Arm Candy (Real Love #2)(56)
I step back and join Davis, giving Rox a moment to regale Mark’s buddies with the tale of the engagement.
“Can I get you a drink?” Davis takes my hand and walks me to the open bar.
“I’d be remiss not to try the champagne.”
“Especially since you’re a connoisseur now.” Davis places an order. As we wait to be served, I think back to the night at Bubbly’s and how my main concern that evening was how to wrap up seeing the man at my side now.
I shake off the unsettling thought and accept the glass, cheersing with Davis’s standby bottle of Sam Adams before we both take a drink. Not all things have to end instantly, I think as the bubbles pop on my tongue.
“Haven’t been to an engagement party in a while,” Davis murmurs. “I half expected Vince to be the next.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me at all. They’re perfect for each other.” Vince and Jackie fit together. Their journey was a bit of a bumbling one, but once she learned that Vince wanted her as much as she wanted him, she didn’t hold back.
“Their movie nights were basically dates dressed up as friendship. As tuned in as they were to one another, things were bound to develop.”
I ponder Davis’s comment and the way things are developing between him and me. Before I can get too deep into my thoughts, the sound system crackles and a voice comes over the speaker.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Mark says into the microphone, “I’d like to say a few words about my beautiful fiancée. Rox, honey, come up here.”
Mark gestures and Roxanne places her hands on her pinkening cheeks as she strolls toward her future husband. There’s a bit of a wobble to her walk, but I’m sure no one can tell. She manages a fairly straight line and elegantly steps onto the stage, her palm in Mark’s.
“When we met…” Mark starts, and I become hyperaware of Davis beside me, his hand on my back. “I knew instantly that I was in love with this woman. I was told we fell too fast, too soon. That we rushed. That it’d never last. Two of those I’ve debunked and the third will take a lifetime to refute, but I’m willing. How about you, babe?”
Rox grins and the crowd cheers.
Mark continues gushing and I blink away the mist in my eyes.
True love is rare. But not impossible.
It gives me hope.
Davis
I shove two fingers in my collar, tugging as I swallow around the lump in my throat like they do in cartoons.
Mark’s speech to Roxanne was heartfelt, and Roxanne’s humble reaction was genuine, soaked in expensive champagne, and adorable. The couple earned applause that died down long before their kiss ended.
I expected an attack of Hanna-infused memories tonight. She was elated about our future plans together. At our engagement party, I gave a similar speech to Mark’s, and though mine was laced with cheap jokes practically begging for a snare drum, it was every ounce as meaningful. Hanna and I wrote our own vows, but I never found out what hers said. Later I bitterly quipped to Vince that they were “See ya! Wouldn’t want to be ya!”
So, yeah, I expected unsavory memories to come. They did, but they didn’t circle like hungry sharks. They hovered in the distance, fuzzy. Barely discernible. And they didn’t accompany loss or humiliation.
My thoughts shift into What if…? territory. It’s easy to imagine a day like this in my future. A speech that would eclipse my former speech. A wedding that would put my previous attempt at matrimony to shame. Vows written from a deeper part of my soul than before. All of this I can easily picture with the most unlikely of brides.
A redhead named Grace Buchanan.
That idea is nuts, I know. Grace and I have known each other a handful of months—dated only a handful of weeks. And yet picturing her in my house on a permanent basis isn’t as heart-stopping as I would’ve guessed.
It sounds…awesome.
Roxanne and Mark glide over to us. She turns circles as he holds her hand over her head like she’s a pirouetting ballerina. When she stumbles, he catches her, and she lets out an effervescent laugh.
A resonant surety in my gut tells me they’re going to make it.
“Nice speech,” I tell him. “When’s the big day?”
Mark cuts his gaze to his future bride. “Soon. Just finishing up my master’s degree. Roxanne wants a destination wedding.”
Next to me, Grace stiffens. Not for herself but out of concern for me. It’s sweet. I tuck her close to my side, my hand rubbing up and down her arm.
“The Bahamas are beautiful.” In my periphery, Grace tips her chin to study me. What’d she expect, that I’d burst into tears? Duck and run? “Or Tahiti. Jamaica’s nice.”
“You know your wedding-destination locales,” Roxanne observes with a smile. Her eyes cut to Grace and they have a silent conversation. I take it Rox knows.
“I’ve done my research.” My comment invites a prying question. I’m not entirely sure why I invited it, but I’m not nervous about answering.
Mark’s eyes go to Grace, then me. “For an upcoming wedding?”
“Past wedding. It didn’t happen.” I’m alarmed by how unalarmed I am. Mark nods, taking my answer in stride. For years my biggest shame was admitting failure. Not only at getting married but at keeping my fiancée by my side. That seems so petty now. Who gives a shit?