This Can't Be Love (Whispering Bay Romance 5)

Luke adjusted his cufflinks then slipped on his black tuxedo jacket. August in Atlanta was sweltering and today was no exception. Good thing this wasn’t one of those outdoor weddings. Hopefully, The Georgian Terrace was the like the rest of the hotels downtown and had the AC on full arctic blast. But if he was being honest, the humid summer weather wasn’t the only thing making him sweat. Why had he agreed to go to Torie’s wedding? Because, yeah, despite what he’d told Ethan and Julie last night, this was weird.

But no matter what it might seem to almost everyone else, he and Torie weren’t enemies. Sure, they’d dated for almost three years, and the relationship had ended on a sour note, but then she’d met Jeff, and here they were. Two hours before countdown. He was happy for her. Maybe even a little relieved, too. But other than his mother, just about everyone else thought he was crazy for attending his ex’s wedding.

What does Luke want?

Luke wants to strip out of this monkey suit, open up a cold can of beer, and watch the Braves on TV tonight. An image of Sarah, snuggled next to him on the couch, making snarky comments about the way the players got ready at the mound before going to bat, popped into his head, making him smile. After the game, he’d take her to bed and—no, he wouldn’t be able to wait. Sometime during the game, she’d do or say something so completely adorable that he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d lay her back on his big leather couch and do her right there between innings.

Yeah, that’s what Luke wanted.

He glanced over to see Sarah standing in the doorway. At least, his brain told him this had to be Sarah, because who else would it be?

He went to speak but nothing came out of his mouth. He’d always thought she was pretty. She had a wholesome, girl-next-door quality about her that he found appealing. But this woman standing in front of him wasn’t just pretty or beautiful even. She was…

“You look gorgeous,” he said finding his voice.

She slowly turned around. “It’s the dress. It belongs to Lauren Miller.”

No, it’s you.

“You don’t think it’s too tight, do you? I tried sitting down a few times and it seems okay.”

“It’s not too tight.”

“And it’s not too…much? I know this is black-tie but—”

“It’s perfect.” You’re perfect. He cleared his throat, then glanced down at his watch. “You ready to go?”

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nbsp; “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He put out his elbow and she wrapped her arm around him, allowing him to escort her out of the condo to the elevators that took them straight to the parking garage. He noticed she took slow deliberate steps. “You’ve grown,” he joked.

“I’m wearing four-inch heels, so yeah, I’m probably just a little clumsy right now.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.”

“I’m counting on it, mister.”

He grinned. Last night after dinner, she’d been pensive. He’d wanted to ask her if there was something wrong, but he’d held back. Now, however, she seemed more like herself.

He clicked the lock button to the silver Audi he’d rented for the day.

She looked surprised. “No truck?”

“I picked this up for the night. Unless you’d rather climb into the front seat of my truck wearing that dress and those heels?”

“No, thank you,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.

He laughed. “I didn’t think so.”

Both the wedding and the reception were being held at The Georgian Terrace, one of Atlanta’s oldest and most beautiful hotels. Luke handed his key to the valet and escorted Sarah into the elegant building. They made their way to a salon where appetizers and drinks were being served. There must have been about two hundred guests, socializing and drinking champagne.

His cell phone pinged.

Luke, don’t forget to try the mushroom canapes. They were my suggestion. And for God’s sake, try to catch the garter! It’s good luck.

He sighed and put his phone away. Why his mother had involved herself with the details of Torie’s wedding, he had no idea. She had her own mother, for God’s sake. Speaking of which, Torie’s mother was glaring at him from across the room. Not that he blamed her, he supposed. Despite the cold air conditioning inside the hotel, a trickle of sweat ran down his back. Why had he come here again?