I took a sip of champagne, choosing my words carefully. “If anything, it would be destination. But most women have people to invite. Family to walk them down the aisle. Bridesmaids who’ve known them since childhood.” I shrugged. “It’s just me. Always has been.”
His brows pulled together. “What do you mean, just you?”
“I mean, I don’t have family, Lesley. No siblings, no aunts and uncles who actually care, no parents to give speeches about how proud they are.” I looked back at the happy bride surrounded by her family. “A wedding is supposed to be about bringing two families together. I don’t have a family to bring.”
He was quiet for a long moment, studying my face for the lie, when he didn’t find it, he replied, “I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you? We don’t exactly share our deepest secrets.”
His hand found mine under the table, fingers intertwining. “Maybe we should.”
I stood, feeling the need to get some air. Thinking about my absent family was still a sore subject for me. He didn’t need to know my sob story to be my fake husband.
I found myself on the terrace overlooking the golf course, the evening air cooled my heated skin; it was as hot as two rats in a wool sock in there. Plus, things had been shifting slowly into territory I wasn’t sure how to chart.
“This spot taken?” I heard from beside me. It wasn’t Lesley, but the man who approached was older, maybe in his fifties, with silver at his temples and laugh lines that spoke of a life well-lived.
“Nope, outside is free to everyone.”
He smiled, extending his hand. “I’m Eric. Friend of the family,” he gestured toward the reception. “Beautiful ceremony. Taiwan’s a lucky man.”
I accepted his handshake. “I’m Colecion. And yes, it was lovely.” I smiled, but not for long. The last thing I needed was for my shark to smell blood in the water.
“Are you family or a friend?”
“Family, I guess. I’m Taiwan’s cousin’s wife.” The words still felt strange in my mouth.
“Ah, the mysterious Mrs. Grimson.” His smile was warm, fatherly. “Taiwan mentioned his cousin finally settled down. Good for him, and good for you, from what I hear.”
We spent a few minutes in comfortable conversation about the ceremony, the venue, and the kind of small talk that happens at weddings between people who don’t really know each other but are connected by family ties. He told me about his wife, whowas the wedding planner. I gave my props because she had done a beautiful job.
“Everything alright out here?”
Lesley’s voice cut through our conversation, and I should’ve known he wasn’t going to let me out of his sight for long. I turned to find him standing in the doorway to the terrace, his expression unreadable.
“Just talking business,” I said. “Eric’s wife is an event planner, too. She did the wedding.”
“Beautiful job. Ready to go back inside, baby? They’re about to cut the cake.”
“Actually, I should head back in myself,” Eric said, pocketing his phone. “Colecion, it was a pleasure. I’ll make sure Monica receives your praise.”
After Eric headed inside, Lesley moved to stand beside me at the terrace railing.
The possessiveness in his voice was unmistakable.
“Making friends?” he asked.
“Having a conversation. Is that not allowed?”
“Depends on what kind of conversation.” His eyes were darker now, that calm mask slipping just enough for me to see the slight jealousy underneath.
“Come on,” he said, his hand moving to the small of my back. “Let’s go inside. I don’t like you being out here alone.”
The band started playingThe Closer I Get to Youand couples made their way to the dance floor. This was my song.
“Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand. On the dance floor, he pulled me close, and we swayed to the music. His strong arms wrapped around me, and for a second, I felt like we were a real couple.
“For what it’s worth,” he said softly, “you wouldn’t have been alone. If you’d wanted a wedding, a nigga would’ve made sure you had everything you wanted.”
