Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(93)
Harriet mutters something about mannerless heathen under her breath. Some things never change with her.
“I’m so sorry!” I pat my mouth a few more times and try to regain my wits. “There was a bug in my drink, and I didn’t see it in time.”
“Of course, hun. Well, anyway…like I was saying, there were all these squeaky sounds and then—even worse—moans.” She shakes her head and then casts a sly look that only I would be able to see. And that’s when I realize she knows all about what happened last night with Will and is teasing me in front of everyone. Traitor!
I clear my throat, willing my cheeks not to flame. “Yep! Sounds like a ghost to me. Better call someone about that. Well, excuse me, I need to go check on Amelia. See ya’ll!”
I’m out of there so fast I nearly run straight into someone. Thankfully, a hand with a butterfly tattoo covers my wrist and stops me before my drink can end up all over either of us. I look up into the smiling eyes of Will, and my heart sighs with relief.
“You’re here,” I say, sounding far too dreamy even to my own ears. But you would sound like this, too, if you could see the man. He’s in an indigo-blue suit that fits him to tailored perfection. Crisp white dress shirt underneath with the top button undone. The only tattoo showing is his butterfly, which for some reason, knowing what else is living under that suit, which no one else knows is there besides me, is driving me wild. I want to unbutton him one by one right here in the middle of the party. Strip him naked just like he should always be. His body is simply too good to keep covered.
He lowers his voice and steps closer and leans into me, his one rebellious lock of hair dashing almost provocatively over his eyebrow as he does. “You are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.”
And just like that, my skin is tingling all over with remembered whispers of his body against mine.
“You look pretty stunning yourself.” Too stunning. “Wait—am I distracting you from your work right now?”
He shakes his head and wraps his arm around my lower back to pull me in close to him. “I’m off the clock tonight. Well, off the clock for Amelia for good. My replacement from the agency showed up today. Danielle is over there in the black pantsuit. She’s assigned to Amelia from now on.”
I turn my gaze to the very stern-looking woman hovering on the outskirts of the event.
My smile falls along with all my hopes and dreams. “So that means…your job here is officially over?”
He glances away and then back to me. “It means I get to enjoy the night by your side.”
“The night…” I repeat quietly, feeling just how final everything feels suddenly. How little time I have to say everything I feel.
“Will…” I wrap my arms around his waist. “I…want to say thank you.”
His eyebrow goes up, and a cocky smile slants his mouth. “For last night?”
“For everything. For the tutoring and the friendship and—”
He cuts me off, playfulness dissipated. “Wait, wait, wait. Is this a goodbye speech?”
I shrug and then direct my gaze to the floor so I don’t cry. “Well, tomorrow is the wedding. I’ll be working all morning to set up and also after the wedding to clean up. And if your job here is done, then…”
Will hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it up. Before he says anything else, he bends down and kisses me. Long and slow. It’s not an obscene kiss, but it’s so tender my stomach quivers. My heart swoons.
He pulls away and then runs a finger softly across one of the barrel curls my sisters put in my hair earlier, his eyes tracing his own movements as he does. “No way in hell am I saying goodbye here in front of all these people, Annabell.” He kisses me one more time. A quick peck just as a DJ begins to play soft background music while everyone mingles.
Will smiles. “Dance with me?”
I look around. “Uh, I don’t think this is really a dancing sort of night. Everyone is just eating and talking.”
“Come on, practice slow dancing with me,” he says with a playful hitch of his chin. A who-cares-about-anyone-else look. It’s what I love about him.
I nod and Will takes my palm in his and wraps his other around my waist as he pulls me in tight. Together, here in the middle of the tent, Will and I slow dance. His hand splays possessively across my back and then tucks our joined hands up between our chests. I close my eyes and memorize the way he smells and the feel of his suit jacket against my cheek. We sway in rhythm under the twinkling lights, and I can hear the sound of his breathing. His thumb glides delicately across the back of my hand in the most tender affection I’ve ever experienced. Suddenly, I want to beg him to stay. Stay! Stay! Stay! Never leave. Forget D.C., we could be so good together. I love you.
Off to the side, I see Amelia and Noah start to walk toward the clearing in the field where the ceremony is going to take place, and the wedding planner waves us all to follow. It’s time to start the rehearsal.
Will bends down and kisses my cheek, and again I anticipate the saddest goodbye of my life. “Hey, do me a favor and wear those banana PJs tonight?”
“Why?” I ask.
He grins and looks every bit like the roguish fiend he is when he says, “Because I’ve dreamed of peeling them off you more times than you can imagine. I want to make it a reality tonight.”