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One and Only by Jenny Holiday (22)

 

You. Look. Amazing.”

Jane did a little twirl in front of the mirror in Gia’s room. She liked what she saw. She had taken a gamble on the dark red lace dress. She had almost put it back on the rack when she bought it a couple weeks ago. It was a form-fitting sheath—not her usual MO. Well, her usual modus operandi was jeans and a T-shirt, so that wasn’t saying much. Maybe her subconscious had known she was going to turn into a risk-taking daredevil.

And because the dress hadn’t been ordered a year ago, it fit perfectly. Normally, she had to be careful with red because of her auburn hair, but the deep almost-burgundy shade worked, somehow.

“Thanks,” she said. “And thanks for doing my makeup.” She had thrown herself on Gia’s mercy, knowing she wanted to take things up a notch—or several. Her high-fashion friend had not disappointed, painting smoky cat eyes and a classic, deep red lip that matched the dress onto Jane’s otherwise-understated face. She’d used a heavier hand than Jane would have, but that had been the point.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to borrow a pair of heels?” Gia said, dangling a pair of nude strappy ones that were, objectively, beautiful.

“Nope,” said Jane. She had plans, and they didn’t involve heels. “I have to wear heels tomorrow”—she hadn’t been able to talk Elise into granting her an exemption—“so I’m sticking with my flats for tonight.” She balanced on one foot and lifted the other off the floor so she could better admire a sparkly black shoe. “I got fancy flats for the occasion, though.”

“You know what I love about you, Jane?” said Gia.

Jane turned, startled, and lost her balance a little.

Gia laughed as she steadied Jane. “You are always so authentically yourself. Never change.”

“Um, thanks?” Jane said, embarrassed and a little bewildered by the sentiment, but warmed by it all the same.

“I mean it. If anyone ever…doesn’t appreciate you, that’s their problem.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing!” Gia smiled and offered Jane her arm like she was an old-fashioned gentleman. “You ready?”

Jane was, indeed, ready. As ready as she was ever going to be, anyway. She swallowed hard and discreetly wiped a sweaty palm on her dress, nodded, and took Gia’s arm.

Game. On.

*  *  *

Despite her nerves, the rehearsal was actually kind of fun. Maybe because Elise hadn’t made them produce it down to every last detail. There were no Mason jars in sight, no assigned seating, and no calligraphy anywhere.

They’d eaten dinner first, in a private dining room in the B&B. Between the wedding party, Cam’s mom, Elise’s parents, the DJ, and the minister, they numbered sixteen, so they’d been seated at two tables. Jane had given a moment’s thought to trying to manipulate things so she could sit near Cameron—it had been her first impulse—but she reasoned that that would only make her more nervous for what was to come.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t hyper aware of him. She had lost her breath when he and Jay appeared, a couple minutes after everyone else had gathered. Thankfully, everyone’s attention had been on the beaming groom, so no one noticed Jane’s jaw drop. Damn. She could easily imagine Cam in his army gear. But it turned out he could rock a suit pretty well, too. It was a slim-cut, dark gray suit, and since they’d walked across from the B&B, he was still wearing his aviator sunglasses. And there was the plaid tie she had seen in his dresser drawer. He looked like a badass CEO. Emphasis on the badass—somehow, even though she couldn’t see his tattoos, the idea that that full sleeve was there, under all that fancy clothing…She cleared her throat. Then he took off his sunglasses, and once the mirrored shades were gone, it became apparent that he was looking at her, too. Well. She had to take a long drink of the ice water on the table in front of her.

So, yeah, if she didn’t want to spontaneously combust before she’d said her piece, it was better to stay away from him for now, and try to enjoy herself as much as possible.

And she had enjoyed herself. She’d been seated next to Elise’s brother Andy, who was her groomsman partner. Jane had come to know Andy well over the years. He was almost like a second big brother, and she cheerfully submitted to his teasing. The food had been delicious—local trout and vegetables at the peak of freshness—and the warm feeling of being among friends soothed her frayed nerves. It was touching, really, how all these people had come together to make this wedding happen. Some more than others, she thought with a private laugh, because certainly not everyone here had stuffed felt into blenders for the cause, but still, the room was filled with such goodwill. And love. The room was suffused with love.

Hopefully it was catching.

After everyone was done with dessert, the minister ran them through a rehearsal of the actual ceremony, instructing the guys to move some chairs to mock up an aisle of sorts meant to mimic the one that would be set up outside the next day. Jane lined up next to Andy, who looked handsome and happy in his suit. Elise had instructed everyone to wear cocktail party attire to the rehearsal, and the guys had not disappointed. “Looking good, Jane,” said Andy, winking at her as they linked arms, preparing to process up the makeshift aisle. Jane made a kissing face at Elise’s big brother and said, “Likewise.”

After they’d run through the ceremony, the minister said, “We’re going to move to the reception hall now, where we’ll go over the reception entrance cues, the timing of the toasts, and the first dances.”

Darkness was falling as they walked from the B&B to the main event hall. Jane paused and looked up at the sky. She wasn’t a religious person, but, man, she could use a little divine courage right about now. Her gaze landed on a twinkling star, the first of the night. She closed her eyes, letting the sounds of crickets soothe her.

She didn’t make a wish, though, because she was done sitting back and letting things happen. She was done staying out of the way and keeping her head down. Cameron had taught her all that.

She was making her own luck now.

*  *  *

Cam cursed his brother for giving him such an easy job. Being an usher might demand a lot of attention tomorrow, but in terms of the rehearsal, there wasn’t much for the ushers to do except nod when the minister said, “Make sure people are comfortable. Take care on the uneven ground if you’re helping anyone with mobility issues.”

Which left a lot of time for him to watch Jane.

He tried not to. Well, kind of. In that killer red dress, she was like a beacon in a dark night. Hell, she was like the flashing lights on top of a fire truck. There was no way not to look at her.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Kent, predictably, stared openly. He had to be nudged when it was his turn to walk down the aisle, with Wendy. But Elise’s brother, too, who had never displayed any overt interest in Jane before, had suddenly gone all Casanova, judging by the way he was teasing Jane as they waited their turn to process down the aisle.

Andy seemed like a stand-up guy. He was easygoing and friendly. He was a high school history teacher and football coach. Smart and athletic, he was probably exactly what women meant when they used the phrase, “the full package.”

And Cam wanted to fucking punch his lights out. That the dude thought he could touch Jane, like it was his right? Cam’s fingers flexed of their own volition, but he had to remind himself that there was no way for Jane and Andy to walk down the aisle together without touching.

He also had to remind himself he had no jurisdiction over Jane.

He might be in love with her, but that was not relevant.

It was a huge relief when they left the building to head for the reception hall. He walked behind everyone else, holding back a bit because, for once since he had arrived at the wedding site, he wanted to prolong the time spent outside. The fresh air was a relief after the stifling dining room. Out here, he could look at the trees in the distance, smell the goddamned lavender on the evening breeze, and put things in perspective. The world was big. Big enough to start over. Or at least big enough that he could go somewhere else and make some more mistakes out of sight of all these people. He just needed to get through this wedding.

Jane, who had been walking in the middle of the group, next to Andy, tilted her head back to look at the sky. He followed her gaze. There was only one star visible.

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.

The rhyme popped into his head fully formed, though he hadn’t thought about it for years. He wondered if Jane knew that rhyme, too, if she was making a wish. He wondered what she was wishing for.

She hadn’t come to a full stop as she looked up, and she stumbled a bit as the path she was on transformed from gravel into pavement. Andy caught her arm and steadied her. Turned his head to her and said something that made her laugh. She looked into his eyes, smiling. She did not look back at the star.

Cam did, though. It was faint against the midnight-blue sky.

For a moment, he was tempted. He even came to a full stop, contemplating the twinkly little motherfucker.

“You coming, bro?” Jay’s voice.

“Yep,” he said, taking his gaze off the heavens. He had never belonged there anyway.

*  *  *

“All right, so after the toast, we’re done with the formalities until dinner is over,” said the DJ, who was sitting behind his setup and talking to the group, the members of which were all seated at the head table in the otherwise-empty reception hall. Cameron was seated at the far end, next to the other usher. He couldn’t see Jane, who was close to the other end. But, he reminded himself, there was no reason to be antsy about the fact that she was out of view. She wasn’t his.

“We’ll give people about twenty minutes to eat after the toasts, but let’s be flexible about it,” the DJ said, directing his comments to Elise. “I’ll take note of when the servers are mostly done clearing the main course, and then we’ll start the first dances. Does that sound all right?”

Elise nodded.

“So this is what I’ve got,” he went on. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please…Then I generally wait a moment until everyone settles down, and that will be your cue to get up. But don’t hurry. I’ll be cuing the music to you. I can slow it down if need be, so take your time. It will generally take you longer than you think because of the dress.”

The opening strains of “Your Song” started pouring from the speakers, and Elise and Jay shared a tender look as they got up from the table and walked to the small dance floor.

“When you’re ready, we’ll dim the lights and then I’ll say, ‘Please join me in congratulating Elise and Jay on their first dance as husband and wife.’”

Jay took Elise’s hand and pulled her against his chest with a ferocity you didn’t generally see from him. Cam knew it was there, underneath the applique of the mild-mannered accountant. Apparently Elise did, too, because she looked at him with what could only be called bedroom eyes. Watching them felt intrusive, like they were witnessing a private, intimate moment. But it was impossible to look away.

The DJ must have shared his sentiment, because he kept the song going. Cam would have thought that they were just running through the cues. But the entire song played out as Jay and Elise swayed under the spotlight, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings.

As the final notes of the song ran out, it was like the bridal couple came to and suddenly remembered that they had an audience. Embarrassed, Elise buried her head against Jay’s chest for a moment before she reemerged, smiling sheepishly.

“Elise and Jay wanted to do something a little different for their second dance,” said the DJ. “So I’ll be making this announcement tomorrow at this point in the program.” He looked down at his notes. “In lieu of a lineup of dances with their parents or with the wedding party, Elise and Jay invite all the lovebirds out there to join them for the next dance. Old love, new love; it’s all welcome. So if you’re under Cupid’s spell, grab your beloved and get out here.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” said the minister. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Gia, who was standing next to him, snorted softly. “Well, that leaves everyone here out, except…oh.”

He followed her gaze.

There was a goddess walking toward him.

Oh, fuck.

“Oh, fuck,” Gia whispered, echoing his thoughts so quickly and perfectly it was like she had heard them.

His first impulse was to agree with her, but he couldn’t because everything started happening to his body all at once. All the stereotypical shit: his stomach dropped even as it felt like a herd of mini-elephants was migrating through it; his mouth dried up; his skin prickled with the pressure of a thousand tiny needles; his throat closed.

That last one was why, when Jane reached her hand out toward him and said, “Dance with me?” all he could do was stand there mutely, staring at her.

She was so beautiful. Objectively so: her fair skin contrasted with the burgundy of her dress and her lips. Her hair was piled loosely on her head with strands of it coming down from its updo. And those curves, covered in a second skin of lace. It almost hurt to look at her. But it was more than that. It went deeper. It was the way she looked when he told her about Eric and Haseeb. About Becky. And, bastard that he was, it was the way she looked when she came, surprised and delighted in equal measure. The whimpering sounds she made as she begged him to fuck her. He was pretty sure he was the only one who had ever seen that beauty. Hell, he was also the only person who knew what she looked like hanging off the CN Tower.

But that didn’t mean he should be the only one to see her like that.

Just because he was the one who’d been around when she came out of her shell didn’t mean he was the one for her. That was assigning him too much agency in the equation. She deserved someone who could give her everything. Someone without a Boeing 747 full of baggage. Someone who didn’t disappoint everyone he loved. An actual angel, not a fallen one.

Someone like Andy, or, eff him, even Kent the Ken Doll. And once he was out of her hair, she’d be free to find that someone.

He was waiting too long to speak. Though her hand was still outstretched, a shadow was starting to pass over her eyes.

He couldn’t speak; that was the problem. Not around the massive lump that had formed in his throat. If he’d been able to, he would have said, “See? That shadow is me. That’s what I do. I take something bright and beautiful and hopeful, and I dim it as I pass by.”

And he couldn’t do that to her. No fucking way.

So he did what he had to do: he shook his head.

He wanted to do it gently, to infuse that “no” gesture with all the regret in his heart. So he only shook his head a little—the slightest amount, really.

It was enough.

Tears rushed to the corners of her eyes, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

He wanted to crush her to him, to soothe away the hurt he had caused. But that would only be self-serving, would only prolong the pain and complicate the untangling. The best thing he could do for her was cut her loose as kindly but decisively as possible.

So he dropped his gaze from her gorgeous face to the ground—where it belonged.

Somebody gasped.

The square pattern in the parquet flooring at his feet blurred.

He swiped his hand over his traitorous eyes, and, keeping his gaze squarely on the floor, he turned and walked out of the room.