That was just plain painful all by itself.
Except for the groom. He looked adorable attempting to perfect the Charlie Brown. I could tell he was only on the dance floor to entertain his bride, who sat in her wheelchair a few feet in front of him and covered her mouth with her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard.
A reluctant smile tugged at my own lips. Yeah, he was pretty damn cute with the way he so enthusiastically got into the song, shaking his ass at her. And that tux fit him like sin on an ice cream cone. Made a girl just want to lick—
Not that I’d ever licked that, though I was probably the only woman in attendance—aside from the bride herself—who’d gone on a date with him. Well, half a date. It’d been kind of interrupted by, what do you know, the bride herself, and we’d never gotten a redo before he realized where his heart truly lay.
I didn’t blame the new Mrs. Gamble for ruining my date and crushing what might’ve been a grand passionate romance. Not really.
But the thing was, I had liked Brandt Gamble. I’d liked him a lot, like enough to maybe even break my five-date rule of going all the way if that first one had ever made it to completion. Yet I’d never even gotten a kiss from him. I bet he was a good kisser too. His lips looked like the soft kind that made your toes curl as soon as they were within a foot of you.
He was damn-near perfect all the way around. Gorgeous, good humored, kind, compassionate, hard-working, easy to talk to, and just rough enough around the edges to be wholly and appealingly male.
Glancing away as the song ended and he swept forward to press his soft-looking lips against his wife’s, I cleared my throat, feeling vile for even thinking what I was thinking.
Who in their right mind attended a wedding to watch their crush marry someone else?
Me, apparently.
I was such an idiot. I should just grab my purse, get up and leave already. I was better than this. If I put my heart into it, I could probably get any man I wanted. I didn’t need to mope over some unavailable—
Across the table from me, a guy in a tux slumped into a seat in a sloppy, drunken manner, saying, “Hey, sexy.”
I jerked my gaze up to the man’s face only to groan in misery.
Not a man. Just a boy. Just a cocky, way-too attractive for his mere eighteen years, boy.
The best man, aka Brandt’s annoying little brother, wiggled his eyebrows amorously. “You look good enough to have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And that slit in your skirt, running halfway up your thigh... mmm, baby doll, that’s been driving me crazy all night.”
God, strike me dead now. If there was anything worse than watching the guy you were pining after marry another woman, it had to be spending any time in the company of Colton Gamble.
“Why...?” I demanded, glaring enough that hopefully he’d get the hint and behave for once in his life. “Couldn’t you just say I looked nice?”
“Nice?” He snorted, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. “The bride looks nice. My sisters and little nieces look nice. You...no, you don’t look nice. You look fucking delicious.”
Against my will, heat coiled in my stomach. That’s what I hated most about Colton. His pesky annoyances I could handle and swat aside without another thought. It was the way his stare could make my thighs quiver and breasts go all heavy that made me want to smack him.
He was the complete antithesis of his brother. Whereas Brandt was more humble about his appearance, Colton knew how hot he was and liked to play it up. Brandt seemed to work for everything he had while Colton had a laziness about him, as if he just sat back and let the world come to him. His personality was so loud and domineering, I wasn’t sure what was important to him, except maybe himself, while Brandt wore his feelings for others right there on his sleeve. Brandt’s presence was soothing and put me at ease, while being near Colton always made everything inside me coil and tighten with...I don’t even know. Annoyance? Dread? Awareness? Excitement?
Whatever it was, I hated it. And worse yet, I swear, he knew how much he affected me. His grin always bore that smug, arrogant smirk, as if he could read every dirty thought in my head. I hated that too...almost as much as I hated him.
Okay, maybe I didn’t hate him—I didn’t even really know him—but I could definitely do without all that freaking mess he caused inside me. Messes were just...messy. And I did hate messes. I was the kind of girl who thrived off order and control. It only took one glance at Colton to know those things did not exist in his wheelhouse.
Propping his elbows onto the table, he rested his chin in one hand as he regarded me thoughtfully. “You also looked lonely sitting over here all by your sexy self. So I decided I just couldn’t allow that.”