Do You Take This Man (92)

I was nodding when RJ looked up and caught my eye. I didn’t realize it until her eyebrow quirked up this tiny, barely recognizable amount.

Penny’s hushed voice pulled me away. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

RJ continued speaking as the sun lowered, the sky shifting to darker shades of orange and purple clouds. “Though, Rowan, speaking as an attorney, are you sure you don’t want to take legal action against him?”

Everyone laughed, and Rowan shook their head emphatically, kissing Jordan’s fingers clasped in their own before the couple began their vows.

I leaned into Penny and whispered, “I think I’m in love with RJ.”

“I thought you two couldn’t stand each other.”

“We can’t . . . most days.” I flicked my gaze back to the altar. Her curls were pulled to the top of her head and blew in the breeze. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to say or how any of this was going to work, but I didn’t want to leave this wedding without a plan to see her again, to keep her in my life.

Penny gave me a sardonic smile, but it fell when she met my eyes. “Wait, are you serious?”

“For the first time as a married couple, Rowan and Jordan Marshall-Caine!” The couple kissed and raised their clasped hands, and everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping.

“Serious,” I said, dragging my eyes from the couple to meet Penny’s. “She makes it hard to get to know her, but I think whatever it takes for her to let me in, it might be worth it.”

“Well,” she said, blowing out a slow breath, “I owe Tina twenty bucks. She called that the very first wedding she saw you two together.”

Penny checked her clipboard before giving me another smile, this one softer. “If this is your last chance, you better figure out what you’re going to say.”

I watched RJ step back, giving the couple room to embrace friends and family, and her eyes found mine again, but I didn’t look away this time. “I know.”





Chapter 49


    RJ



I TUCKED THE signed marriage license in my bag and shook hands with the couple again, wishing them well. Penny handed me the pen we’d used and shook her head. “Are you sure you want to leave all this?” She motioned around to the reception, already bouncing with music and drinks after just forty-five minutes. The terrace was beautiful, and the waves crashing against the shore provided the perfect backdrop for the party.

“Yep. I’ll miss some of it, though.”

“You mean some people?”

“The text I’ve received from you more often than anything else was ‘You’re killing me.’?”

“I meant Lear.”

I glanced around, looking for him by the bar or near the DJ, but he was nowhere in sight.

“You’re not going to say anything?” She lightly punched my arm and laughed, but I inspected my nails.

I didn’t know what to say to her. Hell, I didn’t know what to say to Lear, but the way he’d looked at me during the ceremony . . . it was something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Penny stepped forward and held out her hand. I loved that she didn’t dive into a hug. “I expected nothing less. I will miss you, RJ.”

“Hey.” Lear’s fingers grazed my bare shoulder, and Penny winked before stepping away.

I rolled my shoulders back before facing him. “Hey.”

He smelled good, like sandalwood and sunscreen, and I wondered if we could fast-forward through this, go find a supply closet, and let things play out.

“Can we talk?”

“We could pretend we talked and then not talk,” I said, my fingers itching to reach for him, to stroke his forearm and find a hidden spot somewhere so we could skip this part, the talking part, because a lingering fear rippled through me that I’d mess this part up and he’d say no again.

His eyes dipped to my lips, and I was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing, but they flicked back up. “I think this time we need to actually talk.”

I nodded toward the beach, and he motioned for me to lead, his fingertips brushing my lower back. “We’re better at not talking.”

His chuckle next to me as we moved away from the music soothed some of the anxiety within me, and we took the short staircase down to the beach. “I know. We’re great at not talking.”

Memories of kisses and touches, of him covering my mouth to stay quiet, and the way his hands felt traversing the lines of my body—“great” was really an understatement. I’d swapped out my normal heels for flat sandals, and I missed the advantage of the added inches. When I was standing up straight, my eyes were only level with his chin. It was a nice chin, but I looked out to the ocean instead, waiting for him to talk.

“I’m sorry I said those things,” he began, and I noticed him shoving his hands in his pockets. “I . . . I don’t have a good excuse. I was scared.”

I held up a hand. “I think this is actually where I need to apologize. Not you. I actually don’t think I deserve a second chance. I was hot and cold with you because . . . well, hot was too scary. Hot was too big, and cold was familiar. It’s what I’ve gotten used to.”

The sky held on to the last vestiges of orange as sunset faded into night, and the stars twinkled over the horizon. “I’m sorry I ignored you. That’s always worked for me.” I ignored men, and they went away before I had to care about them. “Maybe it didn’t work. Maybe it was just easier.”