I exit the store and stride toward the field of trees, where Candice and Charlie’s wedding ceremony will be held. The reception is happening near the front of the tree farm, in a large grassy area where Candice held a very successful fundraiser last year. That’s probably what put the idea in her head. That and the woman just flat out loves Christmas more than any human should.
“Don’t you clean up nice?”
I turn to find one of my fellow employees smiling at me. Her name is Kendra. She’s pretty damn cute and has an impressive rack. Not that I’d base dating choices on a stacked rack, but you can’t help but notice her chest, if you get what I’m sayin’.
“Thanks,” I say, smiling back at her. “You about off your shift?”
“Sure am. What about you?” She usually works in the tent, selling wreaths and flocked trees. She only just started a few weeks ago, and she’s a good worker. Keeps busy.
Doesn’t necessarily keep her nose out of trouble though.
“Yeah, but I’m staying for the wedding,” I answer.
“Lucky you,” she drawls, glancing around as three people carrying giant floral arrangements go scurrying by. “How’d you luck out on a wedding invite?”
“I’ve worked here a while.” No need to give her a bunch of details.
“Sucking up to the boss is a good idea then, huh?” She grins, and I’m immediately put off by her statement. I don’t suck up to Charlie. I’ve worked here for a couple of years and I do a damn good job. I consider Charlie one of my friends, and I hope he feels the same.
“I don’t suck up to Charlie,” I say, my tone flat.
“Ah, oops. I think I offended you. Sorry.” She leans over and punches me lightly in the upper arm. “You got a hot date tonight?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Want one?” She raises her brows, a suggestive smile on her lips.
“Sorry.” I smile and start walking backward, suddenly desperate to get away from her. “I need to go help set up.”
“That’s why you’re invited to the wedding, you know,” she calls after me as I turn tail and start walking briskly. “They’re just using you for hired help!”
Annoyance flashes through me, but I try to forget what Kendra said. I can’t, though. That last insult she tossed at me makes me feel like shit. Here I am, wearing fancy clothes and setting up chairs for the ceremony, and it sucks, you know? Maybe I am being used as hired help. Not like Charlie and I do stuff together outside of work. Though I was invited to his bachelor party, and that was a good time.
In fact, it was a great time. At one point, I had some hot stripper grinding on my knee, her tits in my face, and I was drunk as hell, laughing my ass off. And I wasn’t even the future groom.
Glancing around, I slowly realize I’m not the only one who’s setting up white folding chairs. So is Victoria. And their brother, Russ. Well, shit, there’s also their parents. The whole damn Sullivan family is here helping out, and that makes me feel a lot better.
See Kendra, I want to say. I’m not just the hired help.
I’m part of the family.
We’re halfway through the ceremony before I realize Miss Fancy Pants is sitting across the aisle in the bride’s section, one row up from mine. I recognize her dark head. Her perfect profile. Her full lips form a slight pout, and they’re slicked with deep red lipstick. I’ve never been one to be drawn to makeup on a woman, but those lips are sexy. Their pouty shape is even sexier.
I’m impressed by how she sits perfectly still. Doesn’t fidget at all. While I’m over her squirming in my chair, wishing the ceremony was already over. I’m impatient, and I’ve never been one able to stay in one place for too long. That’s probably why I enjoy this job so much. I’m all over the place throughout my shift, constantly moving.
Losing interest in the ceremony, I turn all of my focus on Amelia. The sun is slowly setting—they lucked out that it didn’t rain—and the light casts across her face, giving her a golden glow. She swings her head, subtly flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder, and I can’t help but wonder what it feels like. It looks slick and soft. I wouldn’t mind grabbing a handful in my fist and give it a gentle tug. Pull her back a little so I could press my mouth to those pouty lips.
Would she like that? She’s definitely not my type, but she’s the sort of woman a man wants to grab hold of and dirty up a little. Smear the lipstick with his mouth. Make a mess of her hair with his hands. Slowly strip her out of that dress—
“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Charles and Candice Sullivan!” the minister suddenly announces, knocking me from my thoughts.
Charlie and Candice raise their linked hands above their heads, shaking them as if in victory. They’re both wearing giant grins, and I clap along with the rest of the crowd, smiling back at them. There are no finer people on this earth than those two. They truly belong together.
The wedding party exits after the newlyweds and then everyone starts to leave, making their way to the tent that was set up in an extremely short amount of time and now houses the reception. I can already hear the strains of music coming from within, and my stomach growls because yet again, I forgot to eat during my shift.
I stand at the end of my row, letting people file past me. Including the beautiful and mysterious Amelia. When she sees me, she does a double take. “You’re a wedding guest?”
She sounds surprised. Huh.
“I’m friends with the bride and the groom,” I say as I fall into step beside her.
“Really? What’s your name?” she asks. “I never did catch it.”
That’s because she never asked.
We exit the aisle and head toward the tent. I suppose I could tell her what everyone calls me around here, but that’s just embarrassing. Especially if I’m trying to impress this woman. So I go with the truth. “Isaac.”
Is that relief on her face? Odd. “Ah, Isaac. A nice, traditional name.”
“I guess.” I shrug.
“You don’t say much, do you?” She sends me an amused look.
Huh. Is she teasing me? “I don’t chatter on and on if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I can tell.” She smiles. “It was a beautiful ceremony, wasn’t it?”
“Definitely,” I say with a firm nod, letting my gaze roam over her. She’s wearing a soft green dress that I’m pretty sure is velvet, and it clings to her lean body in all the right places. She’s tall, with gentle curves, and my hands suddenly itch to touch her. “They make a good couple.”
“They do, don’t they?” A wistful sigh escapes her, and I wonder about it. “I’m happy they found each other.” She glances over at me as we continue walking together.
“So am I.” My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and I rest a hand over it, laughing to hide my embarrassment. “Never did eat lunch today. Was too busy.”
“Whatever they’re serving for the reception, it smells delicious,” Amelia says.
“Yeah, it does. Probably why my stomach is complaining.” I don’t know what else to say. And I’m worried I sound like an idiot, which isn’t like me.
This woman makes me…nervous. And not in a bad way. I just want to impress her so damn bad. I want her to like me. I want her to see something in me.
Is that ridiculous? Probably. Most of the time, I meet a woman and it just…happens between us, or it doesn’t. I don’t try to overly impress. Yeah, I can get tongue tied, but that’s why I remain quiet most of the time. That way, I can’t mess anything up by saying something stupid.
“Lucky for you we’re about to eat.” She wiggles her fingers at me in a cute wave. “See ya around.”
“Maybe on the dancefloor?” I ask like a hopeful idiot.
She sends me—yep, I know it when I see it—a flirtatious look. “If your luck keeps up.”
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face even if I tried.
Chapter 5
Amelia
Isaac is cute. Not necessarily my type, and I have
the distinct feeling he’s a few years younger than me, but cute nevertheless. I like his dark blond hair. And his smile. There’s something very…intriguing about the fact that he doesn’t say much. I like that.
I like it a lot.
Once we go our separate ways inside the reception tent, I’m dazzled by the décor. There are tiny white twinkling lights everywhere, giving the entire tent area a fairytale glow. Lush greenery and deep red roses are on every available open surface, and just by seeing the flowers alone I know a lot of money was spent on this reception. No surprise, considering the Gaineses have a lot of money, and then they go and save money by having everything here at the farm.
Currently the bride, groom and wedding party are outside taking photos. I can’t wait to give my friend a hug and congratulate her. She was beaming throughout the entire ceremony, she was so happy.
What’s that like, finding someone who makes you smile so much your face hurts? I don’t have a clue. Though at one point, I believed I did.
I find a gorgeous table not too far from the entry, where we can sign our name on a giant matte frame that I assume they’ll use for a wedding photo of the two of them. There’s also a seating chart on display. Which is really just a list of the guests written in perfect calligraphy with a number by their name. I spot my number—eight.
“Amelia! There you are.”
I turn to find Stella standing in front of me, her boyfriend—our friend Caroline’s older brother—planted firmly by her side. They make a very attractive couple, especially when they’re decked out in wedding finery.
“Hey guys,” I greet them. “Are you at table eight?”
“We’re at ten,” Stella answers, smiling up at Carter, who’s watching her as if she can walk on water. I can’t help the stab of envy that hits me right in the heart. “Wasn’t the wedding gorgeous? Only Candice would get married at a tree farm.”
“Well, her husband does actually own the tree farm,” I remind them, making both laugh. “What? It’s not that funny. It’s the truth.”
Stella removes herself from Carter’s side and comes a little closer to me, her voice dropping. “Where’s your Jonesie?”
I make a face. I completely forgot all about the mysterious Jonesie. Sort of. “I have no idea.”
Come on. How in the world is Candice supposed to pair me up with this guy when she’s got an entire reception to take care of and hundreds of people to talk to? This meeting with Jonesie is never going to happen.
Though I suppose we will talk to each other since we’re supposed to be at the same table—if he shows up.
Oh dear. That kind of freaks me out.
“I suppose you’ll meet him at your table,” Stella says like she’s read my mind. “We’re going to the bar. Want to come with?”
“Please,” I say. I definitely need a drink to get through this evening. Weddings are kind of depressing to me. My ex and I talked about getting married. Of course we did. We were together for a couple of years. At one point, I believed I’d be the first of my friends to be married.
Now, I’m the farthest thing from marriage, and while I’m not as torn up over it as I was when I went to Caroline and Alex’s wedding, I’m still a little melancholy. The entire moment seems bittersweet. To have what you thought was a solid relationship with a man, at one point so confident it would last forever, only for it to completely fall apart, is very distressing.
It leaves you unanchored. Drifting.
That’s how I feel right now.
I make small talk with Stella and Carter while we wait in line at the bar. Eleanor joins us, a permanent smile fixed on her face thanks to the big guy at her side. Mitch is intimidating when you first meet him, but he’s actually a big ol’ teddy bear who can never seem to tear his gaze from his girlfriend. It’s rather sweet. Even though the look in his eyes is more like he wants to tear her clothes off versus cherish her for life.
Once we have our drinks, we make way to our tables, splitting off when I stop at number eight. None of my friends are sitting with me, which is kind of annoying. Did Candice do that on purpose? Strand me all alone so I would have no choice but to turn to this Jonesie guy for company? If so, that was very sneaky of her.
Arriving at my table, I sit down, smiling at the lovey-dovey couple sitting across from me. They murmur their hellos before dipping their heads close together, speaking in low tones I can’t hear. Currently, they’re the only other ones at the table.
No Jonesie to be found.
I take a big swig of my drink, needing the liquid courage to calm my nerves. Feeling jittery, I open my small black velvet purse to check my phone. Of course, no notifications. Everyone I know and care about, minus my family, is here at this reception right now, and there’s no reason they want to text me or send me a funny meme via Instagram DMs. They’re having fun. With their significant others.
Oooh boy. Sounds like a pity party of one is about to go into full effect.
“No frickin’ way.”
I quickly glance up at the sound of the vaguely familiar male voice to find Isaac standing in front of me, his hands gripping the back of the chair next to mine. “Why did you say that?” I ask him irritably.
I clear my throat. Do my best to rearrange my face so I don’t scowl. I need to quit being so touchy. There’s nothing wrong with this guy. As a matter of fact, he’s very attractive. Especially all dressed up.
“You at this table?” He tips his blond head toward me and I can’t help but smile.
“I am. Are you at table eight too?” Hope flutters in my chest and I tell it to get lost. I don’t need to feel fluttery around this man. Boy. Whatever I should call him. He’s young. Younger than me, I’d almost bet on it.
He nods. “Mind if I sit next to you?”
“Please do,” I say without hesitation. Though that means nothing. I’m just being polite. And it’s nice to see a somewhat familiar face at my table. I was feeling very alone…
And now I don’t.
Isaac pulls the chair out and settles in, his arm brushing against mine, he’s sitting so close. A shiver steals over me, and I exhale a quiet, shaky breath. It’s been a while since I’ve been in male company and I’m just…sensitive. Yes, that’s it.
“You look pretty,” he says, his eyes trailing over me appreciatively.
My skin grows warm from his compliment. The way he looked at me. “Thank you. You clean up nice as well.”
He sits up straighter. “Why, thank you. Not every day I get to dress like this.”
Since he so blatantly checked me out, I return the favor. He has on black pants and a dark gray button-up shirt, with a black tie. He’s completely clean-shaven and though his longish hair is a bit mussed, it’s a good look for him.
A very good look for him.
“Mostly jeans and sweatshirts working around here, I assume?” I ask, recalling the outfit I saw him in when he dropped off our tree.
Not that he looked bad in those jeans. I happened to notice his butt. He has a nice one. He has a nice everything, truth be told.
Look at me. I haven’t enjoyed male company in so long, I’m finding myself drawn to a man who I have nothing in common with except vicinity.
“Yeah. There’s not much reason to ever dress up, you know?” He shrugs. “Just going to make a mess of yourself anyway.”
“You like working at the tree farm?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink. Another couple joins us at our table, and we all say polite hellos before I turn my attention back to Isaac.
To find him already watching me, those pretty blue eyes of his warm and inviting. Perhaps too inviting. “I do. I love it. I’ve been here over three years. Started the summer after I graduated high school.”
That makes him twenty-one. I’m twenty-six. Five years older than him. My ex was a year older than me. I’m not a cougar, but come on. I have no business being with a man who was only thirteen when I graduated high school. He was still in middle school, for God’s sake.
My gaze lands on his broad shoulders. The way his shirt fabric strains across them. The firm line of his jaw. The deep tone of his voice.
There is nothing boyish about Isaac. He is all man.
“It was just a part-time job at first,” Isaac continues. “I thought about leaving a bunch of times, but after a while, I felt like I found my…place.”
I frown, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“I like working outside. Working the land. Hauling heavy shit around—whoops, excuse me.” His cheeks actually turn ruddy, I assume from him saying shit. “I don’t want to be cooped up in an office or building of whatever, wearing a suit and tie every day. I don’t mind dressing up every once in a while, but this isn’t my scene. I’d much rather be outside, breathing in the fresh air.”
Easy for him to say this. He’s still young and doesn’t have to make any hard-or-fast decisions about his future yet. Plus, I’m sure his destiny hasn’t been planned for him. By the time I was aware, I knew I was supposed to help take over the family jewelry business someday. My brother and I are fully expected to run it. We were always told it was our future, and when I tried to rebel against that, I was gently discouraged from pursuing another career.
Lee’s Fine Jewelers is my future. My destiny. I’m a little envious of Isaac’s choices. He can do whatever he wants.
While I’m stuck with something that was never my choice in the first place.
“I suppose I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” I say softly. “If you have the freedom to do what you want, then you should go for it. Very rarely do our jobs bring us joy.”
“Mine does,” he says without hesitation. “Does yours?”
I turn my head so our gazes meet. Lock. His eyes are pale blue. Like the sky in the early spring. When it’s bright and full of promise. That’s what his eyes are telling me.
'Tis the Season for Romance Page 22
