“If you don’t mind, I’d like to lead my new wife in our first dance,” Emerson says, holding her hand in his and gently pressing his lips to her knuckles. She beams up at him with love and adoration shining in her eyes. The crowd softly applauds, and the quartet begins to play an instrumental rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
We watch in silence as they hold each other impossibly close on the makeshift dance floor, staring into each other’s eyes as they slowly turn to the music.
When I search for Beau across the yard, I can’t find him. He probably ditched this part, and I wouldn’t blame him. A man can only take so much.
After the song ends, other couples begin to join the bride and groom. First, Mia and Garrett. Then, Isabel and Drake, him towering over her so much, it almost looks funny to see them together, especially with that round basketball of a belly she’s sporting in that tight dress. I can tell by the way he’s holding her that he’s literally taking some of her weight off her feet, and she beams up at him before pulling his mouth down to hers for a loving kiss. I thought it would be weird to see them together after knowing her as Hunter’s wife for so long, but it’s not. It’s as if they were in a poly relationship this whole time and nothing’s changed.
“Can I have this dance?” a deep familiar voice rumbles in my ear from behind me.
I spin around and stare at Beau with his perfectly coiffed locks, disarming bright blue eyes and skin tone so perfectly sun-kissed, it looks good enough to taste.
“I think that’s a little risky, don’t you?”
He’s wearing a smug, tight-lipped smile as he shakes his head. “Dancing with you is not a risk. Letting a beautiful woman stand alone at the edge of a dance floor, that’s a risk. Letting people think you’re available…also a risk. Wasting this opportunity, risk. None of which I’m willing to take.”
He curves his fingers around my wrist, gently pulling me toward the dance floor. Quietly, so no one can hear, he whispers, “Ma’am, please don’t make me beg.”
Finally, to avoid causing a scene, I relent, letting him take me to the middle of the floor and wrapping my arms around his neck. I feel too vulnerable, too exposed. But his warm eyes settle me, and I stare into them, finding that comfort of us I enjoyed earlier. Then, I simply drown out the party around us and let him lead me into a gentle turn around the dance floor.
“But I do enjoy you begging,” I whisper.
“I know you do,” he replies with a smile. For the most part, we look friendly. We aren’t kissing like Drake and Isabel. We aren’t pressed hard against each other like Charlie and Emerson, and Beau’s hand is nowhere near my ass like Garrett’s is to Mia’s.
“Is it bad that I want to drag you inside and bury my face up that dress of yours?”
With wide eyes, I quickly glance around to be sure no one heard us. Luckily, everyone is too engrossed in their own partners to care about the filthy words coming from Beau’s mouth.
“Stop it,” I reply, but he only grins. My resolve starts to crumble when he looks at me like that. “Meet me in the office in ten minutes,” I reply, just as the song ends. He laughs to himself as we resume our charade of just being barely friends. With polite smiles, we part, each going in different directions. Then I watch as he heads toward the house. When one of the caterers passes by with a tray of champagne flutes, I quickly snatch one and throw it back in a rush.
I have a nice little buzz as I go in the same path Beau took, only a few minutes ago. The only people inside are the caterers and a few people in line for the bathroom. Quickly, I evade them as I make my way to Emerson’s office on the other side of the house.
Am I being reckless and stupid…and maybe a bit petty too? Yes. Very much so. But I don’t care. If Beau wants to rebel against his father on his wedding day…and he’d like to make me come in the process, then I approve of this plan.