Chet

Blackwood family weddings were practically an institution. We shut down the entire street on the old Catholic church just so that we could pretend we were the center of the world. As I stood on those church steps, waiting for Dahlia to pull up in the car I had sent, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. After escaping Heather after that game on Sunday and ignoring all of her calls after, I had pretty much decided that Dahlia was the one I wanted to go after. I mean she completely consumed my thoughts from the moment that I woke up to the moment that I went to bed. I wanted nothing more than to taste her lips on mine, feel her touch.

I was starting to get hard, right then and there.

But then I remembered our last conversation. According to her, she was completely off limits. But who was this boyfriend of hers? And how could she so willingly deny such an obvious connection? Another five minutes passed before I caught sight of my mother coming up the steps, her white hair pulled into a low bun and wearing a loud, light blue hat that matched her morning dress. She shot me a forced smile before she stopped on that landing. “Waiting for Heather?”

I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

She started walking again. Clearly, I was not her focus. She peered over my shoulder and into the church at the influential people of Dallas quickly pouring through. Even though my mom was the chief editor of a paper, she was a society girl at heart, something that pissed me off to no end. “I don’t know why I try with you.” She shook her head before brushing past me and entering the church.

Before long, a car drove up, and the door opened. My heart stopped at the sight of Dahlia stepping out of the car. She looked stunning in her royal purple gown. The satin cloth hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her lines. Her hips swayed from side to side as she walked towards me, her hair, which she let hang in beautiful ringlets down her back, moving in the late-morning breeze. I struggled to find my breath as she got closer and closer and I found myself completely locked in her gaze. She had me hooked.

I had to have her.

“Hey.”

I gulped. “Hey. Did you get here okay?”

She smiled, an amused look in her eye. “Yeah well, my driver knew how to drive, so. Yeah.”

I glanced into the church, looking for something to distract myself from thinking about how attracted I was to her. “Shall we go inside?” It would be easier to kill my boner if I was sitting inside of a church.

She nodded, that infectious smile on her face. “Sure. Let’s go.”

I let her walk a step in front of me, internally kicking myself for getting an eyeful of her ass, before catching up with her and placing a guiding hand on her back. I led her up the aisle, through people mixing and mingling, and sat her down in the pew. I knew my mother, who stood chatting with someone right by the altar, would sit with me and eventually notice her. I was just trying to bide my time before that awkward encounter.

She sighed as we sat, smoothing out her dress on her legs.

I caught a glimpse her high heels, perfectly accentuating her ankles and calves. I didn’t have a damn chance.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to anyone?”

My eyes flashed wide. Right. I glanced around, but the thought of making small talk with the half-strangers I had known my entire life, instead of sitting here talking to her, made my stomach turn. “Is there anyone your particularly interested in?” I said dryly.

I watched her glance around the church, making faces at the old men in tails, the women with crow’s feet around their eyes, the groomsmen standing around with their hands in their pockets. A smile stretched across her face as she said, “No, actually.”

I returned her smile. “So, how have you been?” I asked, crossing my legs and resting an arm on her seat behind her head.

She turned to look at me. “Eh. It’s been an uneventful week.”

I nodded. “Would it be pushing boundaries if I told you how beautiful you look right now?”

She lowered her gaze as a smile stretched across her face, but then straightened up, poking her chest out even more.

I let my eyes linger a little. I wanted to see her naked so badly.

“Maybe, but I’ll allow it.” She said, an alluring look in her eye.

Wow. How did she do that? “Okay. Fair enough.”

“So, which one is the cousin?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the altar.

“The groom. He’s…” I pointed at a man who was talking excitedly with the priest, his hands in his pockets. “... right there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Right. Nice. Were you close?”

I shrugged, remembering old football games in the backyard of my grandfather’s estate. “When we were younger.”

“What happened?”

“Things got weird when we grew up. The team is the family business and it’s always been handed straight down. People get jealous.” When I glanced over at her, I noticed she was looking only at me. Her gaze was like a warming glow.

“I bet. You must feel really isolated.”

Why was she the first person in my life to care enough to make that observation? “Yeah. You could say the jealousy holds us together better than anything else.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

I nodded.

“How do you deal with it?”

It was a little uncomfortable to be under her scrutiny like this; unsafe, exposed almost. I hadn’t felt this vulnerable around a woman in a long time. “Well, I guess we all get lonely from time to time.”

The way her face fell told me she knew exactly what I was talking about, and that made me feel a sadness I couldn’t place. “Yeah. I know exactly how you feel. It’s been tough here, away from everyone.”

The first thing I thought of was her boyfriend. But I wanted to leave him all the way out of this conversation. “Do you have a big family at home?”

She shook her head, looking down at her fingers as she fiddled with the church missile, folding it and unfolding it over and over again. “No. It’s just my mom and me. And… James.”

Well, she brought him up anyway. “Do you miss him?”

But when she didn’t answer right away, I felt a flicker of hope in my heart.

Then, “I don’t know.”

I watched her tear the missile to shreds for three more seconds before I grabbed her hand. I only meant to take it away from her. I didn’t want her to ruin her dress. But once we were touching, it was hard for me to let her go.

“Chet?”

My mother’s sharp, surprised voice knocked me out of that moment. I stood up to face her. Her gaze shifted from me to Dahlia and back again.

“Mother, this is Dahlia.” I gestured at her as she stood up.

“Good morning Mrs. Blackwood,” she said, her lips stretched into that perfect smile.

My mother didn’t take her hand immediately but shifted her gaze between the two of us. Then, just when I thought she was the complete personification of Satan, she finally stretched her hand out to take Dahlia’s. “Dahlia?” She said as if it were an exotic dish she couldn’t imagine anyone finding appetizing.

“Yes,” I cut in. “Dr. Dahlia Waters.”

My mother nodded slowly.

“She’s the new sports physician.”

She nodded again, again shifting her gaze between the two of us. “Well, then,” She said, sitting down on the other side of me. “She really is… something.”

My hands clenched into a fist at that.

Dahlia sunk down in her chair, grabbing the shredded pieces from the missile and continuing her demolition. I hated my mother for being so unnecessarily mean. It was as if she was so unhappy, she had to bring everyone else down with her. The whole thing was maddening.

“Well, that went well,” Dahlia muttered, just as the church was starting to quiet down.

I let out a dark chuckle. “Yeah, she’s particularly friendly,” I leaned even closer to her. My lips touched her ears, as I whispered in the lowest voice possible. “for someone who has a sword shoved up her ass.”

She cringed, but I saw the smile widen on her face, the goosebumps sprout on her skin. She was into me too. I could feel it. “Well in that case… bravo.”

I sat impatiently through the rest of the ceremony, wanting nothing more than to get another chance just to sit and talk to her. The wedding itself was uneventful and slow. The bride was gorgeous; the groom was emotional… people cried….

Finally, I was leading Dahlia through the reception hall held at our grandparent's ranch estate, ready to have a drink and enjoy this woman’s company. After taking a ride with her to the ranch, we stepped outside of the limo. I hadn’t been at my grandfather’s farm for almost a decade now, since the last family wedding. Now, at over 40 years old, the memories of me running around with my cousins in the front lawn, destroying the roses, or jumping into that porcelain fountain that glistened in the afternoon sun, were starting to fade further and further away.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Dahlia said as we followed the crowds through the front door and into the massive front hall.

The voices echoed as people wandered through the dark interior, taking in the antique furniture, the old paintings on the walls, the crystals hanging from the ceiling and on display in the side tables. I led her through all of this and out the back door onto the patio, where the real party was happening. They had done an excellent job of setting up the most cliche wedding ever, complete with white tablecloths and a tent housing a dance floor. There was a stage where the string quartet and pianist had already started playing. I could tell they had just borrowed notes from the old Blackwood book.

Without thinking of it, I grabbed Dahlia’s hand and led her to the bar. The touch was the most natural thing in the world. “Could I have a whiskey and a… white wine?” I said, thinking back to that night at the gala.

Her face lit up at this. “You remembered what I drink?”

I leaned on the bar, turning to face her. “You were completely unforgettable that night.”

She smiled at me as she picked up the freshly poured wine and took a sip. “How amazing.”

I glowered at her. “I know it’s cheesy.”

“No, it’s impressive.”

I took a sip of my drink. “Good.” I gazed out at the crowd, which was getting thicker and thicker. “Should we find my place.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s the table front and center.”

I grimaced. “Nah. That’s for close family.”

But she had already started walking. “Yeah, but you own a football team.”

Sure enough, she was right. I pulled out her chair for her and then sat down myself. We kept talking through each new course, inching closer and closer together. I ignore my mother’s disapproving glances and could only wish that she was doing the same throughout the meal. By the time I had scraped my last piece of medium rare filet mignon across my plate, I was feeling pretty brazen.

I turned to her. “So, are you a dancer?”

She raised her eyebrows, her head ducking ever so slightly. I watched as she wiped her lips, rubbing her cloth across the soft skin, turning pink with the pressure. I imagined those lips wrapped around my… No. I couldn’t. Not now. “In what sense.” She finally answered.

I gestured at the dance floor. “In the cheesy wedding sense.”

She glanced at me to the dancefloor and back again before breaking into a giggle. “Oh. Wow, Chet. This is getting dangerously close to a date.”

I shook my head slowly, taking a sip of the red wine that had been sitting at my place since I sat down. “Well, shoot me.”

She stood up, extending a hand down to me. “I’d rather dance with you.”

I couldn’t stop myself from beaming like an idiot as we made our way to the temporary wooden floor to join the rest of the couples. When we stopped, she stood in front of me, placing a hand in mine. I put my free hand on the small of her back and started leading her through whatever waltz-foxtrot mixture I had thought up.

“Wow. Are dancing lessons also apart of the Blackwood family tradition?”

I chuckled at her. “Do you completely hate rich people or what?”

“I just hate how they feel about poor people.”

“Well, we’re not all the same.”

She gazed up at me. “Obviously.”

As we continued to prance across the floor, she asked me another question. “Did you always want to do this?”

“What?”

“Inherit the company?”

I furrowed my brow. “I guess it was one of those things I always accepted as fact. Like my hair color or my gender.”

She nodded. “Wow. That’s heavy.”

“I think struggling through life trying to figure out how to make a living is heavy.”

“You only say that because you’ve never done it.”

I looked down at her, taking in the way her delicate nose curled up at the end, lifting her lips into a perfect heart-shape. I had never noticed that before. “Isn’t it awful.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “It is. At first. You feel like your falling and then, all of a sudden, you land. You find your truth.”

I pursed my lips, a lump in my throat I couldn’t reason through. “Deep.”

“So, if you could do anything, what would you do?” She asked, forcing us to slow.

We were standing still now, swaying together to the music. I made a note of the warmth between us and the way her soft body pressed against mine. “You don’t understand. I want to do this. I just…” I found it hard to look at her. “Don’t know how sometimes.”

At that, she placed a hand on my cheek, completely surprising me. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Her gaze grounded me. “You want to know a secret?”

“What?” I didn’t know why I was whispering.

“Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

I burst out in a hearty laughter at that. “You’re a doctor.” I gasped.

She chuckled too, a knowing smile stretched across her face. “I know. I fucking know.”

And there it was, the two of us laughing like crazy people on the dance floor of my third cousin’s wedding.