“They’re not on my land.”
“That’s the only reason they’re still alive?”
I stare at him.
He laughs and claps my shoulder. “Come on. I’ll get you checked in, then introduce you to a few people.”
“I don’t need introductions.”
“You’re the best man.”
“I’m aware.”
“Best men meet people.”
“Best men stand where they’re told and hand over rings.”
Mindy laughs and loops her arm through Noah’s. “Let him breathe for five minutes. He just got here.”
I like her for that. Noah chose well.
I let them guide me toward the desk, where a woman in a white blouse hands me a key card and tells me about the pool, the spa, the restaurants, the breakfast hours, the beach path, the fitness center, the luau, and at least six other things I have no intention of using. I take the packet because refusing it would make Mindy fuss, then tuck it under my arm without reading a word.
I just need to get through this hour, then dinner, then whatever wedding thing comes next. Rehearsal. Ceremony. Pictures. Reception. Forty-eight hours from now, this weekend will be over and I’ll be on my way home.
Then I see her.
She walks in from the terrace with a garment bag over one arm and a clipboard tucked against her chest, talking to an older woman while she points toward the hallway near the elevators. Her dress is the color of a ripe peach, soft against her sun-kissed skin, fitted over full hips and a rounded ass that makes every thought in my head stop cold. Her dark hair is pinned up with loose pieces around her face, and when she smiles at something the older woman says, the entire goddamn lobby seems to tilt toward her.
I go still. Noah is saying something beside me, but I don’t hear him. I watch the woman shift the garment bag higher on her arm, watch the ample curve of her waist, the smooth line of her bare shoulder, the way she moves with purpose without rushing. She looks warm. Open. Comfortable in this bright, loud place in a way I will never be.
Then her eyes land on me.
Her steps slow.
It’s only a second. Maybe less. But she looks me over from my boots to my shoulders to my face, and her smile changes into something…different. Something private enough to put heat low in my gut. I don’t smile back. I don’t know if I remember how. I just stand there holding my duffel bag, staring at a woman I’ve never met while my body decides she matters.
Fuck.
Mindy follows my line of sight and lights up. “Oh, good. Rosalyn’s here.”
Rosalyn.
The name settles in my chest. Hard.
Mindy waves her over. “Roz, come meet Barrett.”
Rosalyn says something to the older woman, hands off the garment bag, and walks toward us. Every step makes me more aware of my hands, my size, my sweat-darkened shirt, the fact that I probably look as out of place as I feel. She doesn’t seem bothered by any of it. If anything, her smile gets brighter when she stops in front of me and tips her head back to meet my eyes.
“You must be the mountain brother,” she says.Her voice is soft, but there’s humor in it.
“Barrett,” I say.
“I’m Rosalyn. Maid of honor.” She holds out her hand. Her fingers are overshadowed by my own, but her grip is steady. “Mindy told me you live somewhere with no cell service and actual bears.”
“Some cell service.”
“So the bears part is true.”
