If it’s possible to die from laughing too hard, I wouldn’t be standing here today, yet here I am with my face turned toward the end of the aisle as we wait for the maid of honour to make an appearance.
Travis drank a lot that night. I had too, because in the aftermath of that day, Jake left. Whatever particular conversation he wanted to have hadn’t happened. I cancelled the band’s commitments for two weeks because we needed a break, and he’d subsequently packed a bag and disappeared. Where he went, I don’t know. Jake never answered my calls or returned my messages. He simply reappeared two weeks later and that was that.
His actions have made it clear he’s done. So I let it go. I let us go. And it hurts. But I have no choice. Jake wants too much. For him it’s all or nothing. I can’t give him my all right now, so it has to be nothing.
My eyes shift to where he sits with the band, dressed in a black suit, his black tie secured in an impeccable Windsor knot. They’re positioned in the front row, representing the bride’s side of the family. His is the only head that isn’t turned toward the church entrance. He’s watching me instead. His eyes lower, lingering on my tits, before rising again.
The heat level beneath my skirts soar higher. We’ve been snapping at each other for months, and my nerves are frayed. I don’t know how to be nothing around Jake. Clearly, he doesn’t know how to be nothing around me either.
Thankfully, there’s a commotion at the entrance. The maid of honour has arrived. Wearing a suit similar to my brothers, except with a pink tie to match the colour of the bridesmaid dresses, Henry makes his way up the aisle. Evie has forced him to carry a bouquet. There had been a huge fight over that, but to Henry’s credit, he appears unfazed as he walks toward us, managing to move a lot quicker than we’d done in our ridiculous dresses. Still, he’s moving too quickly. His pace is out of step to the music.
“It’s hot in here,” he mutters when he reaches his place by my side.
“Hot?” I snort. “Be thankful Evie didn’t put you in this dress. Being strapped to the roof of a burning building would be cooler than this.”
Henry rolls his eyes at my complaint. “At least you don’t have to wear a tie. Feels like I’m slowly being choked to death.”
“I’d rather choke to death than burn alive,” I retort.
“I’d rather—”
“Shush,” I hiss. Evie has made her appearance, her arm tucked inside Coby’s. Their father is an absent one. Never having liked the responsibility of children, he left when Evie was young. She has us now so there’s no looking back.
My hands rest on Elijah’s shoulders. His rest lightly on my hips. We’re at the wedding reception and moving about the dance floor to Ella Henderson singing “Yours.” He’s talking to me, but I’m not paying attention to a single word he says. My gaze is busy searching the room for Jake. I don’t have to look too hard. He’s making his way between twirling couples, shoulders tense as he heads straight for us.
Elijah pauses when he reaches us, forcing me to stop alongside him.
“May I cut in?” he asks Elijah, his eyes on me.
My dance partner takes a gracious step back and my hands fall from his shoulders. “She’s all yours, Romero,” he says with a light clap on Jake’s back before striding away.
Jake picks up where Elijah left off and once again I’m being spun about the room. He moves stiffly at first, holding himself like a tightly wound coil. I rack my brain, and for the life of me I can’t recall what I’ve done this time to rile his temper. “What’s up your ass?” I snap.
He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “You.”
My nostrils flare. “Why?”
We twirl past my dancing parents, and I scowl at them. Why are they doing the electric boogaloo to a slow dance song? I make a mental note to question Jared about them doing weed in the bathroom. I saw Meryl Streep in It’s Complicated. Parents get up to some crazy shit when they think their kids aren’t watching.
“Why?” Jake repeats. “Because you’re beautiful.”
The compliment is delivered with a furrowed brow and a growly tone. I don’t know whether to accept it with grace or abandon him on the dance floor. “And that pisses you off?”
“Yes. Every male in this room has monopolised your dance card. The only one you haven’t danced with yet is me.”
“Well, we’re dancing now.”
Jake’s palms move lower on my hips pulling me closer. “And I like it.”
Without warning, he pushes me outward and twirls me under his arm. Jake has moves and this particular one, he executes effortlessly. Unfortunately, I’m wearing my elephant dress and stumble; the heel catches inside the hem halfway through the turn. I hear a rip as it snags the delicate fabric. There’s nothing I can do to halt my momentum. I’m going down. Damn dress, is all I can think as I begin a slow-motion descent to the floor. It’s not designed for physical activity.
Jake recovers and jerks me upright before I take a header across the dance floor. My chest slams into his and the breath leaves my lungs.
“My bad,” he says, a grin crinkling the corners of his eyes as he takes the blame for what is so clearly my fault. With our bodies now mashed together, there’s no mistaking the press of something incredibly hard against my belly. Frankly, it’s a surprise I can feel anything at all, what with all the layers, but this … this is unmistakeable. Jake is hard and he’s not even trying to hide it.
Jake crouches down to help de-snag my heel. His hands find their way beneath my dress. A warm palm wraps around my ankle. Jake lifts it and my hands fall on his shoulders to steady myself.
I’m dumbfounded and stare at the top of his bent head as he carefully unhooks the torn ruffle from the sharp heel of my shoe.
What new kind of fuckery is this? Sweet, gentlemanly behaviour isn’t Jake’s usual arsenal of choice. It has my heart thumping against my ribs and my defences scrambling.
Jake re-settles the skirts and stands. Taking note of my stunned expression, he tucks a hand underneath my chin and tilts my head until our eyes meet. “You okay, Princess?”
“I’m okay,” I reply, smoothing a rogue curl that escaped my whimsical up-do. “Though you’re a shit dancer, Romero,” I advise, my lips twitching as we once again begin to dance. “Maybe you might benefit from some lessons.”
His laughter rings out and draws the attention of every breathing female in the room. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll take that under advisement.”
“You do that,” I murmur, my pulse rate increasing at the endearment.
“So …”
“So?” I prompt.
“I have a plan.”
I nod. “Well, good for you.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “And I need your help.”
My interest is piqued. He knows it too. “Oh?”