“So then what are the pictures for?”
“My spank bank.”
He sputtered and coughed. I handed him my glass for a drink. His expression promised retribution when he took a sip, but he was smiling when he set the glass down on the closest table.
A guitar plucking came over the speakers as the band got everyone’s attention. With his hand still on me, Tenor and I faced the stage set up on the patio behind the clubhouse.
Fairy lights and yellow tulle decorated the pergola. Cara’s laugh rang over the crowd. Brock was standing with his groomsmen, his gaze on me and Tenor. I grinned and lifted my drink in congratulations. His returning smile was tight.
I took my attention off him, feeling nothing but relief that I wasn’t the one in the wedding dress saying yes to him.
Cara marched up to him, hooked her arm through his, and dragged him to the three-tier cake.
Tenor slipped his hand in mine and we gathered to watch the happy couple cut their slice of cake. As Cara adjusted Brock’s hold on the knife, her “silly goose” rose over the notes from the band queuing up. Lines of tension ran along his jaw as his new wife corrected him in front of the crowd.
I almost—almost—felt sorry for him. He hadn’t shown me what a good boyfriend was like, but I had been a good girlfriend. Was I the most exciting? No. The sexiest? Well, Tenor made me feel that way, but to Brock, I hadn’t been. Yet I’d been a considerate, caring partner. I had asked about his day. I had brought him meals when he was sick, and I had never demeaned him in front of his friends or family. I had cared for him.
Have your cake and eat it too, Brock.
He’d wanted more, and he’d made me feel like less when it hadn’t been my fault.
My time with Tenor had shown me that. Tenor had said he’d show me I wasn’t the problem in my relationships. He had, and we weren’t even dating for real.
Brock and Cara each balanced a small square of white cake with raspberry swirls in their hands. Cara lifted her piece to his mouth—but he smashed his chunk into hers. I wasn’t the only one to gasp. Tenor gave his head a small shake and squeezed my hand.
A scandalized squeal shot from the bride and she smudged her cake across the groom’s face. The couple might be laughing now, but their eyes shot fire.
“I’ve never been so glad to have been dumped,” I murmured.
“I was thinking the same,” Tenor replied quietly. “She reminds me of my ex.”
“You wouldn’t have rammed your piece of cake into your new wife’s face.”
“Not even if I was begged to.” He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I would, however, feed her each bite so slowly, so carefully, so sensually the crowd would have to look away.”
My breath caught and intense jealousy fired in my stomach. Who was the lucky bride and what lake could I throw her in? “I’m not sure I’d want to see Crock do that either.”
His chuckle was low, and I grinned. I leaned into him, letting the warmth of the bourbon fill me as the evening cooled off a few degrees.
After the sweet mess was cleaned up and the couple returned to mingle, the band started. Cara, with a freshly washed face and damp stains on her dress, dragged Brock to the middle of the dance floor.
I had to give it to her. Other than the cake fiasco, she could put on a good party. Too bad she and Brock would be permanent residents of Bourbon Canyon once their honeymoon was over. The bones of their new house overlooked the ninth hole. How often would I have to see them? I wasn’t pining over my ex, and I was no longer intimidated by her, but I’d rather have this little town be my sanctuary.
When the bride and groom’s first dance was over, all the guests were welcome to join them on the dance floor. Tenor twined his fingers through mine and lifted the glass from my other hand. He set it on a nearby table, then led me toward the dancing couples.
“I—I don’t dance.” My wedge shoes made it easier to navigate the grass until we hit the hard platform of the dance floor, but they wouldn’t help me find some rhythm. I had two left feet. In wedge heels.
“You don’t have to.” He twirled me into him. “Just follow me.”
I draped an arm around his big shoulder and hung on while he coaxed me through some steps. Eventually, I caught the pattern and hugged closer to him. “You’re good at everything.”
“Don’t ask me to line dance. I’ll be on my ass in seconds.”
I giggled just as a couple bumped into us.
Cara’s crystal blue eyes pinned me. “Ohmigod, you made it.” She peeled away from Brock and yanked me away from Tenor. A cloud of perfume smothered me as she tossed her arms around my neck. “So glad you could join us. But then you had to since you’re also working, right?” The insecurity was a surprise. She was the bride. This was her day. Why worry about my reasons for attending? She’d made it clear I wasn’t important in her life.
“Uh, congrats again.” I pried myself away from her.
