By now, he’d moved into the same area, and part of me was disappointed to see his attention on the ground. No, not on the ground—he was pacing out the space, the same way I would have done.
“What kind of arch does she want?” he asked.
Right. He was being professional, focusing on the wedding planning. That’s what he was here for, after all; helping to make Riven’s image come alive.
Maybe he wasn’t obsessing over how perfectly we’d fit together, how good he’d tasted.
I tried not to think about how much easier this process was with Sylvik’s help.
“Um…” I cleared my throat, shuffling forward to stand where I imagined Riven would stand for the ceremony. “Greenery, we said. Riven agreed that she wants to be married beneath greenery. Could you help choose what kind of greenery?”
“Absolutely,” he murmured, moving to stand beside me. “Garrak can help choose specific plants, since I wasn’t raised in the orcs’ world, but I’m thinking pine boughs for the season?—”
“Holly berries?” I interrupted eagerly, turning on him. “Oh, please tell me holly sprigs will work? We could tie the holidays together.”
Those delicious lips of his curved upward into a smile as he faced me. “Pine boughs and holly leaves and berries. It sounds perfect. Lots of green?—”
“And pops of red,” I murmured, stepping closer, my gaze locked on his.
“And red,” he agreed. “No wonder Ethan wants you back; you’re clearly brilliant at this.”
The compliment—was that a compliment?—startled me, and I reared back, blinking at him in confusion. Did he think I was going back to California to work with Ethan again?
Are you?
How was I supposed to think about the future—think about myex—when Sylvik was standing in front of me? His scent filling my nostrils, his warmth reminding me of what it felt like to be pressed against a tree andclaimed?
Even if it had been a mistake.
It hadn’tfeltlike one.
“I…I’m not sure,” I managed, although he hadn’t really asked a question.
His eyes flared green in the darkness, and he nodded once, the long column of his throat working when he swallowed and swayed closer.
“They’d be standing right about…” Sylvik’s hands went to my hips, and he nudged me half a step to the left. “Right about here, I think.”
“Yes,” I breathed, although I wasn’t sure exactly what I was agreeing with. Either my sister’s place in the wedding ceremony or the way my entire body had lit up when Sylvik had touched me. “Right here.”
“Right here,” he whispered, grinning down at me. “The greenery would be above us—them.” He tipped his head back, pretending to look up at the arch. I could see the long column of his throat, his smooth skin…I wanted to taste it.
Tastehim.
I pressed my thighs together to capture the tingle, and I saw his nostrils flare, right before he tipped his head back down to meet my gaze.
His eyes were flaring green in the darkness.
“Brooke…”
What had we been talking about? My hands, which were supposed to have been holding my wrap snug around me, had somehow managed to rest against his chest. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my palms, and I knew mine matched the beat.
I swallowed. “Pine and holly,” I whispered. “Red and green. But her colors are green and white. We need something white. Ribbons?”
“No.” Sylvik swayed closer, his eyelids half closed. “Mistletoe. Right in the center of the arch. Hanging directly above us.”
Mistletoe, of course.
Unbidden, my gaze darted upwards, as if I could see the sneaky little troublemaking plant hanging on our imaginary archway.
