, I fling my arms around him and press my mouth to his. The shock of it steals any response from him other than his body going stiff.
I pull away, my arm snaking around him as a couple approaches us.
“Anders,” the woman says, and my heart sinks to my stomach.
Long blond hair, a perfect pointed nose, and smooth tan skin. Anna, the woman whose wedding I wrecked, and her husband, Lucas, beside her.
She opens her arms for a full hug. He pulls away from me slightly, gives her a half hug, and does the same to Lucas. I was in a half-assed disguise when I saw them and caused enough chaos they shouldn’t recognize me—hopefully—but nerves fill my stomach anyway.
Despite everything, Anders still keeps in touch with them. Weekly catch-ups, the occasional coffee, enough shared history to keep them tethered. So naturally, they know about me. Maybe not everything—but enough. Anna narrows her gaze my way, giving me a once-over. “So, you’re the secret girlfriend,” she says.
“That’s me.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” Lucas holds out a hand, and I match his firm handshake. Unlike his wife, his smile seems harmlessly curious.
“Likewise.”
“You’re different than what I imagined,” Anna says in a small but firm voice.
I cock my head to the side. “What did you imagine?”
“Someone more reserved,” she says, giving me a once-over.
My dress stops midway up my thigh and exposes a lot of shoulder, but is loose-fitting outside the chest area. Her dress is also sleeveless, with a deep plunge, but stops below her thigh.
I’m not sure if it’s a subtle insult, separating us when she knows she was with Anders longer, so I say, “Well”—I give her the same once-over—“looks like Anders has a type.”
Anders snorts, and Lucas wraps an arm around Anna. “Before this gets more awkward, maybe we should all get some liquor in our systems.”
“Great idea.” I tighten my grip on Anders until he puts his arm around me as we walk.
He and Lucas exchange pleasantries while Anna and I keep glancing at each other. Neither of us is giving the other dirty looks, and it’s not like I need to be territorial since Anders isn’t really mine and Anna is married, but there is this tension that travels with us as we move through the indoor entrance of the vineyard.