“Scott, I’m working.”
“Humor me for just this song.” I nuzzle her neck. Around us, two hundred guests exist in their own orbits.
Six months ago, I stood in our house and watched her come through the door. A sight I only dreamed of seeing.
Three months ago, we watched the fiasco that was The One That Got Away in our small living room. We were ecstatic to find out Emily and Zayne not only started a relationship together shortly after we left despite the coupling ceremony, but they also had won the one hundred thousand dollars.
Four weeks ago, she stood in a white dress next to me in a Dallas courthouse as we made our promises of forever and said I do like it was the simplest decision we’ve ever made. And ever since, I couldn’t be happier.
Lyla’s fingers lace through mine.
I would have married her anywhere. Hell, I would have married her in the parking lot if she’d asked.
“You okay?” Her voice is warm and low against my neck.
“Fantastic.”
She tilts her head back just far enough to look at me. The purple silk of her dress catches the string lights overhead, and the gold band on her ring finger catches everything else. Her eyes stare softly into mine. Unguarded. Certain.
“Still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper to her.
She blushes. One of my favorite reactions from her—a close second to her moans.
“How on earth did we get here?”
The corner of my mouth curves. “Should I tell the scenic version?”
She laughs as I pull her a half-step closer.
The string quartet somewhere behind us shifts into something slower. The gardenias mingle with faint champagne and the warm Texas night, drifting through the open floor-to-ceiling windows. Somewhere down the corridor, muffled by two sets of closed doors, a processional is just getting underway. The venue is running two events tonight, another couple in the east wing still at the altar. Around us, dinner conversation, glasses clinking, the low hum of a reception functioning exactly the way it should. I don’t hear any of it. Only Lyla’s even breathing, slowing to match mine. I have her completely relaxed in my arms.
Beyond Lyla and the dance floor, I notice Damon.
A few weeks ago, he popped in for a visit and has been spending time here ever since. He’s actually become a good friend.
“Do you think Damon will continue to stay in town?”
Lyla turns her head in Damon’s direction. “Hope so. I think Dallas is growing on him.”
Damon stands near one of the large windows, slightly apart from the nearest cluster of guests. He wears a meticulous charcoal suit, not a thread out of place. A glass of scotch sits on the high-top beside him. Untouched.
As if he senses eyes on him, his gaze cuts across the room and finds Lyla and me.
He nods once with a small smile.
I give him the same.
Then he walks toward us, tapping Lyla on the shoulder. “I’m going to head out. Thanks for letting me watch you work. It was a lot of fun.”
She beams. “Happy for you to join us. Let’s get together next week.”
“You bet. And my treat this time, Bennett.” he says as he moves toward the valet doors, waving with one hand and burying the other in his pants pocket.
“He’s leaving early,” Lyla murmurs against my shoulder, eyes tracking the movement.
“You know how he is. This isn’t exactly his scene. And…let’s be honest, he’s a bit of a workaholic.”
She nods in agreement. “Very true. You think he’ll find someone worth staying permanently for?”
