by Cari Quinn
He didn’t know she was charging after him yet. No one did, not even Vicky. She’d just quietly done some research into his address via her contacts—namely Melly—and packed a light bag. Her trip would be a short one since she couldn’t leave the interior design office any more short-staffed than they’d already be with Vic leaving for her honeymoon. But if she left right after the reception, she’d have plenty of time to make the drive and state her case.
Namely that he was being a jackass, and she wasn’t having it.
It wasn’t as if she expected a thousand balloons set off at sunset. She wasn’t looking for a proposal, or an offer to move in together, or anything grandiose. All she wanted was for him to admit he had feelings for her, too, and that he wanted to explore them. Ideally, she’d also convince him that he was a wonderful guy, so much better than he gave himself credit for.
She hoped he didn’t prove her wrong on that score and send her packing before she’d said her piece, but screw it. Being shy and retiring didn’t do anything but keep you out of the game before you’d even had a chance to play. Loving Bryan represented one hell of an adventure, and she was all in.
And if he wasn’t, well, she would deal. She’d just wear him down until he changed his mind. She could be awfully persuasive when she wanted to be.
But before she did any of that, she would watch her best friend since childhood get married. She’d probably do her share of crying during the ceremony, but she was entitled. Best friend privilege. So what if she most likely would weep a little bit for her own dwindling shot at a happy ending? She’d get there. It was going to happen. Now that she’d experienced what it could be like to have that kind of connection with someone, no way in hell was she backing down.
An hour later, she helped Vic fuss with her veil in front of the cheval mirror in the changing room at the back of the church. “You look so elegant. I can’t believe you’re the same girl who mooned the whole boys’ football team after that mud run all those years ago,” Jill teased, stepping back.
“They deserved it. Bunch of clowns booing us because we took too long. Besides, I have a superior ass.”
“You do.”
“We both do.”
Jill bowed her head in a mock prayer. “Thank you yoga for giving us tight buns.”
Vic giggled and grabbed Jill’s hand, pressing it to her stomach and meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I won’t be tight anywhere for much longer.”
Jill’s eyes widened. “No way.”
“Mmm-hmm. Bun in the oven. A little late for the wedding, but hey, better late than never.” Vic grinned. “Guess that explains all those peanut butter and pickle sandwiches I’ve been scarfing down lately. And here I thought I was just broadening my palate.”
Jill pulled her into a hug. “Oh my God. I’m so thrilled for you and Cory.”
They engaged in a little happy dance that involved much squeeing and butt shaking and some barely intelligible high pitched noises. By the end of it, they were both in tears and rubbing at their makeup, which was how Dillon found them when he marched in.
“Uh-oh. The chicks are bawling already.” He wrapped Vic in his arms and gave her a big hug. “Just heard the news from Captain Oblivious. Congratulations, almost sister of mine.”
“Thanks. Sorry we didn’t spill sooner. We’ve only known for a couple of days, but we wanted to let the news settle a bit before we told everyone.”
“Huh. Novel idea, waiting a few days to tell personal news.” Jill raised an eyebrow at Vic, who gave her a sheepishly apologetic glance.
“Hormones. They’re my new excuse for everything. So far it’s working out pretty good.”
“Well, you might want to blame your hormones in advance, because your brother has a surprise for you. He just regrets he’s not here in person to tell you about it.”
Vic lifted her train and followed Dillon to the door. “What surprise?”
Jill trailed after them, smiling as she heard Vic exclaim, “Daddy!”
Bryan had done well. In spite of everything, it was going to be a very good day.
Jill cried a few tears through the father-daughter march down the aisle, and through Cory and Vic’s exchange of vows and first kiss as a married couple. She cried more when she happened to catch the bouquet from the toss at the reception. Seeing Bryan’s teammate Cade standing in for Bryan during the ceremony and blending in with the family—and especially hovering around Melinda—at the reception wasn’t the best, either.
But she laughed just as much, even digging into her raspberry chocolate mousse with gusto as the band started up for the dancing portion of the evening. She had no one to dance with, but that was okay, because she was perfectly happy eating her dessert.
Mmm. Yummy. See, no worries at all. The occasional tear that marred the perfectly smooth surface was from happiness. Today was a great day. And tonight, she’d go after Bryan.
“You good here for a bit?” Vic asked her for about the eleventh time.
Jill blinked away the latest deluge and smiled. “I’m fine. Would you stop fussing over me? Go dance with your husband.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Vic said as she backed toward the makeshift dance floor, her hand firmly in Cory’s. He looked a bit green under his tan—probably a byproduct of being newly married and a father-to-be—but he hadn’t stopped smiling all day.
Jill waved her spoon. “I’ll be here,” she called, shaking her head. Sheesh. She’d thought Vic had been overprotective before. Compared to now, she’d been a walk in the park.
“Shoop” by Salt-N-Pepa came on, and Jill’s head lifted, her eyes narrowing on the DJ to the right of the small stage.
“Good evening ladies and gents,” the DJ said. “I had a special request for this one. Who’s ready to get out there and shake it?”
Not her, that was for sure. In fact, she was fairly certain that song would probably make her nauseous for the rest of her life. She’d been so scared to go out there and wiggle her ass in front of everyone. Only the thought of Bryan being here with her had given her any inclination to dance. But since he was several states away—
“I remember when you didn’t stay seated during this song.”
The voice near her ear made her jump. She turned around, closing her eyes and then opening them again several times when the picture didn’t change. Bryan, in a tuxedo. Bryan holding out a flute of champagne. Bryan staring down at her as if he was inhaling the sight of her as greedily as air.
“How—why—”
“I’ll explain later. First, this is for you.” He handed her the champagne, and then he produced a small white florist’s box. “This, too.”
She shrank back. “No thanks. The first one of those you sent was enough.”
His laughter swam through her bloodstream, heady like the champagne she’d yet to taste. He crouched beside her and laid the box in her lap. “I promise, no more roses.”
“You can keep the cards, too.”
His lips twitched. “No cards, either.”
She accepted the flute and took a small sip, her eyes on his. Then she set it aside and pulled on the ribbon to open the box. Inside sat the smallest violet she’d ever seen, its petals a deep hue of blue that bordered on purple. “A violet?”
“Yeah.” Bryan gripped the chair at her side. “I called Lex and tried to get bluebells, but apparently they’re difficult to get this time of year. She mentioned Dillon’s had some success giving her violets. Not that I need to copy any other dude’s wooing techniques or anything, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. And a wise woman told me once that a gentleman caller should always bring flowers, so I did.” He brushed his fingers over the petals so gently that the tears sprang back into her eyes. “The blue isn’t right. Your eyes are much paler than this. Bluebells would’ve been perfect. But I’ll get them. Just give me time.”
“You want me to give you time?” she echoed, not quite believing what she was hearing.
“Very much so.”
&nbs
p; “What happened to the roses brushoff?” Why was she even asking him anything? She was supposed to be hurtling into his arms, content with whatever scraps of emotion he threw her way. He wanted to be with her, at least for the time being. Good enough, right?
But it wasn’t. She needed more. She needed to know that what she felt, he might feel someday, too. Not necessarily tomorrow or even next year. She just wanted to know the possibility existed—and if it happened, that he wouldn’t run.
Most of all, she needed to know he intended to stick for the long haul, that the crowds and the women and the public adoration wouldn’t diminish his feelings for her. That he wouldn’t forget one day to come home like her dad.
“That was me acting like a bastard.” The word fired something in the depths of his eyes that kindled the heat already growing in her belly. His cologne washed over her, the citrus alighting her senses. She couldn’t help shifting that much closer and lifting her hand to his hair, sifting the soft strands through her fingers.
“God,” he groaned. “You don’t know how I’ve missed having your hands on me.”
“About as much as I’ve missed you,” she responded shakily, transferring her touch to his jaw. He groaned again, and the sound rippled through her system, igniting a million small blazes under her skin. “I’m so sorry about the whole ‘owe me a date’ thing. I didn’t want you to go, and I was so afraid to tell you. I screwed up so badly.”
“Not as much as I did. But we can fix it.” He cupped her hand against his face, curling his fingers around hers.
“I’d packed my bag. I couldn’t stay away from you any longer.”
“What?”
“I was coming to see you tonight. The bag’s in the car.” Tentatively, she smiled. “I optimistically packed my box of condoms. We have a lot left.”
His laughter stunned her into joining him. Then he stood and pulled her into his arms, dragging her up his body until he could frame her face in his hands. His mouth came down hard on hers, hungry and hot. She gave him back as good as she got, sliding her hands into his hair and slipping her tongue between his lips to swirl over his. He made that same needy sound in his throat and hauled her closer, his hands coasting down her back, ever so close to her ass. God, she was already pulsing and wet for him, just from one scorching kiss.
Eventually he had to tear his mouth away to breathe. “Say you’ll give me a chance,” he whispered. “I promise you that you won’t regret it.”
She’d barely nodded when he let her go and crossed the dance floor to speak to the DJ. A moment later, he tapped the microphone and the song stopped. What was he about to do? Make a speech?
“Sorry everyone, we’ll get back to the dancing in a minute. I just wanted to say a few things if you’ll grant me the floor. First, isn’t my sister the most beautiful bride ever?”
Lots of polite clapping, with the occasional foot stomping thrown in.
“She’s going to make a fantastic wife and mother, and I’m so sorry I didn’t get back here in time to see her tie the knot—” He stopped at Vic’s frantic arm motions and coughed. “Oh well, this is awkward. Apparently the baby news wasn’t fully leaked yet. Well, guess what, my sister and her new husband are having a baby. Nope, this wasn’t a shotgun wedding, no matter what you may think.” He coughed again. “Do they even still have those?”
Jill clutched her violet to her belly. Oh boy, this was going downhill fast.
“Anyway, best of luck to the happy couple. Moving on. I have a couple more announcements to make. One I hope might make my sister stop shooting death glares at me. I brought a special guest.” He gestured to a table along the edge of the dance floor, way in the back, and Jill gasped as she recognized Mrs. Townsend. “Vic, I thought our mom should be here for your special day, just like Dad. I hope you know how much we all love you.”
Vic cupped her hands over her mouth and rushed toward the back of the room, eliciting tears and clapping as she went. Jill was so occupied watching Vic’s tearful conversation with her mom that she almost missed the rest of Bryan’s speech.
“I met this woman a long-ass—uh, I mean many years ago. She’s my sister’s best friend, and she tolerates me with about the same level of borderline disgust. In my defense, I only put spiders in her hair that one time.”
Jill grinned as applause broke out around them.
“It turns out that the girl next door sometimes grows up to be the woman who makes you fall in love with her, whether or not you’re ready. She makes me want to be a better person, and I think I am with her. Or I will be, if she agrees to allow me back into her life. I screwed up big time, and now that I’m living here in Haven again, I’ll have plenty of time to get my shit straight. Um, life straight.” He adjusted his bowtie. “This is why I play ball and don’t narrate the news.”
That got the biggest laugh of the night.
“Her name is Jillian St. John, and I love her enough to promise I’ll never call her Jilly Bean again. Except on Easter, because, really, who could resist?” The grin he sent her traveled across the room and straight into her heart, warming her from her chest to her toes and everywhere in between.
Now it was her turn.
Jill crossed the room, clutching her violet to her chest. She didn’t stop until she was at his side. Heart pounding in her ears, she leaned up to kiss him, extending the moment even as the crowd whooped it up. Then she grabbed the microphone out of his hand. “She says she loves you, too, but if you slip up any day but Easter, she’ll tell everyone here about that time you accidentally dropped a carton of eggs down your pants.” She gave him a saucy grin. “Oops, just did.”
Bryan grinned and dragged her against his side. “Sounds like a touchdown to me.”
When the guests returned to their desserts and dancing, he murmured in her ear, “Come outside with me?”
Hearing the tension in the question, she nodded. “Sure.” She frowned at his profile as they walked. “Bry, what about the team? What’s going on?”
“Later.”
“Okay then.” Shaking her head, she let him lead her out the nearest exit.
Once they were outside on the back deck, he moved to the railing and gestured up at the stars. “I asked Vic for advice on how to do this. She suggested I bring you out here, show you some star, then lead you back to the gazebo over there so you’d be impressed with my sense of romance. I almost did, too.”
She took a deep breath of the crisp night air and joined him at the railing. Something else was afoot, even bigger than him declaring to an entire room of family and friends that he loved her.
He loved her.
“You do realize that Cory and Vic hooked up for the first time in that gazebo, right?”
His grimace made her laugh. “I tried to forget. Thanks for reminding me.” He shook his head. “But that’s not why I didn’t do it there. I thought rather than borrowing her ideas for how to convince you to give me a shot, I should come up with some of my own. So I am. Coming up with them, I mean.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Man, I suck at this. Did you hear my speech? Horrific.”
She stepped closer and grabbed his hand. “Are you kidding me? That speech made this the best night of my life.”
Her pulse skipped at the intensity in his eyes. “There’s a reason I’m so terrible at this. Well, besides basic ineptitude. I’ve never loved a girl before. I’ve definitely never carried around a speech I wrote and wore out the paper within twenty-four hours because I folded and refolded it so much.”
If he kept this up, she was going to start crying again. “Bry—”
“Wait. Let me finish.”
Her mouth curved. “I forgot you had a speech. Sorry.”
“Exactly.” His grin flashed before he tensed again. “And I’ve absolutely never asked a girl to marry me when I’ve never even asked her on a regular date with no conditions attached. So I decided I’d offer you my promises now, with an option to seal the deal for real later.”
Promises. W
hat a magical word. “It sounds like you’re suggesting a long-term test drive with an option to buy. Am I right?”
“Yes. Exactly that. I know we’re moving at light speed, but when I sat down and thought about how I felt, the quick timeline didn’t matter.” He exhaled. “I’ve been falling for you for more than ten years. It just took me this past week to finally figure it out.”
She stared up at him, sure she’d imagined this whole scenario. She’d probably face-planted in her mousse during the reception and dreamed this whole thing. “I…uh, I don’t know what to say.”
“I knew it.” He turned around and would’ve walked away if she hadn’t snatched his arm and tugged him back. “No, see, this is why I didn’t bring this up in front of everyone. I didn’t want to put you on the spot. I knew the chances weren’t good you’d agree—who would, after all of this—and I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed in front of everyone when you had to turn me down.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes and caught his cheeks in her hands. “Yes. Let’s make promises to each other.”
“You want to?” He sounded stunned. Or drugged. Maybe both.
“I want to. And if you actually say the rest without cutting yourself off, I’ll make your night in ways you can’t even contemplate while standing outside your sister’s wedding reception,” she teased, shocked by how calm she felt. The more nervous he became, the more her own nerves ebbed away.
This was Bryan, the boy she’d loved forever. Saying the words and making them into a promise reaffirmed how true they’d always been.
“Okay. Okay.” He gazed at her as if he was dumbfounded, then fell silent.
She smiled and wondered how her heart simply didn’t burst through her chest. “Want me to do it?”
“No, I got this.” He swallowed so hard she heard it. “Will you be mine?”
Such a profoundly simple and wonderful question. “Yes,” she whispered, sliding her hands around to the back of his neck to drag him even closer.
Another swallow. “You, ah, you’re sure?”
Her smile grew. “So fucking sure.”
“I don’t have a promise ring for you.”
