by Nia Arthurs
I give her the side-eye. When hell freezes over.
She shrugs slim shoulders and bats her eyelashes.
Puppy dog eyes. Nice try.
I’ve caved to that expression enough times to know when she’s playing me.
“I don’t trust you.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll try to stop the wedding.”
Ariya laughs—a knowing and guilty cackle. “What could I possibly do?”
“Object in front of everybody.”
Her eyes brighten. “Would that work?”
“You’ll never know because you won’t be there.”
She throws herself flat on the bed and sighs loudly. “Teale… my love. How could you do this to me?”
I grin. My best friend, Teale, is tying the knot today. Zania, a cute pastry chef with enough sass to handle a bastard like her fiancé, has Teale wrapped around her little finger.
I’ve never seen him so devoted to someone.
My sister’s little crush will have to die a miserable death because Teale’s head over heels.
Ariya sighs again.
When she sees I’m not buying her act, she straightens. “Aren’t you supposed to be there now?”
“I’m waiting for Mom to get here. She’s watching you.”
“You called her all the way from Morocco?”
“I thought you’d love seeing her after all this time.”
“I do love it, but…”
“What?”
“I’m eleven and a half. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’d leave you alone, except I like this house. I don’t want to see it in rubble when I get back.”
She rolls her eyes.
She’s not even a teenager yet, but she’s so damn good at that.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “We’re out of milk.”
“I’ll get more tomorrow.” Living with a kid is an adjustment. I usually skip breakfast. Sometimes lunch too.
I can’t do that with my sister here.
Ariya cups her chin in her hands. Tilts her head. Brown eyes peer at me. “Why do you think Dad hasn’t called yet? It’s been a week since I left that stupid academy.”
“Same as always. He’s busy.”
“Who is she this time?”
I pin my lips together to keep from laughing. People think kids are naïve, but they’re way smarter than we give them credit for.
“Not sure. I’m checking Page Six every few days just in case.” I don’t sugar coat with Ariya. She’d see right through the B.S. anyway.
My sister presses three fingers to her forehead. “Gosh, he’s so embarrassing.”
“Can’t argue there.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say a word to Mom.”
“I know you won’t.” I fix my cuff links in the mirror. “Not that she’d care.”
The doorbell rings.
I drop my hands. “That must be her.”
Ariya scoots off the bed and dashes through the corridor yelling, “Mommy!”
I follow sedately behind.
Ariya throws the door open and jumps into Mom’s arms. Their laughter travels back to me, warming my chest.
I’d die for those two ladies.
In a heartbeat.
“Did you cut your hair?” Ariya gasps, pawing at Mom’s short bob.
Pale fingers, nails painted coral (as always), feather the black tresses. “I thought it was time for something new.”
Ariya slides down. Lands on the ground. Her grin could light up a room.
I lean in and kiss Mom’s cheek. “You look fantastic.”
“I know.” She chuckles happily. Blue eyes sparkle.
They didn’t use to.
Not before.
But as soon as Mom left the house and started doing charity work all over the world, I saw the light seep back into her gaze.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up from the airport.”
She waves away my apology. “I’m sorry I took so long to get here. I missed my babies.” She squeezes my cheek. “You look handsome.”
“He’s going to Teale’s wedding.” Ariya levels me an accusing glare.
I shrug. “I’m the best man.”
“Then you should be there before the wedding begins.” She lightly shoves my shoulder. “Hurry up and go. And tell Teale to bring his beautiful wife around while I’m in the city.”
“They’re going to the Bahamas after the reception so…”
“La la la! I’m not listening!” Ariya covers her ears.
I grab my wallet and keys from the table in the foyer and point at her. “Behave.”
She sticks her tongue out.
I chuckle and wave at Mom.
Five minutes later, I’m in my car, speeding down the highway.
I stop at a red light.
My phone rings.
It’s Teale.
Damn. He’s going to chew me out.
I slip my ear buds in and answer. “I’m almost there.”
That’s true. Ish.
“Thank God. We thought something might have happened to you too.”
“Too?” The light changes.
I ease my brown loafers on the gas.
“What happened?”
“Chandra and Ollie got into an accident.”
I stiffen. I’m not close with Teale’s brother and his wife, but I’ve met them a couple times. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, they’re fine. It’s a fender bender. They’re at the hospital getting checked out and dealing with police statements. Zania’s freaking out over here. And with you not showing up either—”
“I’ll be there. I promise.” I speed up. Listen to the engine open and roar through the air.
“What a freaking disaster. We’re down a maid-of-honor.” He exhales loudly. “Whatever. We’ll figure it out by the time you get here. Just… don’t get into an accident, okay? We can’t take anymore surprises today.”
“Got it. I’ll drive carefully.” I hang up.
Focus on the road.
I can hear the stress in Teale’s voice. Which is probably because Zania’s stressed. I know he’d get married to her in a courthouse, but he wanted to give her the wedding of her dreams.
There’s nothing Teale wouldn’t do for that woman. Which isn’t his typical style. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I guess that’s the power of love. It can turn sane people into fools.
Not that I’m against a little insanity if the right one comes along…
My mind trips to Kayla.
To how I left things on the edge.
Teetering on the brink of something epic.
Greatness slipping through my fingers.
I regret not getting her number. But, under the circumstances, there was no time. Ariya’s life was on the line. No way in hell would I ignore my sister just to bang someone—beautiful and intriguing as they may be.
That’s a move my dad would make.
So that automatically kills it for me.
But I still…
I don’t know.
I wish I’d gotten a last name at least. So I could look her up. Use Teale’s coding superpowers to hunt her down and finish what we started.
It’s a lost cause now.
Maybe that bridge wasn’t meant to be crossed.
I push Kayla out of my head and focus on not getting into an accident.
A few minutes later, I spot the little church. After parking, I rush through the wide double doors.
Every pew is filled.
And segregated.
On one side, black women dressed in colorful gowns dip their heads, drawing the eye to their extravagant hats and fluttering hand-held fans.
On the other, Caucasians in nude tones squirm in obvious discomfort at the black Jesus hanging from the giant cross in front of the stage.
As far as I understand it, this is Zania’s grandmother’s church. She insisted they have the ceremo
ny here and Zania didn’t want to say no to her.
It’s clear that some folks are more at home than others.
I jerk my gaze away from the sanctuary and spot a side-door. Assuming it leads to where the wedding party is supposed to gather, I ease inside.
Step forward.
Right into a ball of white satin and fluff.
The petite woman in the dress pushes the material down far enough for me to get a look at her face.
Dark skin. Big brown eyes. Beautiful smile.
Zania.
“Teale, thank God!” She grabs me and starts tugging me the other way. “I was just about to head outside and kidnap anyone in a suit.”
“Am I that late?”
She cuts me a dark look over her shoulder.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s been a heck of a day already. I kind of just want it to be over.” We rush down a dark hallway.
“That’s not something a bride should say on her wedding day.”
“I’m marrying the perfect guy. The rest doesn’t matter.”
I lower my voice as we approach another door. “Teale’s not here. You don’t have to lie.”
That gets me a laugh. “I got the perfect guy for me.” She smiles that I’m so in love grin and throws the door open. “They’re lining up out there. You know the drill, right? Just walk to the beat.”
I notice her hiding behind the door. “What are you doing?”
“The groom can’t see the bride before the wedding. Teale’s there with the kids and the maid-of-honor.”
I barely suppress a smirk.
Didn’t take Zania for the superstitious type.
“Go on.” She shoves me.
I stumble out.
Sunlight stabs my eyeballs. From what I can see through the glare, we’re at the west side of the church.
A little girl in a princess-style dress similar to Zania’s is swinging a basket filled with roses from her dark brown arm.
Another kid is there. He’s throwing the pillow (I hope the ring’s not actually on top of it) into the air and catching it in his hands, laughing every time it falls. The breeze tussles his blond hair, which he whips out of his blue eyes with a shake of his head.
Must be the flower girl and the ring bearer.
A few feet ahead, Teale is shaking his arms out at his side and dancing from one foot to the next like a football player preparing for the big game.
The groom.
I grin and head toward him when a woman standing off to the side catches my eye.
She’s wearing a burgundy off-the-shoulder gown. The dress hugs her body like a glove. Narrow waist. Flared hips. The daring slit way up her thigh flashes just enough to get my engines revving.
Long black hair, bone-straight, cascades down her bare shoulders and touches the suspended sleeve of her dress. Lips I’d recognize anywhere are no longer red but a soft, compelling pink.
I stop dead.
The scrape of my shoes against loose rocks draws everyone’s attention.
The woman’s eyes swerve to mine.
Surprise floods them.
Perfect lips part to release a gasp.
Kayla.
Seven
Kayla
I told Zania choosing me to be her maid-of honor would be a bad idea.
I’m the matchmaker who tried to get her married to someone else. Which is what she paid me to do, but still…
I’ve kept in touch. We’re amicable. Casual friends.
Close enough to be invited to her wedding.
Not close enough to be in all her pictures, holding the maid-of-honor bouquet.
But she insisted. Begged me to take Chandra’s place.
Got teary-eyed.
Desperate.
I said yes.
Why did I say yes?
Silver eyes take me in.
I should have said no.
A smirk tugs at sexy pink lips.
One of Zania’s other friends could have done this.
A hand casually slips into the pocket of his tailored, forest green pants.
Cobie. Cobie could have taken my place. She could have walked up with her baby attached to her breast.
Screw everyone who had a problem with that.
Butterflies take off in my stomach, fluttering and storming as Brendon—A.K.A. the guy from the bar—approaches me.
Tall and cocky and so damned gorgeous.
He stole my breath in a business suit.
He’s doing the same in that forest-green blazer that sets off his pale skin perfectly. The sun forms a golden halo around his jet-black hair. Glints in his silver eyes.
Did it just get hotter out here?
“We meet again,” he says.
I feel my eyes trying to roll up into my skull and force myself to breathe.
That voice…
Mercy. I forgot how deep it was. Like he’s dipping low in his chest to bring out the sound.
My imaginations about him have nothing on the real thing.
My breath’s gone.
I can’t even dream of speaking.
Brendon’s half-smirk blooms into a full grin.
My heart twists with an overwhelming kind of desire.
The promise left unspoken and unfulfilled in the bar whispers between us now.
I’d admit it to no one, but I loved the idea of a night with him.
Loved the bubbling taste of it on my tongue.
The way I’d thought about him when I went to sleep.
The way I’d pretended, in my dreams, that I was free to be with him—even if it was just a cheap imitation that lasted till dawn.
“Brendon.” Teale jogs over. A wide smile splits his tan face. Blue eyes beam with joy. “You made it.”
“Barely.”
“You had us worried.”
“Your soon-to-be-wife already read me the riot act.”
“I bet she did.” Teale chuckles.
His cheeks are red.
Not from shyness.
From excitement.
I’ve never seen a man more eager to make a woman his.
“Kayla,” Teale swings to face me and gestures to Brendon, “this is my best man and best friend—although I’m sure, most days, he regrets that title.”
“You’d be right.” Brendon chuckles.
“Bren, this is Kayla Montgomery. She’s a world-class matchmaker and Zania’s emergency maid-of-honor.”
“We’ve—”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I thrust my hand out before Brendon can admit that we’ve met.
An eyebrow arches.
I shake my head slightly. I’ve never seen you before in my life until today.
A corner of his lips tilts up. “Pleasure’s mine.”
His voice rumbles over me.
He takes my hand and turns it over. Presses a light kiss to my knuckles.
My heart thuds.
Everywhere buzzes with nervous energy.
My head fills with ideas.
Most involving his lips.
And other parts of my body.
I must be blushing because Brendon’s grinning wide. Knowingly. Like he sees every dirty thought that just flew through my head.
I tug my hand out of his.
Glance away.
Teale smacks Brendon on the shoulder. “Dude, don’t be weird.”
Light music tinkers through the air.
Teale straightens and grabs the lapels of his jacket. “They’re ready.”
Wait.
I’m supposed to walk up with him?
“Teale…”
He doesn’t hear me. Or he’s pretending not to. The tech guru spins around and marches toward the front of the church. The little boy and girl follow in his footsteps.
I glance up at Brendon.
He bends his elbow.
I swallow back my nerves. Inch my fingers over the material of his jacket.
It’s Soft. Smooth. Expensive.
&n
bsp; Like the fragrance rolling off him.
“I’m not going to bite,” he whispers.
“Huh?”
He takes my hand. Drapes it over his. “There. That’s better.”
My heart pounds harder.
My gaze snags on his lips.
A deep breath does jack to slow my pulse.
I’m stuck with this.
I’m stuck with him.
At least until the ceremony’s over.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed,” I hiss.
Brendon wraps his hand around the fingers trapped in the crook of his elbow. He rubs the top of it with his thumb. Then the space between my thumb and forefinger.
My body’s on the verge of convulsing.
If that was supposed to calm me down…
“Better?” Brendon looks down at me—not that far; I’m in heels—like I’m the only woman in the world.
The only woman he’ll ever need.
I feel kind of light-headed.
Is this what they call swooning?
No, I’m almost thirty-years old.
I don’t swoon.
And Brendon doesn’t need me. He doesn’t even know me. I’m a coulda-been-a-one-night stand. An interesting conversation over a cold brew. A maybe-but-we’ll-never-know-now.
“Let’s get this over with,” I mumble.
The sun is killing me.
It’s too damn hot.
He chuckles. Soft and seductive. “Tell me something. Is it the season or just weddings in general that make you miserable?”
I see the church door opening. Teale marching in to the music.
“Excuse me?”
“You were miserable at a bachelorette party. Now, you’re miserable at a wedding ceremony. I’m starting to see a pattern here.”
Teale’s halfway down the aisle.
That’s our cue.
“Don’t act like you know me.” I walk forward.
Slowly.
One-two-three-four.
Step on the two. Land on the four.
To the beat.
Smile for the crowd.
Watch fifty eyes turn to me.
“Maybe not, but I’d like to.”
My smile twitches.
I force my cheek muscles to hold it up. Keep it in place.
He’s just messing with me.
“If you were so interested, you wouldn’t have run off that night.”
He doesn’t answer.
I’m not expecting him to.
It’s too late for that.
We’re at the front of the sanctuary. My hand slips out of his. We walk our separate ways—him beside the groom and me on the opposite end waiting for the bride.
