Tristan looks out the window, where the ocean is visible, the newly risen moon reflected on the surface. “I hope so. I’d love lobster tonight and since we’re by the water, hopefully that’s one of the selections.”
I laugh. “I was just thinking that myself. Umm, I need to freshen up and change. Mind if I use the bathroom?” I tip my head toward the open door across the way.
“Be my guest. I can change out here.”
I glance from him to the suitcase on the sofa and back again. “We’ll pick up the conversation of who sleeps where when we get back. By the way, I intend to win.” Not wanting to argue now, I spin on my heel and step over to my suitcase, but Tristan is there and lifts it onto the opened luggage stand.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” he says.
I get my things together and stride into the bathroom where I touch up my lipstick and run my fingers through my long hair. I had my blonde highlights done at the salon yesterday, and I’m happy with the results. I may be dateless, but at least I look good.
I change into a hot pink sundress, turning to see the final look in the mirror. The neckline dips low enough to show off my cleavage in a tasteful way. Not enough to look tacky or get any tongues wagging at the wedding.
I just don’t want to deal with the “Oh, poor Kaylee, her boyfriend dumped her before her cousin’s wedding. No matter how many times I might tell them he’s just sick—okay, I was going to pretend Cole was my boyfriend to avoid pitying glances—they’ll assume the worst, like a breakup or being dumped the morning we were supposed to leave. That’s the way it goes when your ex-boyfriend is attending the same wedding with the woman he started dating just two weeks after your relationship ended.
It doesn’t matter that I’m perfectly happy with my situation and better off without Mark’s emotional distance or critical comments. Never mind the fact thatI’mthe one who dumpedhim. All everyone is going to see is a thirty-year-old woman that still hasn’t moved on. The truth doesn’t matter. The optics do. That’s why I invited my friend to be my date this weekend. It’s just a shame he couldn’t make it. All I can do is act like I don’t mind being here alone.
I walk out of the bathroom to find Tristan has changed clothing from the dark jeans and collared short-sleeve shirt to a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt that’s unbuttoned at the collar. No matter what he wears, he draws me to him. Pathetic, but true. The scent of his cologne fills the room and ignites the desire I thought I’d banked earlier.
“Hi,” I say so he knows I’m here.
He turns, sees me, and his sexy mouth lifts in a wide grin. “You look gorgeous,” he tells me, and it’s all I can do not to swoon.
I smile and give a little curtsey.
“Ready?” he asks.
I lift my shoes from the suitcase, slip into the pumps, and quickly put a few necessities into a small purse. “Now I am.”
Together we head to the elevator and take it down to the first floor where the restaurant is located. All the information is onthe couple’s website and I’ve memorized most of what we need to know. I’m good at that, though not at getting to places on time. But tonight I managed.
When we step off the elevator, it’s obvious the crowd has thinned. The rush of people arriving to check in is much smaller and we only have to dodge a single luggage cart as we make our way to the restaurant. There’s a hostess stand just inside the entrance, and beyond her is a horseshoe-shaped bar area where I see several familiar faces there, but the bride and groom are yet to arrive.
The hostess turns to us. “Can I help you?”
“We’re with the wedding party,” Tristan tells her.
Her gaze runs over him and a small smile lifts her lips. Yes, he’s impressive, I think to myself, hating how other women react to Tristan. Which is ridiculous. He’s not my date.
She nods. “You can join everyone inside,” she says, gesturing toward the bar area.
We walk inside and look for Rainey and Lucas, but so far they aren’t here. In the corner of the room, my mother is talking with my aunt Joanne, the mother of the bride, and Ashley’s friend, Paige, another bridesmaid, is flirting with a blond-haired man. Her glassy eyes make her look like she’s already had a little too much to drink, and I know she’s one of my cousin’s louder friends. I hope the alcohol doesn’t make things worse.
“I’m going to grab a beer,” Tristan says. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’ll go talk to my mom.” I tip my head toward where she’s standing.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.” He strides over to the bar and leans in.
The pretty bartender’s eyes light up when she sees him, and I sigh. None of your business, I tell myself, even as I wonder if he’ll ask for her phone number.
I shake my head and spin around in the opposite direction.
“Kaylee!” I recognize his voice before I see his face, and my shoulders bunch up with tension.
I force a plastic smile and slowly pivot to face my ex, his arm draped around the shoulders of a woman with an hourglass figure and pouty lips. She runs an assessing gaze over me, and I straighten my shoulders. I understand her interest. After all, I’m the ex and she’s bound to be curious.
