I take a step in her direction, intending to drop to my knees. Pull her into an embrace and never let go. But my brother shouts again and he’s closer this time. “Petra! Barry?”
“Fuck,” I growl through my teeth. “We are going to talk about this later,” I say to Petra, making a miserable sound over the way she huddles into herself. “Please put your clothes on, princess. If he sees you naked, I’m going to have to kill him on his wedding day and bury him in these woods.”
“Roger that,” she murmurs, standing up to pull on her shorts.
Loath to leave her for a second after what she just said to me, but having no choice, I pocket the boxes of condoms and stomp down to the trail, slapping leaves off my shirt and the denim knees of my jeans as I go. “What?” I snarl at Craig, as I spot him coming down the path, looking harried.
“Oh. There you are.” When we’re within a few feet of each other, his steps slow down significantly. “Jesus, man. What happened to you?”
“Petra and I went for a walk,” I enunciate, daring him to make a smart-ass remark.
Amusement twinkles in his eyes. “Oh.” He clears his throat, the mirth dying as quickly as it appeared. “We’re having a bit of a problem back at wedding headquarters.”
I arch a brow, barely able to concentrate on what my brother is saying. All I can hear is Petra telling me she’s lonely after we have sex. “What is it?”
“Karen’s makeup artist got Covid. She just called to cancel.” Craig paces away, raking ten fingers through his hair. “Karen is losing her shit, dude. She doesn’t have a makeup artist on her wedding day.”
“Did somebody say makeup artist?”
Every muscle in my body goes on high alert when Petra comes stumbling toward us, out of the woods and onto the path. She’s fully clothed, if you can call a sports bra and shorts “fully clothed” (I don’t), but she looks like she’s been attacked by a pack of roving wolves. Mud streaks on her arms, legs and back. Twigs in her hair. Chafe markseverywhere. My God.Idid that to her. A girl I outmatch in strengthandsize.
Thankfully, she’s found a way to wipe the come off her stomach.
Probably with the use of my sweatshirt, which she’s holding in her hand.
Craig’s jaw drops and he looks at me, horrified. Accusatory.
Can I blame him?
“Uh…” Craig begins.
“I know. I know. I look a little worse for the wear. It’s my fault. I slipped down an embankment, and it must have rained overnight, becausehello mud.” Petra whips a phone out of the pocket of her shorts. “What is Karen’s phone number? I’ll text her some of my work. Mainly, my subjects are my sisters, but I am way better than nothing.”
Craig rattles off a number.
Petra fires off a few pics and gets a response within fifteen seconds.
Her chest inflates and she does a little dance, beaming at me, causing my pulse to skitter. “She loves the pictures I sent. She’s going to let me do her makeup.Bridalmakeup.”
Craig doubles over, planting his hands on his knees. “Oh, thank God. Crisis averted.”
Petra is already running up the path, toward the resort entrance. “I’m just going to take a quick shower, grab my bag of tricks and go have a consult.” She leaps into the air, doing a full three sixty. “I’m doing the bride’s makeup!”
I stare after her retreating form with a lodgment in my throat.
How can I only have one more day with her?
“Hey, man,” Craig says, shaking me by the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I rasp.
He laughs. “Everyone loves her. Especially Grandma.” He claps me on the shoulder. “But I know she didn’t fall down an embankment. Be a little more aware of your own strength. You could hurt her.”
My stomach roils and now, I’m doubled over, too, alongside my brother.
“Women, right?” Craig laughs, shouldering me.
I shoulder him back, and in that moment, I’m amazed how Petra has brought me closer to my family, simply by existing. Is there a possibility that she’ll allow me to see her past this weekend? In a way that isn’t a paid job?
