by Gina Azzi
“We’re breakfasting with you guys, and then us girls are heading over to The Mackey House to see the bride,” I inform my brothers, gratefully accepting a mug of coffee from Evie.
“So soon? The wedding’s not until five.” Jax’s eyebrows dip in confusion.
Taylor sighs and pats his shoulder. “We need time to glam. To drink mimosas and talk about this one,” she says, jerking her thumb toward Denver, “and to take a lot of pictures of ourselves.”
“Ah, yes.” Jax nods in mock understanding. “The glamming.”
Evie giggles, swatting Jax as he pulls her in for a kiss. “Not too much makeup, okay? I like you best when you look like you,” he tells her quietly, as she reaches up to kiss him.
I snort, plopping down on a kitchen chair and blowing on my coffee.
Tonight, I’m going full glam, all hair and makeup. Sometimes living fearlessly requires a coat of armor and false eyelashes and contouring will provide the shield I need.
17
Finn
“You look beautiful,” I say, as Sierra stares at her reflection in the old-fashioned oval mirror in the corner of the suite she’s getting ready in.
She turns at the sound of my voice and offers me a genuine smile, her face radiant, her entire being glowing with happiness. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be with all the boys drinking bourbon and shooting cans or something.”
“Shooting cans?” I raise my eyebrows and step farther into the room.
She laughs, her shoulders dropping. “I have no idea what the traditions are here but every time Denver tells me a story, it always involves a bottle of Jim Beam and a rifle. So stereotypical, I know, but his stories are hysterical.”
“Are we talking about the same guy?” I ask, teasing her. Everyone knows Denver Kane is a completely different man with Sierra than he is with anyone else. Always serious and surly, the giant of a man loosens up around my cousin, constantly kissing her and beaming at her with pride.
“Stop! Den’s funny. Sometimes.” She grins at me. “So, no bourbon and cans, then. What are you up to?”
“Just wanted to check in on the bride.” I look around the room. “Where are all your ladies-in-waiting?”
“Bridesmaids? They’re coming. Should be here any minute.”
My chest tightens in anticipation at the thought of seeing Daisy. She’s different around her family back in Georgia. I saw glimpses of it when I spent Christmas with the Kanes, the way she laughs with Evie and Taylor, jokes around with her brothers, curls up on the couch in fuzzy socks. In Edinburgh, she’s sleek sophistication and sharp professionalism. Her pencil skirts are always pressed, her fingernails always painted, her hair perfectly styled. But at home, she’s the down-to-Earth, girl-next-door I met years ago and thought was cute. I just never realized how much that cuteness would grow on me.
“Looking for Daisy?” my cousin prods, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I duck my head sheepishly.
“Why don’t you just ask her out? Like, for real. And try having an, I don’t know, adult relationship.” Sierra asks slowly, her eyes sparking with mischief. “It’s so obvious you’re into her.”
“It’s not like that. We’ve got a good thing going between us. Besides, who says I don’t want to try an adult relationship?” I make air-quotes around the phrase.
“Do you?” Sierra asks seriously.
I shrug, biting back the grin that threatens to break loose at Daisy really being my girl.
“Oh my God. You so do!” Sierra squeals, giving me her full attention.
“We’ll see.” I agree noncommittally, not wanting to have this conversation with Sierra before I have it with Daisy.
“Uh-huh.” Sierra turns back toward the mirror.
“I just don’t want things to end awfully.”
“What if they don’t end at all?” Sierra challenges me, echoing Uncle James. Her black eyes are intent on my face. “Besides, if they end badly because you’re in a relationship or they end badly because you’re in a fake relationship with real feelings, what’s the difference? It’s still the same ending, just with a different label.”
“When did you get so smart?”
“Please.” She waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve always been smart. You guys just weren’t catching on.”
* * *
“Let’s drop this for now. Today is your wedding day. I wanted to see you, see how you’re feeling.”
Sierra looks at me in the reflection of the mirror. Tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder, she says, “If you don’t make a move to make Daisy yours, it’s going to end awfully. Eventually, she’s either going to place you firmly in the friend zone, and you’ll never be able to make your way out of it, or she’s going to move on with someone else. And I really don’t think you’ll like either of those outcomes. Which is why you should make sure you’re the guy moving forward with her.”
I huff out a breath, pinching the bridge of my nose in irritation at the thought of Daisy moving on with anyone. I avoid my cousin’s gaze as she continues to chatter about her wedding day, officially letting me off the hook now that she made her point.
Minutes later, the laughter of female voices floods the foyer, and Callum pulls me from Sierra’s room before I have the opportunity to lay eyes on Daisy.
I know we’ll have plenty of time later to be together.
But suddenly, I’m desperate to see her, to run my fingers over the smooth silk of her skin, and feel the tickle of her breath as she whispers in my ear. I want to breathe in her floral scent and unzip the back of her gown. Jesus, I even want to hold her in my arms and twirl her across the dance floor.
Images of Daisy plague my mind as I throw back a bourbon with the guys.
Questions I always dismissed are suddenly at the forefront.
The questions have never been so appealing before.
Or so terrifying.
“How long does it take them to get ready?” Denver asks a couple hours later as we hang out in the back of the manor, some of the guys shooting at clay pigeons.
Sierra was right; the traditions are shaping up to include a lot of Jim Beam and some rifles.
“It’s called glamming,” Jax clarifies.
“Kate spent a ridiculous amount of time in hair and makeup on our wedding day,” Aaron throws out.
“Where is Kate anyway? I thought she was coming,” Lachlan says.
A shadow passes over Aaron’s face at the question, and I wince, hoping no one else noticed it. But when I catch Carter’s sidelong glance, I know he did. Soon, everyone will know that things between my brother and his wife are falling apart. I just hope it’s not today.
“She had a last-minute conference invitation that she didn’t want to pass up,” Aaron answers, turning away from the group and pulling a can of Coke out of a nearby cooler. Popping the tab, he takes a long swig, his eyes staring into the distance.
“At least we got Olivia,” Liam says, lightening the mood at the mention of my adorable niece.
“She’d be heartbroken to miss her flower girl duties.” Aaron manages a wry smile.
“You ready for today, man?” Jax changes the subject, turning to his brother. As the focus shifts from Aaron to Denver, I notice the way my brother’s shoulders relax, how the pinch between his eyebrows smooths out.
Before I have time to ask him how he’s holding up and if he needs anything, the girls wander outside and I catch my first glimpse of Daisy.
She looks stunning in the navy chiffon gown, a strapless design that shows off expanses of her flawless skin, the toned muscles of her arms and shoulders, and the graceful slope of her neck. A simple diamond pendant hangs on a white gold chain and while it’s dainty, it’s also distracting as hell, immediately drawing my attention. Her hair is pulled back from her face, highlighting her cheekbones and the brightness of her eyes.
She’s beautiful.
Elegant.
Classy.
I take a step towar
d her, my eyes drinking her in, a smile already plastered to my face. Her gaze meets mine and heat flares in her eyes, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. She lifts a hand in a small wave and my grin grows. Focusing solely on Daisy, the rest of the people fade into the background as I approach her.
Tonight, I intend to make her mine. For real. For keeps.
18
Daisy
He looks sharp. And sexy. And too damn delicious to be real.
Big surprise there.
My heart rate accelerates in my chest as my eyes latch onto Finn.
He grins at me and I wave, my heart dropping to my toes at the sight of him walking toward me. It’s only been one day since we’ve spent any real time together and I miss him. I miss the way he makes me laugh and his joking quips. I miss the serious line of his mouth when he studies my face and how he checks in from time to time to see if I’m homesick.
With his neatly styled hair, his clean-shaven face, and his bright blue eyes, one look from him cuts the distance between us until I’m lost in his gaze, drowning in all the things I think his eyes say that his lips haven’t.
“Girl, you got it bad,” Taylor whispers next to me, nudging me with her elbow, until I’m forced to turn away from Finn. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” I stall.
“That he was into you.”
“I don’t know. We’re…casual.” I admit. Even now, even with Finn sleeping in my bed and taking me out on dates, we’re not in an official relationship. There hasn’t been any talk about him being my boyfriend or his telling his family we’re a couple. We’re just…us.
“Whatever it is that’s holding him back is on him, not you. But know that he’s coming for you. The question is when.”
“When did you get so smart with guy advice?”
“When I finally saw the real deal,” she admits, her eyes finding Carter in the huddle of guys out on the lawn. “Meeting Carter, getting to know him, it made me realize how many stupid, childish head games the guys before him played. And it’s not worth it. Because when you meet the right man, he’s going to come for you regardless of all the things holding him back.” She smiles at me, her fingers playing over the thick, blonde waterfall braid cascading over her shoulder.
“We’ll see.”
A loud whistle cuts the air, claiming our attention. “Where’s the bride?” Jax calls out.
“She can’t see the groom before the wedding. It’s bad luck!” Evie responds, walking over to Jax as he tucks her under his arm.
“We’re here to take some photos with you guys before the ceremony,” Taylor explains, walking over to the group.
Olivia slips her hand into mine as I smile down at her. “You ready for some more photos?”
She nods, her blonde curls bouncing. “I’m really good at cheesing.”
“You’re the best cheeser,” I agree, tugging her along as Finn falls into step beside me. His pinkie finger grazes mine and I bite my lip at the physical contact, every nerve in my body hyper aware of his presence, his closeness.
The photographer gestures us closer and poses us for a series of photos.
Even though I smile for the camera and appear carefree, my body is in tune with every move Finn makes. The shift of his stance, the barely noticeable brush of his knuckles against the back of my arm, the scent of his cologne, all of it engulfs me, consumes me.
When he steps behind me, pressing the length of his body against mine, and his breath flutters over the shell of my ear in a simple whisper of “you’re beautiful,” I hang onto the promise I detect in his tone.
And focus on that for the rest of the photo session.
My best friend and eldest brother marry in a short, sweet, and simple ceremony in front of the beaming smiles of their closest family and friends. Everything about their wedding, from the beautiful lace hugging Sierra’s growing belly to the hand-crafted cuff links adorning Denver’s wrists, is an expression of them and their love for each other.
Jenni reads the poem by e.e. Cummings “I carry your heart,” and I find myself growing teary eyed at the beautiful sentiments. While Sierra’s father decided not to attend the wedding, his mother, Sierra’s Tota, shares a traditional wedding story popular among their tribe, the Navajo. Carter reads the passage “On Marriage” from Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, a worn and well-loved book on my mom’s bookshelf.
When the minister declares Denver and Sierra husband and wife, Den’s hands come up to frame her face as she reaches on her toes to kiss him. We all whistle and cheer, the elegance of the ceremony seamlessly transforming into the entertainment of the reception.
The first dance is Rascal Flatts’ “Bless the Broken Road” and when Finn’s fingertips press into the small of my back, nudging me toward the dance floor, I don’t protest. I don’t think about the fact that we haven’t publicly shared that we’re kinda, sorta dating. And that after this dance, everyone in both of our families is sure to know. I don’t analyze his motives or second-guess his attraction.
Instead, I allow myself the moment. This one night to be caught up in Finn’s arms, to savor the heat of his skin as it seeps into mine. He guides me around the dance floor, his movements natural, his steps confident. And I melt into him, into this, until I’m too love-drunk to come up for air.
“Are you having fun?” His voice is a low rumble, and while I want to pull back to read the expression on his face, I don’t. Maybe it’s better to allow myself to think this moment is more than it is. If I’m going to be bold tonight, I can’t start second-guessing myself now.
“Yes. The ceremony was beautiful, and Sierra and Denver are so happy.”
“They’re a great couple.”
I nod, the bottom of my chin scraping against the luxurious fabric of Finn’s suit.
“At first, I was surprised. They seemed so different,” he continues, and I hang onto every syllable as he turns me again around the dance floor. “But I’m starting to think maybe that whole opposites-attract thing is true.”
I close my eyes, wondering if my personality is similar or opposite to Finn’s. In some ways, we are alike, both of us ambitious, career-focused, and family-oriented. In other ways, we’re polar opposites. While I’ve been known to give a guy hell and speak my mind freely, around Finn, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Meanwhile, he gives me nothing to work with but amused smirks and playful glances. As far as words go, he’s a steel vault and his actions are too closed off to read into.
“Are you normally attracted to women like you?” I ask anyway, still trying to understand the intent behind his words.
He chuckles, infusing lightness into the moment. His hand slides lower until his fingertips are pressing into the small of my back, nudging me closer against him. I shiver from his touch and feel his lips curve into a smile against the side of my head.
“I don’t normally keep a woman around long enough to learn what she’s like.”
His words cause a sliver of doubt to worm its way into my mind and my thoughts jump into overdrive. Is he trying to indirectly tell me that he doesn’t want to keep me around? That I’m reading more into our non-relationship than exists?
Carter was right. Sierra was right. Eventually, someone always wants more. Let the record show, I’m pretty positive that someone is me.
The song changes, the beat still slow. Several couples leave the dance floor, but Finn doesn’t let go of my hand or remove his hand from my back, and we naturally glide into the next tune.
“I date guys opposite of me,” I volunteer the information freely, remembering the lacrosse player that broke my heart in college and the misplaced surfer I swore I was in love with in high school. It’s true, I only ever dated the emotionally unavailable.
Finn’s fingers dig into my hips, causing me to pull away. A flash of irritation blazes in his blue eyes, and I suck in a breath, knowing my words affected him and wondering what’s changed? Finn’s just as emotionally unavailable as Jordan and Kellan were.
“Do you think I’m opposite of you?” he asks seriously, his eyes flickering from my eyes to my lips like he wants to kiss me.
And God, I wish he would already.
My tongue darts out, swiping across my bottom lip, as I tilt my head, considering his question. “Sometimes.”
His dance movements slow until we’re barely swaying, more like standing, in the center of the dance floor. Around us, elegant floral arrangements – containing calla lilies - bloom, and couples in dark suits and colorful dresses spin. But for Finn and me, the air tightens, the outside world drops away, and it’s just us.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” His voice is gruff, a pinch forming in the center of his eyebrows.
“Neither. It just is.” I shrug, feigning casual, even though my heart pounds in my eardrums at Finn’s reaction.
His face contorts, bewilderment shadowing his features as he slowly begins to dance again. As soon as he pulls me closer, I can no longer read his expression which is a damn shame. How else am I supposed to pluck out any important details from this conversation?
I’m about to ask him if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing, us being different, when I notice Olivia and Aaron over Finn’s shoulder. Aaron’s face darkens, his expression twisting, as he glares at his cell phone before dropping it into his pocket. I stiffen automatically, my feet slowing.
“Daisy?”
“Hey, is everything okay with your brother?” I ask instead, my attention shifting fully to Aaron and Olivia as Aaron squats down in front of his daughter and explains something to her. Her sweet face morphs into one of sadness, and suddenly I’m not interested in having this conversation with Finn as much as I am in making sure that Aaron and Olivia are okay.
Finn twirls me then, turning our bodies so he can see his brother. Whatever he sees causes his own expression to morph into one of worry before turning into a flash of anger.
“Can I cut in?” Carter asks at that moment, and Finn nods curtly, placing my hands in my brother’s, his eyes still trained on his brother.
