“That’s it,” Hayes said, sounding almost relieved.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s it.”
We knocked out centerpieces next, falling into a rhythm without needing many words. By the time the last box was broken down and the boutonnieres set aside for refrigeration, the ballroom glowed with candlelight and the scent of roses and pine.
When I looked up, Hayes had a smear of green on his wrist and a nick on one knuckle.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I will be,” I admitted. “Thanks.”
He just tipped his chin, then handed me half a protein bar. We ate standing by the service door, watching the room settle into the promise I’d made Harper: gold and white, warm enough to forget the storm outside.
Tomorrow the wedding party would arrive. Tomorrow it would all get loud. But for tonight, I had something rare—margin.
CHAPTER 5
HAYES
I enteredthe lodge and almost had to cover my ears against the roar. I’d only been gone a few hours, long enough to grab breakfast and make a halfhearted attempt at the gym, but walking back in was like stepping into a different world. Yesterday, it had been still and quiet. This morning, laughter ricocheted off timber beams and brass luggage carts squeaked under mountains of designer suitcases. The wedding party had arrived, and people were everywhere.
Bridesmaids squealed around Harper in a blur of puffy coats, their hair and makeup already too perfect for ten a.m. Harper herself was incandescent, wrapped in a long white coat and glowing like a princess in her own fairy tale. Groomsmen shouted across the lobby at each other, dragging half-zipped garment bags and making jokes that weren’t funny but had them doubled over, anyway. Even the damn harp had arrived, trundled through the lobby in a mahogany case like someone was smuggling in a baby grand.
And in the center of it all, Sidney held the chaos together with nothing but a clipboard and a smile. She didn’t yell. She just kept her calm and moved from one small group to the next, checking in with everyone. A tilt of her chin sent a bellhop sprinting forthe elevators with a cartload of welcome bags. A flick of her pen redirected a bridesmaid who was about to stage an impromptu photoshoot in the middle of the luggage bottleneck. She caught Harper’s elbow mid-spin and murmured something that made the bride beam, then peeled away before she could get trapped in introductions and conversations that would take up too much of her valuable time.
I stayed in the shadows by the window, letting the tide of bodies roll past. Rand saw me and cut through the crowd with his usual grin. He stopped at the concierge desk to confirm something, and I caught the way his eyes flicked toward Sidney like she was the commander-in-chief of the weekend. Ten years ago, he’d led men through live fire. Today he deferred to her without even noticing he was doing it. Everyone here did.
One of the groomsmen pulled away from the pack and made a beeline for Sidney, grinning the kind of grin that probably got him out of traffic tickets. “Sidney,” he called, stretching out her name like he was pulling taffy. “Do we have to RSVP for the welcome drinks tonight, or can I just crash them like usual?”
“You’re on the list,” she said, not looking up from her clipboard as she handed him a printed schedule. “So technically you’re not crashing.”
“Then I’ll crash them anyway.” He winked and strolled off, completely unaware that my jaw had just locked hard enough to crack molars.
It was harmless. I knew it was harmless. She wasn’t mine. And yet my shoulders went tight like I was bracing for an impact that wasn’t coming.
Sidney kept moving, already issuing instructions to the bell staff. A garment bag tipped off one of the carts. I caught it before it hit the floor and hauled it upright. The bellhop blinked at me, startled, like he didn’t know how to respond to a guest doing anything that involved work.
“You don’t have to do that,” Sidney said, appearing at my elbow in a blur of cream wool and focus. Her tone made it sound like an accusation.
“They were falling.”
“I have people for falling things.”
“Then I guess you can consider me a bonus person.”
Her fingers brushed mine on the bag handle. She stilled, and so did I. It was only half a second max that we were skin to skin, but the spark shot straight up my arm. Her breath hitched before she stepped back, her mask slamming back into place.
“Fine,” she said, already pivoting away. Then she was gone again, the chaos swallowing her whole, and I was left standing there like someone had just reached into my chest and rewired my whole damn heart.
I did what needed to be done after that… said hi to Harper and Rand, escaped to my cabin for a shower, and ducked into the small cafe for a quick bite to eat while the rest of the wedding party took a tour around the resort.
Around two, I stepped into the ballroom to make sure Sidney had eaten lunch. The rows of gold Chiavari chairs caught the light from the tall windows. White velvet tablecloths glowed like new snow under the chandeliers. Gold chargers sparkled on each table. Sidney moved through it all with the same professional energy she’d had since dawn.
I caught myself helping again. It wasn’t even intentional at first. Someone needed crates hauled from the dock, and I did it without asking. The banquet crew needed the last of the wine barrels muscled into place, and I was there. I told myself it was faster than watching them fumble. That was only half a lie.
Sidney spotted me sliding a table into position and frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” I said as I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. I didn’t mind, and I’d rather pitch in than sit through a few rounds oficebreakers going on in one of the small conference rooms. Rand said it was so the wedding party could get to know each other better since some of them were childhood friends who hadn’t spent much time around their college roommates yet.
