Do You Take This Man (26)
RJ smiled as the couple broke their kiss and clasped hands. She was looking between the brides and the crowd, and her face changed a little when she did that, her smile natural. Somehow she softened. It was probably a calculated shift, but I imagined her looking at me that way.
“Marin and Lola invite you to enjoy Icees and snacks while they take photos.”
I’d already checked that the signature flavors—blue raspberry, cola, and pi?a colada—were ready to go and the snack options—from cheese puffs to Cornnuts to jelly beans—were artfully arranged. I’d texted my sister a photo. I have a weird job. She’d sent back a photo of a paperweight molded to look like a human vulva weighing down a to-do list that began with Buy cat food. Tell me about it.
“Nice ceremony,” I said, approaching RJ with the paperwork for the marriage license after Marin and Lola stepped away with the photographer.
She laughed, which made me grin despite myself. She had been her normal terse self the whole day, that cute flustered expression from the week before a distant memory. “It’s really a gas station wedding. I just . . .”
I laughed, too, leaning against the gas pump. “I know,” I said, handing her the paperwork organized the way she liked. “Fun, though.”
“Definitely fun,” she said, our fingers brushing when she took the folder from me. Her gaze shifted to the brides laughing with their wedding party as they posed near a stack of tires, and a silence fell between us. “I’m glad I let Penny talk me into taking this one.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing the other way as the small crowd filtered into the tent. “I—”
At the same time, RJ brushed her hands down the front of her red dress. She looked stunning, and I threw thanks out to Lola, who had insisted that no one wear black. RJ’s dress hugged her curves more than her normal outfits, and I was transfixed. “Well—”
“I was wondering if you had plans after. Maybe we could grab a drink?” I glanced at my watch out of habit more than anything. The reception would wrap up by nine, and I’d been imagining how RJ and I might spend the rest of the night after first seeing her in that dress. I would not bring up the dream or that heated moment if she didn’t want to talk about it, not that I was having any success pushing either out of my thoughts.
RJ rolled back her shoulders and looked down, reviewing the paperwork. “I don’t have plans, but we shouldn’t spend time together.”
“Cool,” I said, looking at my watch again for no reason.
“Just so we’re clear,” she added, meeting my eyes.
“Crystal clear.” My dick hadn’t gotten the message this thing was over before ever really starting, so I had a troubling mix of arousal and shame swirling through my body at the same time. “I better check in with the DJ. Are you sticking around?”
RJ looked visibly relieved to be talking about work. Her shoulders relaxed incrementally. “Just until they do the signing.”
“Okay, then.” I took two steps away, reminding myself I was a cool adult who was not trying to be a nice guy. “See you later,” I said with a small wave, turning before I was tempted to take in another eyeful of her body in that dress because damn, that red dress.
The wedding had a small guest list, so I saw RJ constantly, even when I focused on the DJ—a hipster with an elaborate handlebar mustache and an astounding knowledge of hip-hop—or the caterer’s questions about restocking the Funyun fountain. RJ was always in my periphery, and the brides, these funny, creative women, were killing me, because they first convinced her to stay and then convinced her to dance, so not only was RJ in my periphery in that red dress, but RJ’s body moving in time to the beat in that red dress was also right there.
“Lear! You owe us a dance!” Lola’s cousins pulled me onto the floor to join them as the DJ switched tracks. Bell Biv DeVoe’s “Poison” played, and I immediately looked around for RJ at the throwback to the evolution-of-boy-bands video. She rolled her eyes and I winked, joining the cousins in their moves. A group crowded around us, including Marin, who proclaimed loudly to her new wife that she could be trusted, despite having a big butt and a smile.
A drop of sweat rolled down my back and I turned, looking for an exit from the heat of the dance floor. The DJ shifted to a slow one, a soulful melodic voice sounding out along with piano chords, and everyone around me was coupling off for the song. Standing in the middle of a dance floor alone as happy couples swarmed around me could have been awkward, but someone bumped me and then I was sprawled alone on the actual dance floor as happy couples swarmed around me.
“Sorry,” RJ said, holding out a hand. “I was looking for an escape.” The twinkle lights behind her framed her face in the twilight and I slowly took her hand, enjoying the soft warmth of her skin and letting her help me up. We were still boxed in, and she smelled like cinnamon, or maybe that was the churros nearby.
“Me, too.” I hadn’t let go of her hand yet, but she hadn’t pulled away.
“But I guess this was payback for when we met.”
I inched closer to her to avoid colliding with the couple behind me. “Not quite. You ran into me that time, too.”
“Maybe, but that time I ended up on the ground.” RJ’s hand slipped from mine.
“You were falling for me from the beginning.”