And she would not cry.
Colt curved his hand over her butt in a gentle nudge forward. His whisper rumbled against her ear. “Your face is saying it for you.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, lowering her voice to the quietest murmur possible. “It’s awful.”
In other circumstances, maybe not so much, but this sparse, trying-to-be-elegant farce wasn’t a celebration to kick off the holiday season. This was . . . who knew what this was, with trays of spindly canapes set against white cloths, a few strands of lights, and servers clad in austere white and black.
Servers.
She’d actually hired a mediocre caterer and traditional servers.
Oh, this was bad . . . and Holly had worn the wrong shoes.
“Holly, you’re here.” Oh, it got worse because that was Andrea approaching, in sleek black pants and blouse, her mouth set in what was probably supposed to be a smile, but more closely resembled a feral grimace. “Hello.”
“Hey.” Holly controlled her cringe as Andrea leaned in to blow an air-kiss on her cheek. She curled her fingers about Colt’s arm, half-turning into him. “You remember Colt Calvert? Colt, Andrea Yates, Scott’s partner.”
She didn’t choke on the word or its layers, from law partner to life partner, and that was growth for sure.
“Good to see you again.” Colt extended a hand, and Andrea held on for a moment, examining his face.
“Yes, it is.” Andrea gestured toward the tall tables scattered about, white cloths gathered with gold ribbons. “Your mother did the floral arrangements. She’s very talented.”
“She is. I’ll tell her you liked them.” Colt spread his hand at the small of Holly’s back, then glanced behind them at Kathleen and Tom McMillan. “We should move on so you can greet your guests. Excuse us.”
A few awkward steps onto the grass, Holly released the breath she’d held. “Oh, I might just love you for that.”
His startled gaze jerked to her face before his mouth firmed. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
She pinched him. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“Hey.” He caught her fingers. She expected a retaliatory pinch — instead he lifted her hand and dropped a kiss in her palm, the whispery contact shivering up her arm. Curling her hand to preserve the heat of his mouth against her skin, she stared up at him, at the enigmatic light in his eyes. The night narrowed around them, and she moistened her upper lip with the tip of her tongue.
A different light flared in his gaze, and he glanced away on a rough laugh, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “I probably shouldn’t kiss you for real here.”
“Probably not.” The prospect intrigued, but they already drew curious appraisal, simply being together here. She surveyed the crowd, heart lightening when she spotted Tick and Caitlin a few feet from the food table, each holding a clear plastic cup, Tick with a plate in hand.
Holly brushed a hand over Colt’s arm. “Let’s say hello.”
His gaze tracked her line of sight, a cringe traveling through his body before he straightened. He scuffed a hand over his nape.
“We don’t have to hang out.” She stroked the tense line of his arm. “But we should speak.”
“Yeah.” He made another pass over his neck and exhaled. His throat moved with a swallow. “Let’s go.”
Holding onto his arm made navigating the thick turf in heels safer. Despite the tension, merely seeing Tick sent glee bubbling through her. He remained one of her dearests, and shemissedhim.
“Hey, you.” She caught the flare of surprise on his face before she threw her arms about his neck. Caitlin snagged the plate he held, and he wrapped an arm across Holly’s back in a hug. Joy fizzing in her, she leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Hey.” Grinning, he chucked her chin, and she smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.
Caitlin waited, plate in one hand, her drink in the other, her normal polished self in a cashmere sweater and dark jeans paired with low-heeled boots perfect for tramping about Scott’s backyard. Okay, so she’d become one of Holly’s favorites, too – how could she not when she made Lamar as happy as he was?
“Caitlin, hey.” Disentangling herself from Tick’s embrace, she wound a hug around Caitlin. Tick lifted their shared plate from Caitlin’s palm. What did he think, that Holly would send it flying? Well, okay, grace wasn’t her middle name, but still.
If those awful canapés hit the ground, the loss wouldn’t be great.
“Hi.” With her free hand, Caitlin brushed dark hair behind her ear, incisive green gaze skimming over Tick and Colt and back again. Behind Holly, the cousins exchanged a greeting that was no more than an acknowledgement of one another’s names.Holly rolled her eyes. Okay, she got it – they were both hurt, but she was ready to knock their heads together and make them move on.
