“Sadly, it’ll probably be the last time I fit into it for a long time.”
“You’re beautiful no matter what you’re wearing,” I say softly. “Or how pregnancy will change your body. I wanted you the first night I saw you, when you were wearing that awful uniform at the diner.”
She laughs. “You don’t like my uniform?”
“Honestly, I barely noticed the uniform. All I saw was you. Your beautiful golden eyes. Your round breasts. Your long legs. Those gorgeous lips. I was mesmerized.”
She winds her arms around my neck. “I like when you sweet talk to me.”
“I probably don’t do it often enough.”
“You haven’t had much of a chance.”
“Well, there will be plenty of sweet talk between now and when I leave for Europe.”
“That sounds like something I’m going to enjoy.”
“I plan to spoil my new bride.”
Her eyes drift up to mine, and I see a strange mix of emotions. Happiness, wariness, and hope, maybe even a little confusion. Like she isn’t sure what to make of what’s happening between us. I can’t keep reassuring her, though. At some point, she has to trust me. Trust in the way it feels, in the way I treat her, and hopefully, in the way she feels about me.
“Time for the bouquet toss!” Sasha yells, ushering women onto the makeshift dance floor and shooing the men.
“See you in a minute!” I tell Summer, joining the other guys on the sidelines.
Summer moves to the back of the crowd, while Ryleigh gets right in front.
“I’m ready!” Ryleigh yells to Taryn, who laughs.
“You better not throw it to me.” A well-known fashion designer named Alexa Humboldt says, standing next to Ryleigh with a scowl on her face. Ryleigh whispers something to her and they both laugh.
“I mean, you’re getting married next no matter what happens,” Jonny points out.
“Yeah, but this is tradition. Besides, it’s fun.”
He shrugs. “Meh. Weddings aren’t my thing. When I fall in love, I hope she’s willing to elope because this looks like a huge waste of time and money.”
“Seriously, dude? Why are you so grumpy?”
“I’m not. Just saying, this isn’t my thing.”
“It’s been a blast,” I protest. “All our friends. Good food and music. Your brother marrying a woman he absolutely adores…what’s not to love?”
“I don’t know.” He looks over to where Mick is whispering to Taryn, one hand on the small of her back. “You’re all just…”
“What?” I ask.
“It’s different now. You’re all in love. You’re all…attached. Mick basically has a kid now and next year you will too. And then there’s me.”
“Living your best life. You don’t have to stop doing anything and everything you want to do. And we’ll be right there with you. Just not with other women.”
“We couldn’t even get you guys lap dances the other night,” he complains.
“But you can still have them. How does it impact you that we don’t want to do some of that stuff anymore?
“It impacts me because now I have to do them alone.”
Ah, shit.
