My traitor brain supplied helpful suggestions such as ask him for a repeat tonight before he left town. Or find out where he lived and hope it was close enough to meet up sometimes.
I shut down that line of thinking immediately. Last night was perfect and amazing—and only one night. There was no possible way it could live up to the experience a second time.
I stood back to consider my appearance in the full length mirror in my childhood bedroom. I had chosen a floor length pale gray gown with beaded details that offered tasteful cleavage. Just enough to make the point I was still in my prime but not so much as to be gouache at a wedding.
I hoped Jordy liked it.
Ugh. This was the exact reason I didn’t date seriously. All of a sudden, all I could think about was someone else. What was Jordy doing now? Was he thinking of me? Would he ask me to dance? All questions that I shouldn’t care about yet looped through my mind on repeat.
From the moment my first serious relationship went south, I made a promise to myself to put my energy and attention on myself rather than seek out the validation from men as that only led to heartbreak.
I didn’t have time or energy for a broken heart. Yet here I was onfreaking Valentine’s Dayconsumed with thoughts of a man.
The universe had a cruel sense of humor. Austin was directly responsible for my first heartbreak and now he was also going to be partly responsible for my second.
My Mom’s voice drifted down the hall. “Sweetie are you almost ready—Dad is warming up the car.”
Not only was I headed to humiliation, I was doing it in my parent’s ancient Buick. How did my life take such a drastic turn in the past twenty-four hours?
“I’ll be there in a minute!”
I put the finishing touches on my makeup and added an extra spritz of perfume before slipping on my strappy heels. I took a deep, fortifying breath in the hallway before entering the living room.
“You look beautiful, dear,” my Mom offered as she glanced behind her out of the coat closet, where she was currently rummaging for our coats.
She found hers and then passed me my own. “Let’s go, Dad is getting antsy, I’m sure.”
I rolled my eyes at her back as I followed her through the kitchen and into the driveway. I shivered at the cold, reconsidering my refusal to wear my snow boots and change to heels when we were at the hotel for the wedding.
My Dad did indeed have the car warmed up and I slid into the backseat, wrapping my coat around me tighter.
“We’ll be there in a jiffy!” He announced.
As much as I found their endless cheer and overprotection suffocating, I did love them. I was lucky to have both parents still, even if they seemed to make it their life’s work to annoy me.
As promised, we were at the hotel in mere minutes and I found myself entering the lobby much sooner than I was ready. The ceremony was being held in the large library, complete with roaring fireplace and over-the-top heart decorations.
We checked our coats and found ourselves standing with the rest of the guests, who formed two groups with an aisle of sorts in between for the bride. Most were wearing shades of pink or red in deference to the holiday. I glanced around in an attempt to find Jordy but he hadn’t yet joined the groomsmen at the fireplace.
Hopefully everything was alright. We’d accomplished our goal of retrieving the jewelry for his sister unless a new wedding crisis had developed.
There were trays of champagne being passed around and I snagged one to give myself something to do besides focus on Jordy.
Finally, I saw him in the corner of my eye as he appeared at the fireplace, a grin on his face. He hugged his future brother-inlaw and the other groomsmen before adjusting his glasses and turning to face the guests.
His eyes sought me in the crowd and his gaze snagged mine. His grin turned wicked and he winked. A flush crept up my neck at his obvious flirting. Of course my mom noticed. “Who is that handsome boy, Courtney? Is he someone you know?”
I was tempted to tell her the truth—that I’d spent last night sharing orgasms with that handsome man. But instead, I opted for a g-rated version of the truth. “I met him at the coffee shop yesterday morning.”
“That’s nice, dear. Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. He looks like he’d be a good dancer.”
How she could discern that fact by merely looking at him I had no idea but knew enough not to challenge her assessment.
“Maybe I’ll ask him to dance.”
My mom’s mouth turned down in a slight frown. It was the expression she made whenever I did or said something that was just a bit too bold for what “nice women should do.”
I took a great deal of enjoyment in doing those things as often as possible. Which explained my entire life, honestly. The realization hit me that some of the reason I avoided relationships is I was afraid to end up like my mom. Married to a stable and caring but boring man in a marriage that looked like a cage from my perspective.
