Logan’s gaze started at my rhinestone strapped sandals and worked its way up, lingering on the royal blue, one-shoulder dress that matched my eyes. He spent an indecent amount of time staring at my chest. He liked what he saw. I understood. It took an iron grip on my self-control to keep my indecent thoughts from seeping onto my face, or out of my mouth, as he approached me.
“You look amazing.” He kissed my cheek.
“I believe that’s my line.”
“Come on, I’ve got a seat for you beside Chelsea.”
Chelsea. That was the friendly cousin’s name I had chatted with during the rehearsal. I slipped my arm into Logan’s, and just as we crossed through the interior, Garrett passed me a ceremony program. It was beautifully understated in design, and Logan to a tee.
“Don’t critique me too hard,” he said. “Hilary was rather specific.”
“No promises.”
As stated, Chelsea had an open spot beside her that I slid into, giving her a smile. She looked nervous, rereading the weathered piece of paper in her hand that had notes written in the margin. I admired the program while the string quartet began the processional.
Sometimes weddings seem to last a lifetime, and others seem impossibly short, and this one fell into the latter category. Hilary looked stunning in her antique lace dress. Her wild mane of hair had been styled back into a soft up-do with a cathedral veil pinned beneath. And while Nick was a handsome groom, my eyes were glued to the man on his left.
Despite her notes, Chelsea zipped through the reading in less than a minute. It was a big wedding, and I could understand why she’d been nervous. The kiss at the end was just like Nick and Hilary – adorable. He kissed her much too quickly, so she went back for seconds, drawing chuckles from the guests. Logan found me after the recessional, introducing me to some aunts and uncles, and nice people I had absolutely no hope of remembering.
“We’ve got pictures now,” he said. “I’ll come find you as soon as I can when we’re done.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got Chelsea to latch onto,” I joked. Although, not really.
I waited until the parking lot drained of cars and then drove the ten minutes to the country club. Cocktail hour had already begun in the garden behind the ballroom. Servers with silver trays offered various hors d’oeuvres, and a line had formed at the open bar. Chelsea spotted me and waved me over.
More family to meet, and the questions began now. How did you two meet? How long have you been together? And my personal favorite, How do you feel about kids? Yikes. I had to remind myself of the lie since it had been an actual week. Even with the lie, two months dating seemed a bit soon to be prying into that.
I worked my way through the line beside Chelsea to get a rum and Diet Coke.
“It was a disaster,” she said about her reading. “Did you understand a single word?”
“You enunciated really well.”
“Aw, you’re sweet, but you’re not a convincing liar.” Chelsea laughed and swirled her drink.
We stood off to one side of the garden where the perfume from the rose bushes clung heavy in the air. It was a beautiful day, although hot. Logan must be sweating up a storm in that tux, which of course made me think about when he’d appeared shirtless and drenched in sweat this morning.
“What the hell?” Chelsea muttered under her breath. She turned to me, panic streaking her face. “Um, maybe you should—”
A woman approached us, staying on the path so she wouldn’t sink into the soft grass, her slender legs extending above stiletto-clad feet. She was oblivious to the effects of the sun, not a perfectly-styled hair out of place. It was like looking in the mirror, only one that reflected back the complete opposite of what I was. For instance, I was an inch shorter than average with thick thighs, whereas she was tall and rail-thin. Blonde, with a model pouty face that men seem to find so appealing. She looked like she was maybe thirty. Picture-perfect.
She gave Chelsea a smile, but it was cold and unfeeling.
“Wow, it’s been a while.” I’d known Chelsea all of three hours, and I could tell this was strained.
“Yeah,” the blonde said. I don’t think she was capable of sweating. Like it was beneath her. “Ho
w have you been?”
“Good. And yourself?”
The blonde’s flat smile continued. “I’ve been great.”
“Good for you. I’m a little surprised to see you here.” Chelsea’s voice was uneven. “And I can think of some other people who might be surprised, too.”
The blonde gave a tinny laugh. “Susan invited my parents, but my dad’s sick. Nick’s practically family to me, so, here I am.” Her dusty green eyes turned to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met, you must be from Hilary’s side.”
She held a manicured hand out to me for a handshake, which I took. Her cold hand was soft like silk. How the hell was she cold in this heat?