- CHAPTER TEN -
SCOTCH
Kain gave me a funny look. “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”
I nearly spit out my drink. I hadn’t seen him approaching as I hovered by the snack tables with his brothers. The reception was in full swing inside the barn; I’d just started to get comfortable.
“Us, met before?” I asked coyly. Of course we had, though the meeting had been brief. I’d seen Kain at the Dirty Dolls sparingly, which I was grateful for, because it meant he didn’t know for sure if he recognized me—and that helped me keep my voice calm. “I just have one of those faces. I’m Heather,” I said, shaking his hand with a sweet-as-pie smile.
The grooves in his forehead didn’t vanish. Not until Sammy swished toward us; then his eyes were shining with pride, and I was a nobody again.
“Hey, you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Hello, wife,” he growled playfully. Kain pulled her tight against him, kissing her deeply in spite of how many of us were crowded around. It went from a tender moment to an explicitly sexual one as he held her.
Thorne coughed into his fist. “Save some for your honeymoon.”
“I’ve got plenty for now and then,” he said, holding Sammy as she tried to wiggle free. She gave us all an apologetic look before he hid her with another make-out session.
Kain palmed her ass, and that was when she shoved him off with her lips pursed. “All right, all right,” she laughed. “We have an audience!” She was burning red, but I could tell from her smile that she was secretly pleased.
Scanning her gown, I said, “Your dress is beautiful.”
“Oh, thanks!” Sammy trailed her fingertips over the beaded front and down to her satin-clad hips. “I was worried I wouldn’t finish it in time.”
“You made it?” I gasped.
Kain put his arm around her middle, hugging her against him. “Sammy’s the best in the business.”
“Stop it,” she laughed. “I’ve got a long way to go to be the best.”
She said it like she fully intended to become the best wedding dress maker out there. Looking her over with new appreciation, I realized I believed she would. Sammy had an aura that shone with self-confidence.
Leaning closer, Kain winked pointedly at me, then looked up at Costello. “If you ever need a wedding dress, Sammy can get one ready for you in a day.”
“I—I don’t think I’ll need anything like that,” I sputtered. As jittery as this topic made me, I was curious about how Costello was reacting. Peeking up at the silent man, I watched as he sipped his drink. He was so damn quiet . . . but were his fingers squeezing the glass just a bit harder than they had to?
Sammy broke the silence. “Thanks for all the nice words,” she said, swishing her pleats. “Your dress is beautiful, too, actually. Where did you get it?”
My fingers wrapped themselves in the rose-pink dress I was wearing. “It was a gift.” Being reminded that Costello had bought the figure-hugging outfit for me had my heart rumbling.
“Well, it suits you.”
“Yes,” Costello stated bluntly, “it does.”
All of us startled. He’d remained silent, so him speaking up just to compliment me was as good as him shouting at the top of his lungs. Thorne covered his mouth, muttering, “Ah, fucking hell, brother.” Kain just smirked.
A voice booming over the microphone saved me from any more awkwardness. “Could the bride and groom please come to the dance floor?”
“That’s our cue,” Sammy said, her dress gliding over the rough floorboards. The pair approached the cleared section of the room. Music tinkled through the air. The lights dimmed romantically, everyone shushing one another. Sammy and Kain took each other’s hands, moving in a gentle circle.
I sucked at dancing, so I was impressed by how easily they swayed together. They reminded me of synchronized dancers. Kain swept her up and turned it into a deep back bend. Grinning, he kissed her neck and her mouth, and the room thundered with applause and whistles.
Their first dance over, the vibe shifted as a song with more energy blasted from the speakers. Couples moved into place, jumping and laughing as they showed off their skills.
Their love for each other.
My neck burned; Mama Badd was watching me. She kept flicking her fingers, a sort of “Go on, get going” gesture. She made her intentions obvious, and I appreciated that, because if I was honest with myself, I wanted to get on that dance floor. I wanted to be as close to Costello as Sammy had been with Kain.
It was an entirely stupid urge. Thanks, third glass of wine.
“Come on,” I said, reaching out for Costello with a half smile. “Let’s dance. Everyone expects us to.”
He’d been staring out over the crowd. We were alone; Thorne had slid off at some point to bump and grind with a redhead in the corner. “You’re sure?” he asked, still not looking at me.
Shrugging sheepishly, I said, “I mean, unless you don’t want to.”
He set his glass down on the snack table. That was when I realized it was empty. Had he been pretending to drink this whole time? My wonderment was renewed when he linked his fingers with my own. “Okay,” he said to me. “Let’s go.”
My heart flickered like a candle with a new wick. He pulled me onto the dance floor . . . he spun me against his body . . . and I became a bonfire. Within seconds of his holding me as he moved over the hardwood floor, I realized our skills were unevenly matched. “Wait,” I laughed nervously, “I’m not actually good at dancing. Let’s just do that lazy rock-together move, you know?”
“Shh,” he whispered, fixing me with a look that had me swallowing my tongue. At least it tasted good—like red wine. How would Costello taste? “Let me lead.”
I’d been letting him lead me since last night. What an easy request.
He spun us around the crowd, a man who moved like he was dodging bullets. I went along, his strength half carrying me through the steps and making me look way better at this than I’d ever look on my own.
He’s so warm, I thought, staring up into his eyes. When he smiled, my stomach did a cartwheel. All day my goal had been to bury these crazy feelings. I was lusting for a man who kept giving me mixed signals . . . but his words had been clear.
Last night was an accident.
And what if, this time, the accident was bigger between us?
And what if I didn’t care?
“You’re very red,” he whispered into my ear.
That only made my body flush more. “It’s the lighting,” I lied. “That’s all.”
“Mn.” It was a simple sound. The agility of his fingers down my spine was anything but simple. He touched me with ease, possessive and free-flowing, until I lost my sense of direction.
I didn’t care which way I went.
As long as it was down. With him.
He’s not smiling anymore. I’d been transfixed by his lips. The corners were all shadow, as mysterious as him. They moved, the single shape not an H for Heather but an S for Scotch. He never said either name, because I’d stood up enough to close the gap and finally feel his mouth.
He tasted like water; he hadn’t had a drop of anything stronger all night. Costello was sober and straight in his decisions. He knew exactly what he was doing. His hands caught me around my middle, feeling up the dress he’d bought for me.
Around us came enthusiastic applause. Someone whistled sharply; I pulled away enough to see it was Kain. Every single person in that barn was smiling.
All but Thorne.
He stared at us from the open bar. I was sure his cup didn’t contain water. He knows what we’re doing is drawing too much attention. The hands on me went slack—had Costello realized what his brother had? Just as I expected him to break away, Costello dug back in.
“Come with me,” he hissed, forcing me through the sea of bodies and away from the noise. I hadn’t seen him so focused since he’d helped me escape the Dirty Dolls.
Out under the black sky, Costello led me over the cedar-chip trail. One of us stumbled; instead of regaining our balance, he yanked me onto the ground. Breathing hotly in my ear he curled his fingers over my spine, then my ass. The dress came up high; there was dirt on my knees, and I was fine with that.
“Kiss me,” he demanded, doing it before I could. “I want you so fucking badly. I’m taking you back to our room. Right now. Do you understand me?”
Costello looked into my eyes. I caught the way he was pleading with me, a man so eager to make me his, but so conflicted in the desire he could no longer fight. “Last night . . . you said it was an accident,” I panted, still catching my breath.
“It was.” His irises were glowing. “One I want to repeat.”