I have responsibilities. I need to coordinate the receiving line. I need to make sure the photographer captures all the important family combinations. I need to shepherd everyone toward the reception area while the catering staff finishes the dinner setup.
"Liv!" Emma blows me a kiss while she walks back down the aisle with David and mouths "thank you". I blow her a kiss back, then turn to Blair who's still looking suspiciously misty-eyed.
"Are you crying?" I tease.
She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, grinning sheepishly. "What can I say? Weddings get to me. Unlike some ice queens I know."
"Ice queen?" I arch an eyebrow. "That's a bit harsh. I orchestrated this entire romantic circus out of the pure goodness of my charitable heart."
Blair laughs. "Actually," she says, her voice dropping lower as she wraps an arm around me, "I don't think you're an ice queen at all. I think you're someone who feels everything so deeply that you have to pretend you don't feel anything at all."
I roll my eyes and wave her off. "Wow, that's very deep, Dr. Freud. Did you get your psychology degree from the gym?"
She grins. "Nice deflection, Boss."
"Whatever." I nudge her along. "Come on, we need to get to the champagne station. I have to wrangle the bridal party for photos and make sure the receiving line doesn't turn into chaos."
24
BLAIR
The dinner service has wrapped up, the cake has been cut and served, and the guests are getting louder. I'm sitting at the head table, nursing a beer and watching the farm wedding in full swing. The remainder of Emma's three-tiered cake sits on a side table, white fondant roses scattered at the base. Kids are running between tables and Liv's Uncle Pete is telling increasingly inappropriate stories to anyone within earshot.
The band that was indeed booked for the wrong date but was luckily available today is positioned near the makeshift dance floor—a section of artificial turf. They're playing something slow and romantic while Emma and David prepare for their first dance as husband and wife.
I look at Liv beside me. She's been in motion all evening, coordinating the dinner service, managing the photographer, and making sure every single detail runs smoothly. But now, for the first time today, she's sitting still. Her shoulders have finally dropped and she's blowing out her cheeks like she needed a breather.
Emma beams as David takes her hand for their first dance. David whispers something in Emma's ear that makes her laugh, and she throws her head back with pure joy.
The band begins "At Last" by Etta James, and Emma melts into David's arms like she belongs there.
Bill Barnes wipes his eyes while Moira clutches his arm, both of them beaming.
There's something undeniably moving about watching two people who are genuinely, completely in love. I understand why Liv is cynical about marriage after what happened to her. Hell, I'd probably feel the same way if someone had betrayed me like that. But some people get it right.
The song ends, and the guests erupt into applause. Emma and David kiss, still swaying slightly to music that's no longer playing, lost in their own little world.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the lead singer announces into his microphone, "we'd like to invite you all to join the bride and groom for a dance."
This is my cue. I stand up and extend my hand toward Liv, who's still sitting and staring at her sister with an unreadable expression.
"Dance with me," I say.
She looks up at me with surprise, then shakes her head, almost shyly. "I can't. I should check on the catering staff, make sure they're handling the cleanup properly. And the photographer needs to get those family group shots we discussed, and?—"
"Nonsense," I interrupt, keeping my hand extended. "You're done for today. You've done more than enough, and everything's running smoothly. Besides," I add, "your family will expect us to dance. We're madly in love, remember?"
She hesitates for another moment, then takes my hand. "Fine. But just one song."
I lead her onto the dance floor, where several other couples are already swaying to the next song. When I turn to face Liv, I'm struck by how beautiful she looks. She's wearing a navy wrap dress with a low neckline that makes it a struggle to ignore her cleavage, and the tie accentuates her waist. Her dark hair has come slightly loose from its style, and there's a flush across her cheekbones.
I place one hand on her waist and take her other hand in mine, and she steps closer, her free hand resting on my shoulder. We start moving together, and I'm surprised by how naturally we fit. She follows my lead easily, like we've done this before.
"You did an incredible thing today," I tell her as we dance. She smells so good.
Liv shakes her head, looking embarrassed by the praise. "It was a team effort. You, Marcus, Beth, Mom and Dad, the florists?—"
"Just take the compliment," I interrupt her. "You turned a disaster into something beautiful."
