“Oh, everything’s perfect. I’m now married, and everyone I love is here and happy. I meant, finally, I get a chance to talk to you!”
I shift on the chair, not loving the way I suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining down on me, interrogation style. “Oh, um. What do you want to talk about?”
“Gosh, Sadie, I don’t know, what could we possibly talk about.” She’s teasing, I know it, but I’m still tense with worry. The only other time I’ve had to spend with a friend one-on-one since this whole thing started was with Willow that second day of my arrangement with Maverick. And it was still so new, I was in shock and fumbled my way through somehow. But Heidi knows me better than Willow. Which is going to make this a lot harder, I just know it.
“Max’s family is lovely, and I see why you love it here. This part of the island is gorgeous,” I say, trying to deflect. But Heidi sees right through me.
“Nice try, girlfriend. We’re not talking about my amazing in-laws or this slice of heaven I get to call home. We’re talking about the broody tattooed bad boy of baseball that is so obviously falling in love with you.”
A wave of guilt crashes over me. I hate having to lie to anyone, but hearing my friends be so happy about something that isn’t even real makes me sick to my stomach.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I say, perhaps a little too quickly when I hear Heidi’s sound of surprise. “I mean, it’s not really serious or anything. We’re just, I mean…”Crap.Heidi’s face is a picture of dismay and disbelief and I know I’m screwing up big-time. “We’re taking it slow. That’s all.”
Her face clears, and I breathe a secret sigh of relief.
“Of course. I get it, it can’t be easy dating someone who’s so much in the public eye. He doesn’t exactly have a great reputation.” Heidi frowns. “But he’s got to be more than what the media shows, or you wouldn’t be with him. The Sadie I know is way too smart to fall for someone who’s not good for her.”
Now that guilt is souring even further in my stomach. She’s right, Maverick is much more than what the media shows. But she’s also wrong. Because apparently, I’m not smart enough to not fall for a man like him.
“Exactly,” I say, clearing my throat. “The media paints a picture, but it’s not the whole picture, you know?”
“I knew it. So has he told you what happened the night of his accident?”
Um, no. That would require him talking to me. Opening up to me. And that’s never going to happen.
But I can’t tell Heidi that. “It’s kind of a sensitive subject. Sorry, Heidi.” I give her an apologetic smile, hoping she’ll accept my nonanswer.
“Oh my gosh, of course. I’m sorry, here I am being all nosy when you’re just trying to protect your man. Well, as long as he treats you well, he’s good in my book.” She pats my hand just as we hear someone calling her name.
“There you are, love.” Max leans down to kiss his bride, and that small gesture is so overflowing with love, it makes my cheeks heat. “Sorry to interrupt your girl chat, but they want to do the bouquet toss.”
Heidi jumps to her feet, taking Max’s hand and gesturing to me with the other. “C’mon, Sadie, I’ll try to aim it at you.” She gives me a wink as I try to think up a way to get out of this, but Heidi Morgan — no, Heidi Donnelly now — is a force of nature when she wants to be. And the next thing I know, I’m being dragged back into the reception and to a small group of women all laughing and smiling. I glance around but don’t see Maverick anywhere. Good, maybe he’ll miss this embarrassing moment.
I duck behind someone, hoping Heidi’s aim is terrible. But the next minute, flowers are flying through the air, straight at me, and I instinctively put my hands up. Not to catch them, just to avoid a face full of wildflowers.
But when a cheer goes up, I realize I have, in fact, caught the damn bouquet. And of course, when I look to the side, there’s Maverick, his hands in his charcoal dress pants, looking like the sexiest cover model ever with his messy curly hair, tattoos peekingout from under the shirt that strains to cover his muscles. He’s staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face.
Then I’m being gently pushed in his direction and someone — I think it’s Max’s sister Kat — is whispering to me, “Go and dance with your man.”
I reach his side and look up at him, the flowers in my hand forgotten. “We don’t have to do this,” I whisper, unsure if the intense look he’s giving me is annoyance, discomfort, or something else. Either way, I feel compelled to give him an out, an excuse if this is not okay with him.
“Sadie. I’m gonna dance with you.”
His rumbling voice makes me inhale sharply. Slowly, methodically, he takes the flowers from me and sets them down on the table next to us. Then, taking my hand in his, he leads us out onto the dance floor where a few couples are slow dancing to Ed Sheeran’s voice. Maverick lifts my hand to his shoulder, giving me a small quirk of his lips. “Just don’t hold too tightly on that side.”
I move to snatch my hand away when I realize it’s his injured side, but he just takes it and puts my hand right back. “It’s fine, Specs. Just wanted you to be aware.”
“Maverick, we don’t have to do this,” I whisper, only to get a narrowing of his eyes back at me.
“Yeah. We do. I’m not the kind of guy to come to a wedding with my girl and not dance with her.”
My mouth goes dry at hearing him saymy girleven though I know he meant it hypothetically. Lord, this is bad. My feelings are like a runaway train, but there’s no station on this track.No final destination that could possibly result in anything but heartache.
Still, I let him take my other hand and interlace our fingers. And then I let him draw me close, his hand on the small of my back, fingers spread wide, holding me against him. The heat from his hand burns through my dress. I feel surrounded by him, consumed by him. And when his lips graze my ear, I know he feels me shiver.
“Relax, Specs. Try to look like you want to be here. In my arms.”
I choke out a laugh at the ridiculousness of this. Here I was, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it believable in front of everyone for the weekend, and instead, I’m the one holding back and acting stiff and uncomfortable. His thumb starts to stroke up and down on my back, and that small movement somehow settles me.
