“They sound like amazing people,” Tristan says.
“So do yours.”
I was so lost in both the memory and talking to Tristan I barely noticed how close we’d gotten to the resort until he pulls on my hand until I stop. From the corner of my eye, I see people from the wedding party on the beach. Ashley and Rainey are laying out, working on their tans, while their significant others surf. Ashley’s other bridesmaid, Paige, is flirting with a group of guys sitting under an umbrella. I don’t see Mark and Shannon anywhere, but I’m not concerned about where they are.
In fact, as Tristan steps close to me, my mind blanks of everything but him. The anticipation is too much, and as I tilt my head back, my lips part, and I know this is it. We both want the kiss, and I’m not leaving this beach without knowing the feel of his mouth against mine.
“Kaylee,” he says, running his fingers up my arms to my shoulders and then burying his hands in my hair. “I need to taste you. I’m dying to find out how good we are.”
He doesn’t ask for permission, but I know that’s what he’s looking for. I place my hands on his chest, my palms flat on his broad pecs. His sun-kissed skin is warm and smooth, and I want him. Everything about him.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Tristan, yes.”
With the yearning I see in his eyes, I expect it to be rough, a man taking what he wants so badly he loses control. But Tristan moves with slow intention. His mouth gently brushes over mine, the contact barely there, but he’s still able to steal my breath. He teases me, nipping at my bottom lip, and I gasp, giving him the opening he needs to deepen the kiss.
His tongue slips inside, and I melt into him, a soft moan escaping, and he swallows the sound. My mouth moves against his and my heart pounds in my chest and as I press against him, it’s his heart racing with an excitement that matches my own.
I’ve never ached like this, and all I can think about is getting him alone. I wantmorefrom this man. His grip tightens on my hair for a moment before he suddenly releases his hold. Then, he breaks the kiss but keeps me close, his forehead pressed against mine. “That was just the beginning, sweetheart. But now, we have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.”
Damn it.Another event before I finally get him to myself.
Tonight, I have no intention of staying on my side of the bed.
None at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kaylee
Later that nightis the wedding rehearsal. We all have dinner in the resort’s restaurant once again. This time, Mark is seated at the other end of the table, and I’m sure that was done intentionally and I’m grateful. I don’t want more drama from the man, especially since tonight and tomorrow should only be about Ashley and Eric. They’re important to me and the whole reason we’re here. I don’t want friction between me and my ex to ruin their special day. Tristan is seated beside me again. Any uncertainty or awkwardness I felt yesterday faded over the course of the day, and we chat easily with each other and the people around us.
After dinner, we head back to the beach. The sun has fully set, but the back of the resort has lights that illuminate its private stretch of beach, where the ceremony will take place tomorrow. White folding chairs are already set up in the sand along with an archway for the bride and groom. Aunt Joanne takes charge, going over how everything will proceed tomorrow. They plan a short and simple ceremony, with about fifty guests and an acoustic guitar player singing “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran, Ashley and Eric’s song.
When Aunt Joanne directs the bridesmaids and groomsmen to stand together, Rainey and Lucas are together and Tristan is with Paige. As the maid of honor, I’m stuck walking beside Mark, something that never occurred to me. Ashley mouths,I’m sorry, to me and I shake my head. I can handle this for my cousin.At first, it really doesn’t bother me. I’m truly over the man, and walking twenty feet at his side shouldn’t be a big deal.
We stand beside each other, watching the other members of the wedding party walk together first.
“I’m worried about you, Kay-Kay,” Mark says, using a nickname he gave me when we were together. Maybe he’s trying to trigger sweet nostalgia, but he must be forgetting that I never liked that stupid, childish nickname.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes shifting to the movement ahead of us.
Tristan and Paige are walking toward the arch while Eric’s mother clocks their timing. She and my aunt Joanne have decided they want to time the progression down the makeshift aisle so that the song being performed will end just as Ashley reaches the arch. It’s a little intense for a laid-back beach wedding, but we’re all just going with it. Before I went into the corporate event planning business, I interned for a wedding planner and I’m well aware it’s a good idea to do whatever the mother of the bride or groom want, within reason, that is.
“I’m concerned about you dating Tristan,” Mark says, pulling my attention back to him. “I don’t think it’s a good match. He’s going to hurt you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Tristan and I are none of your business. Now, be quiet and focus on the rehearsal,” I mutter.
Tristan and Paige have reached the arch, so Rainey and Lucas begin their walk.
“I didn’t want to tell you this,” Mark says, his tone of voice contrary to his words. He’s enjoying this conversation too much. “But I think you should know that I heard Tristan talking to Lucas this morning. He said you’re different from his usual type, you know, all those models he’s gone out with in the past. If he’s already realized that, how long do you think he’s going to stick around?”
I do my best not to throttle him, grinding my teeth to keep quiet. I know he’s trying to hurt me, but I also know the truth. Despite our kiss and killer chemistry, I’m not actually dating Tristan. Whatever he thinks of me, I know he respects me and I doubt he’d deliberately hurt me. He just wouldn’t want me for his future. Then again, he doesn’t seem to want those models for the long-term either. Still, there’s an ache in my chest as I think about him comparing me to the many women he’s dated before.
“Shut up, Mark.” I can’t find any other words.
“I’m sorry, Kay-Kay,” he says, and now there’s a surprising softness in his eyes, as if he’s being sincere. “I just don’t want you to get hurt when he moves on to another woman.”
This is the part of Mark I fell for originally, the part that seemed to care about me. “As much as I appreciate your concern…” I trail off, unsure how to respond.
