Mom laughs. “Your sister is with her bridesmaids right now, so I have a few minutes to spend with my son.”
She reaches over to take a sip from my glass before grimacing and shaking her head. I smirk. My mother is the type of lady who sticks with sweet white wines only.
“I don’t get why you drink that,” she says.
“I like the way it burns.”
“You always did have a flair for drama.” She sighs, glancing around again at the guests beginning to congregate. “Now I'm serious, where is that girl? Did you already manage to scare her off? She’s the one who made the cupcakes, right? They were absolutely marvelous. I had three, but don’t tell your sister. She wanted to take some home but there weren’t any left.”
“Holly will be here,” I promise, though the assurance is mainly for myself. Holly was supposed to have been here thirty minutes ago. “She owns a bakery on Fifth Ave. Rosa highly recommended her.”
I finish my drink, waving over a waiter and getting a fresh one a moment later. A single ice cube clinked against the glass.
Mom smiles. “That Rosa, she could talk for an hour about paint drying. She’s here somewhere. I think I saw her talking to your uncle . . ..” Abruptly, my mother stops talking, her eyes going round as saucers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, glancing around in stark confusion. “Did they run out of your favorite wine or something?”
She grabs hold of my arm, whirling me around to face the doorway of the reception hall.
“Oh,” I say simply, my jaw joining my mother’s on the floor.
Silhouetted by fading, golden light, Holly has just stepped through the open doors. Her crimson hair is piled atop her head, a knee length lavender dress wrapped perfectly around her body. Cut modestly in the chest but low down her spine, it exposed just enough of the woman’s pale skin to make my whole body feel suddenly hot.
My veins throb inside my body, heart jolting against my chest. Fire and lightning bolts, that’s what looking at her feels like. Just when I thought she couldn’t get any more gorgeous . . . she goes and shows up in something like that. It amazes me how great she looks in everything from jean shorts to kitten pajamas to a stunning evening dress.
Holly nervously glances around before her eyes lock on mine across the room. A slow smile blooms on her lips, the kind that makes everyone else in the room disappear. Everything melts away—the people, the scent of flowers, the music . . . all that exists is her.
The brush of my mother’s hand on my elbow suddenly drags me gasping back to reality as Holly approaches. “Holly, this is my mother, Renee. Mom, this is Holly.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Titus,” Holly says brightly, her pink lip gloss shimmering as she smiles. I find myself licking my lips, eager to have a taste. “I'm thrilled to be able to spend the day with you and your family.”
“Call me Renee, please. I have to say we’re all so excited to get to know you, Holly. Our Bash doesn’t bring girls around very often.”
“Well, I know firsthand just how much you and Clara mean to him. I’m sure he’s just careful about who he deems worth meeting you.”
Mom blinks, taking in the beautiful woman and then looking suspiciously toward me. “Where’d you find this one?” she asks accusingly. “She’s far too sweet for you.”
When Holly laughs, shooting a wily grin at me, Mom leans closer to her. “Be patient with him. Bash drives us crazy, but he’s worth it.”
“Mom!” I mutter.
Mom winks, murmuring that she’s going to help Clara get dressed, which really means they’re going to be gossiping about Holly and me. She waves goodbye and before leaving, gives Holly a swift hug.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask Holly, trying to remind myself not to stare at her, though that’s proving to be nearly impossible with how beautiful she looks tonight.
“Oh, it looks like you already have!” Holly teases, taking the Scotch from my hand and throwing back her head to finish it.
When she’s done she smacks her lips, smiling like she’d just taken a big gulp of refreshing water.
A woman who likes Scotch? Damn that’s sexy.
Holly gazes around the room. “I've never been here as a guest before. It’s a little odd to be on this end of things.”
Soft music begins to play and the ushers direct us out the doors and onto the veranda to take our seats for the ceremony. Holly and I walk together, side-by-side. Something about having her beside me feels oddly right, like I'd been missing a leg my entire life and hadn’t noticed I was limping until she came along. The way she and my mother had that instant connection, how she seems perfectly keen to go with the flow and soak up everything here at the wedding, it amazes me.
I've been dreading another evening making idle chatter with people who I couldn’t care less about, but with Holly it all seems so much more enjoyable. What was it about her that made my heart feel so heavy in the best way possible—like it was suddenly full for the very first time?
“And just who do we have here?” asks a sudden, booming voice, as a curious man approaches. “Hey, Bash. Nice to see you and this is . . . ?”
I tense when I recognize the womanizing lawyer from my firm. “Rex, this is Holly. Holly, this is Rex. Holly’s my date tonight.”
“Well you’re a lucky, lucky man,” Rex purrs, inching closer to Holly as we continue to our seats.
Jealousy prickles along the back of my neck, rising along with the hairs. A primal instinct to keep Holly shielded from my sleazy friend’s lingering gaze wells in my core. I don’t even have a reason to be jealous, do I? It’s not like this date means anything. She’s only here because I begged her.
Holly smiles at Rex, wrapping one arm around my own. I hold my breath, fireworks dancing along my skin at her touch. “Bash is certainly lucky to have me here and he knows it,” she laughs, sneaking me a knowing wink.
Rex pouts, sensing Holly’s disinterest. He shrugs, easing his hands into his pockets as he turns his attention back to me. “Can you believe it? Little Clara getting married. I swear she just graduated from high school.”
“I know,” I murmur, glancing toward the closed doors of the bridal suite.
Any minute she’ll come strolling out those doors to Graham, who is standing at the end of the aisle while the rest of us settle into white chairs.
Graham shifts nervously from foot-to-foot, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze is vacant, searching out only one face amongst the sea of people here to celebrate his love. He’s waiting for Clara.
Have I ever once looked at someone the way he’s about to look at my sister? Have I ever felt even a sliver of what he must be feeling in his heart right now?
“Bash,” Holly whispers in my ear, her voice gentle, “look.”
Unbeknownst to me, the bridal march has started. Played by a string quartet nearby, the music drifts over the breeze and plucks at my ears. Every note touches my heart in a way that it certainly wouldn’t had it not been for Holly beside me.
The doors swing open, my mother and Clara’s bridesmaids stepping out first. One-by-one they pass. Each person makes my heart thud harder and harder against my ribs. My baby sister, all grown up and so in love . . .