She smiled down at Shane. “But it is pretty great.”
“You’re pretty great,” Shane said, tugging her into his lap and kissing her bare shoulder. The wedding photographer swooped in, capturing the picture for posterity, a good one by the looks of it.
Aiden picked the moment to excuse himself for a refill.
Or maybe two.
* * *
Sadie caught movement out of the corner of her eye and swept her attention away from Crickitt’s attentive brother to see Aiden tracking his way across the tent in that easygoing lope of his.
She’d never seen him in a suit until she preceded Crickitt down the aisle. He didn’t wear the tie he’d worn earlier, picked to match her bridesmaid’s dress. She knew the intricate design by heart. She’d traced the tiny pink and silver paisley design, all the while trying not to allow the sorrow in his voice to crack through her defenses. He’d not only broken her heart last summer with a phone call, he’d broken her will, demolished her sense of true north. She couldn’t forgive him—or herself—for allowing it to happen.
She’d cut the conversation short tonight, recalling the promise she’d made to never show her vulnerability to this man again, and stalked away from him as fast as her sparkly pink heels would carry her.
Garrett turned his attention to someone else standing in their little circle, and Sadie took the opportunity to watch Aiden. Tailored black pants hugged his impressive thighs and led up to a tucked white shirt, open at the collar and showing enough of his tanned neck to be distracting.
I made a mistake last summer, Sadie. One I’ll regret always.
A pang of guilt stabbed her. She hadn’t expected the flood of emotion that crashed into her when she saw him for the first time in nearly a year. She’d planned to tell him she was sorry he lost his mother. And she was. She may have never met the woman, but she saw her once. And she saw the connection between mother and son as clearly as she saw Aiden now.
Sadie kept up with Aiden’s mother’s illness via updates from Crickitt. The decision not to go to the funeral went without saying, but Sadie hadn’t been able to stop herself from sending an anonymous bouquet to the funeral home. Losing a parent was one of the worst things in the world, she knew.
Sadie straightened her spine, wiggled her heel into the floor, and reminded herself again not to dwell on her own heartbreak. Her best friend’s wedding wasn’t the place to dig up the past. Even so, she’d spent most of the day desperately trying to tamp down one emotion after the other. Thank goodness girls were supposed to cry at weddings.
Which is why she’d been avoiding him. Aiden had a knack for seeing right through her. That was the clincher. He knew her. Picked her apart with those clairvoyant sea green eyes of his, and left her defenseless. And being called out by Aiden Downey was at the tippy-top of her “To Don’t” list.
Aiden pulled a hand through his thick hair, the length of it landing between his shoulder blades. Sadie recalled the texture of it as if she’d run her fingers through it yesterday. She hated that.
Damn muscle memory.
Crickitt’s mother, Chandra, approached the bar and gave Aiden a plump hug. Aiden smiled down at her, but Sadie saw the sadness behind it, and for a split second, it made her heart hurt. She’d gotten good at reading him, too. Knowing that reminded her of just how close she’d been to losing her heart to him…until a phone call annihilated everything between them.
Whether it was the invisible cord of awareness strung between them or coincidence, Sadie wasn’t sure, but Aiden chose that moment to look in her direction. His smile faltered, the dimple on his left cheek fading before he flicked his eyes away.
Sadie used to love the way he shook her up. From across a room. With nothing more than a look. But now her heart raced for a far different reason. One she refused to name. She frowned down at her empty champagne flute. She was going to need more alcohol if she hoped to toughen her hide. This exposed vulnerability simply wasn’t going to cut it.
“Refill?” Garrett asked, gesturing to her empty glass.
“Yes,” she said, grateful for his doting. She handed it over. “Keep ’em coming.”
* * *
Aiden bid the last lingering guests farewell, watching as a sophisticated older couple by the name of Townsend walked out to the driveway.
Shane and Crickitt August had made their exit hours ago, amidst cheers and handfuls of heart-shaped biodegradable confetti. Since he was staying at Shane and Crickitt’s cabin for the weekend, Aiden was left in charge of supervising the caterer, breaking down the tent, and clearing away the remains of the celebration.