“MAY I join you?” a silky voice asked at my ear.
Dillon Carrington was indeed here, just as he’d promised when we met him in Italy. He was one of Neil’s groomsmen and had all the ladies swooning. I imagined it was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to already, being a celebrated racing champion and all. The dark good looks didn’t hurt his chances, either. The man was quite simply gorgeous. But he knew it. “Sure, if hanging out with a pregnant chick cranky from a lack of wine is your thing.” I winked at him.
He laughed and pulled up a chair. “Well, you’re a stunner, pregnant or not, even if the lack of wine has made you a bit barmy. How can I help?”
I shook my head and smiled. “I’m fine, just sitting back and people-watching. It’s my favorite.”
“Really? I know people like to look at you in photographs.”
Was he flirting with me? And if so—why on earth was he paying attention to me when he could have his pick of any single women in the room. “You’ve seen my photographs, Dillon?”
He pursed his lips as if he were trying to hold back a grin. “Yes, Brynne, I have.” He bowed his head in deference. “I wholeheartedly approve.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Ethan doesn’t.”
He nodded with a tilted head as if considering. “I think I can see why he would feel that way. Ethan has territorial tendencies. He has to, in his profession, plus he’s just snatched you off the market, so I can only imagine.”
“Yeah, I know.” I drew in a deep breath and thought about it from Ethan’s perspective. What if he were the model and women saw him naked in photographs? I wouldn’t like it. Honestly, I would hate it. I decided a swift subject change was needed to lift the mood. “Where’s your pretty girlfriend, Dillon? Why aren’t you out there dancing with her right now?”
“Oh, Gwen? She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just my date for this weekend.” He flashed me a devilish grin that told me more than I wanted to know about Dillon Carrington’s sexual skill with women. He spelled TROUBLE in straight shouty caps, and Ethan was right on target about Dillon only having dates. “And I’m not dancing with her right now because your husband is.”
DILLON laughed at my reaction. Ethan was indeed, with Dillon’s “date,” the leggy Gwen, who looked like she was really into dancing with my husband. He just looked drunk. Oh, I don’t like you at all, Gwen.
“I was going to ask you to dance with me, but when I came over, you seemed like maybe you weren’t up for a spin, and I couldn’t face the possible rejection.” His amber eyes twinkled naughtily.
My decision made, I snuck a sideways glance at Ethan, and stood up to smooth my dress. “Dillon,
I’d love to dance with you.”
Dillon’s skills were such that he made me look good out there. And it was fun. When he spun me, my skirt flared out in a gauzy wave and I loved it. I felt pretty and desirable for the first time today instead of the awkward preggo bridesmaid who watched everyone else having fun while I sat around on my widening ass.
When the song changed to Bloodstream by Stateless, I thanked Dillon for keeping me company, and looked around for Ethan. It was one of my favorite songs and reminded me so much of how Ethan was with me. I think I might have inhaled you—I can feel you behind my eyes—You’ve gotten into my bloodstream—I can feel you flowing in me. Slow dancing to that particular song with anyone other than my man, was out of the question. I didn’t even see him dancing with Gwen anymore. Where in the hell had he gone? My husband should be dancing with me at this wedding. Not some random woman who was thin and beautiful… My body is changing very fast.
Quite frankly, I was irritated. He’d basically abandoned me to drink at the bar with the guys, and then went off to dance with another woman. I didn’t like feeling this way, and for the first time since I’d known Ethan, I could actually imagine he was avoiding me. But why? This morning he’d been fine, and later before the ceremony he’d come to check on me, worried about my headache. My caring, attentive man, as he always was with me. But then, after the ceremony moved onto the reception, he seemed distant, and went off with Ivan and Elaina’s brother, Ian, for some bromance time I suppose. Was it possible all the wedding hearts and love blossoms were getting to him?
Well, he was the one who’d insisted on marrying, I reminded myself. I never demanded a ring. All Ethan—all the way, with the—let’s-get-married-right-now—ridiculousness. If he was having second thoughts about his new ball-n-chain, then he was just a little goddamn late on figuring it out.
Ethan’s game at the moment? Full-blown assholery to the millionth power. And a bitter disappointment for his pregnant and crabby wife.
I kissed the bride and groom, made an excuse to Gaby and Ben about my headache, and figured I’d see the rest of the crowd tomorrow at the brunch. Right now, I was ready for my head to meet my pillow. Growing a tiny human made me require a ton more sleep than usual. As I steered for the staircase, I treated myself to a mini-tantrum—inside my head, of course—at how un-romantic this evening had been for me. Talk about a buzz-kill.
My decision in favor of sleep, over searching out wherever Ethan had gotten lost was really very easy for me. Because it’d felt like I’d been on my own all night, anyway. When I got up to our room, I changed into a warm cozy nightgown and settled into the lonely bed, feeling bereft, wondering when he would stumble up to join me. But I did know he would make it eventually.
That was the thing with us. I trusted Ethan even though he was being an ass. He knew the lay of the land with me. Honesty and trust were required, or there was nothing holding us together.
Good sex wasn’t love.
For me, honest devotion and loyalty was love.
If Ethan ever cheated on me I would walk out his door and never look back. I knew it. He knew it.
CHAPTER 11
I gave her half an hour before following her up the stairs. I wanted to wait longer so the alcohol buzz would dull my edge a bit more, making me safer to be around. But I couldn’t stand being away from her another moment. I needed my tranquillizer. Neil had said it to me before. Brynne is your cure. Nothing could bring me out of my hell when I felt like this…except her.
I breathed easier knowing I wouldn’t have to say much. Her new rule of letting me alone to house my demons in solitude helped a great deal. Everything about Brynne helped me.
When I came into the room it was dark and she was sleeping just as I’d hoped. I ditched the tux and slipped under the sheets, settling in behind her. The first inhale of her comforting scent went up my nose and straight to my brain, immediately soothing, giving me hope to make the ugliness fade away. Best I’d felt all night, the instant I notched into the back of her neck and buried my nose in her hair.