Chapter One
Owen
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for another official first! Please turn your attention to the center of the room, as Captain and Mrs. Max Remington take the spotlight for their first dance as a married couple.”
“Oh, my God, how romantic is this!” The bridesmaid, who had been inching her chair closer to mine since all of the wedding party had been seated at the head table, gripped my arm, her unnaturally long nails digging into my wrist. “They are so adorable together. And this song . . . it’s perfect. Oh, I want to cry.”
I stiffened in my uncomfortable wooden folding chair and prayed to whatever deity might be listening that this chick did not burst into tears. If there was one thing I couldn’t take, it was sobbing women. My eyes darted around the tent, looking for someone who might come save me, but all the attention was riveted on the bride and groom, as it should have been.
“Don’t worry.” Samantha’s cousin Ellen, who was at least five years older than me and married, was seated on my other side. She leaned close to murmur in my ear, “Sam told me they’re not doing a wedding party dance. No one’s going to force you into three minutes of hell with an overeager bridesmaid.”
I shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m just not much of a dancer.”
“My husband isn’t, either. That’s how I recognized the look of panic on your face.”
“Ha.” Grimacing, I managed a weak chuckle. “Didn’t know it showed.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, patting the other bridesmaid on the shoulder. “Lonnie, I’m making a trip to the restroom. Care to join me? You might want to, uh, powder your nose before they do the bouquet toss.”
Lonnie frowned. “Powder my nose?”
The other woman sighed, her patience clearly getting thin. “You’ll want to pee before you have to make a dive for the flowers, okay? Got it?”
“Oh!” Lonnie brightened. “Good idea.” She transferred her grip on my body from my arm to my neck. I cringed as her nails skimmed under my ear. “Now, don’t you go anywhere, you hear? I’ll be right back. I think we need to have a dance!”
Luckily for both of us, she flounced away before I figured out how to respond, because I had a feeling neither of us would’ve been too happy with what I had to say. Once they were out of sight, I stood up, too, and eased away from the table, stepping cautiously around the prissy little chairs.
The music got louder as it morphed from the slow number to something with a faster beat. It seemed like just about everyone in the tent was on the dance floor. I moved stealthily around the tables with their pristine white covers, hoping no one would notice the groomsman who was sneaking away from the reception.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like a good time, and I was sure as hell happy for Max and Samantha. Those two fit together like they’d been made from complementary molds, which I guessed was kind of weird, considering how different they’d seemed at first. Samantha was a politically-liberal woman who was passionate about causes, never hesitating to march or picket when she saw injustice. Max was the straightest of arrows, the latest in a long line of Army officers in his family. When they’d begun dating, I’d privately had my doubts.
But somehow, they made it work. Max had relaxed a little, and Samantha had softened, too. They hadn’t changed, exactly, but incredibly, they’d both become better versions of themselves. I’d had to admit that this was one pair who could probably make it for the long haul.
I ducked under the opening in the tent and stood just outside, looking in at the party. The music slowed, and I watched different couples find each other and meld together. There were the bride and groom, of course. And near them, pressed together, with eyes only for each other, were Kade Braggs and his wife, Leah. They didn’t get very many nights away from their baby daughter, and it looked like they were making the most of it now.
My eyes roved over the others, too: Jake and Harper, who was the maid of honor, were laughing as he twirled her around. I remembered the night those two had met at a bar. I’d been a witness to that particular hook-up—or at least the beginning of it—and no one was more amazed than me that Jake and Harper seemed so devoted to each other now.
Shaw was holding his girl Delia tight. Those two had just gotten engaged two weeks ago. The danger ranger had definitely met his match in the feisty schoolteacher. As I watched them, he rubbed her back and whispered something in her ear that had her giggling. Next to them, Derek was dancing with Tasha, the general’s daughter he’d fallen hard for when she’d been his physical therapist. Derek reached around the small redhead to poke Shaw in the back, and Tasha grabbed his hand. Even from here, I could see she was scolding him, but he only laughed.
Yeah, love was in the air. Only, it seemed I was immune to this particular strain of the ailment. Of all the company commanders in the battalion, I was the lone single guy. The sole bachelor. The last man standing.
Not that I was complaining. I’d never met a woman who was worth the ups and downs I’d seen my buddies navigate over the last year or so. My life was my own, and I liked it that way, thanks.
I moved away from the tent, taking a deep breath as the music faded behind me. Samantha and Max had chosen a perfect setting for their big day, I had to admit. The plantation had been around for fifty years before the Civil War, but it had aged well. The ceremony itself had been held inside the huge open foyer of the stately home; now, the tent that housed the reception was set up on the expansive lawn. A few yards away from where I’d paused was a large tree with wide branches that rustled in the cooling summer air. I meandered over there, and leaning against the sturdy trunk, I closed my eyes and let my shoulders droop.
“Are you hiding?”
The unexpected question startled me, and I opened my eyes to see a woman regarding me with a tilted head. My first thought was that she was gorgeous. Her long hair was chestnut blonde, and her eyes were huge and brown, surrounded by a fringe of lashes. The flowered dress she wore was short, showing off miles of tanned leg. The neckline wasn’t too low, but the material clung to a pair of tits that made my mouth water.
Damn.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “Don’t you like weddings?”
“Um . . .” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, they’re okay, I guess. I just needed a little air.” I pushed against the tree to stand up. “Plus, the music was really loud. Also, there was a bridesmaid who was determined to corral me into a dance. So maybe I am hiding.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “I needed a little escape, too. So many people.” She shrugged, and then from behind her back, she produced a bottle of wine. “I just happen to have liberated some provisions when I ran away. If I were willing to share my wine, could I share your hiding spot?” She smiled, and suddenly, my body went onto full alert, every nerve ending singing hallelujah and screaming YES.
“Uh.” I swallowed, cursing my temporary inability to form a coherent word. “Sure. I think we can work out a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
She laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Pulling the cork from the bottle, she took a healthy slug of wine, her lips wrapping around the opening in a way that made my dick go instantly hard.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she passed the bottle to me. “Cheers.” One eyebrow quirked upward. “Here’s to new friends.”
I closed my fingers over her smaller ones, not missing how warm they were. “New friends. Yeah, that works.” I gripped the neck and lifted the wine. The glass of the bottle’s mouth tasted like something sweet and slippery even before the liquid slid over my tongue. Her lipstick, I guessed, and somehow, it felt intimate to taste her this way.
“You’re a friend of the groom’s, I’m guessing.” She tucked her hair behind one ear, smiling up at me.
“Guilty. Was it the haircut or the uniform that clued you in?” I brushed a hand over the front of my dress blues.
“Let’s say it was a combo, plus the fact that you were sitting at the head table with the rest of the wedding party. I know groomsmen are sometimes the friends or family of the bride, but in this case, knowing what I do about Sam, I doubted it.”
I frowned. “You saw me at the table?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I did. I also saw the bridesmaid who had herself plastered all over you, and I saw you make your getaway.” She chugged the wine and held it up for me. “That’s when I stole the libations and followed you.”
Her frankness was surprising. I was used to women who played games, who flirted and then pretended to be indifferent or acted surprised when I paid attention to them. This girl was straightforward, and I decided I kind of liked it.
“If I ask you to come sit with me on the grass over there by the wall, will you tell me that you’re afraid of getting grass stains on your dress?” I swirled the wine in the bottle. Yeah, it was sort of a test; if she was too prissy to sit on the ground with me, it said something about her.
She laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not that precious. And my feet are killing me, so sitting down sounds like heaven.”
“Okay, then.” I pushed myself off the tree and offered her my hand. “Let’s go.”
The lights that surrounded the tent area didn’t extend quite this far, and we were both quiet as we watched our steps, careful not to stumble on the uneven ground. Her hand inside mine felt oddly familiar, as if my fingers were perfectly suited for closing over hers.
The wall I’d indicated was low, made of large, round field stones. I braced myself on the top of it and lowered my body to the ground. My new friend settled herself next to me, crossing her legs while making sure her dress didn’t reveal too much. I liked that; sure, I enjoyed sneaking a peek at a dip into cleavage or little glance when the wind lifted skirts, but women who were too eager to show me the goods made me uncomfortable.
Once she was leaning against the stone wall, I offered her the wine again. “Here you go. By the way, if we’re going to share both booze and a hiding place, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Owen Hughes.”
She tilted back the bottle and drank deep, running her thumb over her bottom lip afterward to wipe off the wine. “Nice to meet you, Owen. I’m . . . Jacqueline.”
I noticed both the brief hesitation and the fact that she didn’t give me her last name. That wasn’t too surprising; sometimes girls were cautious about giving away too much. I didn’t blame her. It was a dangerous world out there, and with social media, if she offered up her full name, there was nothing to stop me from stalking her online.
So I only nodded. “Nice to meet you, Jacqueline. You already know I’m here for the groom. What about you? Bride or groom?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well . . . kind of both. I met Max and Sam at the same time through, um, mutual friends. I just moved here from California, and Samantha was nice enough to invite me to come today with my friends.”
“She’s pretty cool.” Settling the bottle on the grass between us, I rested my head against the cold stones and closed my eyes. “What brought you out here from the West Coast? New job?”
“Not really.” I heard something in her tone, a mix of hesitation and uncertainty. “I’m sort of between jobs right now. Between careers, I guess you could say.” She snorted. “I’m twenty-six years old, and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. How pathetic is that?”
“Not at all pathetic.” I opened one eye and turned my head a little so I could see her better. Jacqueline was staring straight ahead into the velvet darkness, her brows drawn together. Before I thought about what I was doing, I reached one finger over to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead. “Hey. Seriously. There’s no rule about having to plan out the rest of your life when you hit a certain age. I think there’s something to be said for taking it slow and seeing what you really enjoy before you commit to something.”
“Maybe,” she sighed. “But it’s not so easy when the rest of your family—and the rest of the world—seems like they have it all together. I feel like the perpetual screw-up, the one who’s always flitting from idea to idea.”
“You’re trying out your wings.” I lifted one shoulder. “That’s what being young is all about.”
“Are you speaking from your vantage point of wise old age?” She nudged me with her elbow. “You hide it well. I wouldn’t have guessed you to be more than . . .” She squinted at me, pretending to think. “Oh, forty or so.”
“Forty, huh?” I chuckled. “Sometimes I feel like it, but no. I just turned thirty-two last week.”
“Hmmm. And just what have you done to try out your wings, Captain Hughes? I’m no mind reader, but I can hazard a guess about you.” She brought her knees together, folding her legs against her stomach, and linked her fingers around her shins. “I bet you were ROTC and went into active duty after you graduated from college. You’ve been Army proud and gung-ho every single day you’ve been serving Uncle Sam, and you never even thought about any other way of life. You plan to stick it out until you hit retirement age, or even longer, if your career really takes off.” She side-eyed me. “How close am I?”
“Not that far off,” I admitted, shifting so that I was facing her. “Except I wasn’t ROTC. I went to the Academy. I’m a West Point grad.”
“Really?” Jacqueline cocked her head. “That’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it? A girl who was a year ahead of me in high school got an appointment to West Point. They wrote an article about her in the local paper and everything.”
I shrugged. “I guess.” The truth was that I’d never made a big deal about being a West Pointer. It was something I’d gotten through, but unlike some of my classmates, I didn’t feel that it made me any more special than the other officers who served with me now. “What it means to me is that I graduated without any student debt, I never had more than a few weeks off in the summer during college, and I got this pretty ring.” I lifted my left hand, where the hunk of gold sat. “Other than that—and during football season, when I’m a crazy fan for Army football—I’m no different than any other guy in the service.”
“I don’t know.” She smiled, and her entire face transformed. I caught my breath, utterly captivated. She was beautiful in an almost-otherworldly way, and I was so mesmerized that I nearly forgot to listen to what she was saying. “You seem a little different. You’re not in the middle of the action, getting your dance on with all the eligible women who would love to get their . . . hands on you. You’re not taking advantage of the free liquor and getting wasted, all in the name of having a good time.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t see the point. Not when the most gorgeous woman at the party brought a bottle of wine over and is sitting here with me in the dark.” Taking a chance that she wouldn’t pull back, I slid my hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head.
Jacqueline leaned into my touch, her eyes drifting shut. “Your hands are huge. And warm.” She shivered a little.
“Are you cold?” The evening air did have a little bit of a chill. I tended to run hot all the time, so sometimes I didn’t realize when the temperature dropped.
“I wasn’t, but the ground is a bit damp.” She lifted her backside from the grass, peering down as though she expected to see something there.
“Here.” Dropping my hand from her neck, I unbuttoned my blue jacket and eased it from my shoulders before spreading it on the grass, outer side up. “Sit on this. The cloth’s so thick, it’ll protect you from anything.”
“Are you sure? It might get dirty.” She frowned.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “I’ll have to get it cleaned after tonight, anyway. Go head, sit.”
When she did, she was quite a bit closer to me than she’d been before, and it was easy for me to drape my arm around her, drawing her slim body against me. She snuggled into my side with a sigh.
“What you said before . . . about trying out my wings.” She sounded pensive. “Haven’t you ever thought about doing something else? Or living a different life? Yours has been set in stone since you were eighteen, hasn’t it?”
I nodded and swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “Yeah. I guess it has been. I never let myself think about anything else, though. What would be the point?”
“How much time do you have left in your commitment?”
I rubbed my cheek over the silk of her hair. “I fulfilled what I owed the Army originally, for West Point. But when I went to the advanced course, I accrued six more years. I have another eighteen months on that one.”
“Why not try something else then, after that? You’re still young. You could do anything you wanted. You could . . .” She buried her face in my shoulder, and I thought she sniffed, as though breathing in my scent. “Um, let’s see. You could join the circus. How are you at juggling?”
I chuckled, my chest shaking. “Not so great. I’m actually kind of a klutz, unless it’s with my weapon. And then for some reason, I seem to have this ability to move my hands the right way and not drop anything. I guess it’s all the training.”
“Your weapon, huh?” Suddenly, even in the dark, I could see the way her mouth curled up and mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Isn’t there some Army rhyme about weapons and guns?”
I maintained a poker face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, sure you do.” She jabbed my ribs with her finger. “It’s something like . . . this is my weapon, this is my gun. One’s for fighting and one’s for fun. Right?”
I felt my face getting hot. One of my great mortifications in life was how easily my cheeks went red whenever I got embarrassed. I hoped that Jacqueline wouldn’t notice. “Uh, where the hell did you hear that?”
She got quiet for a minute and then coughed. “Oh, I don’t know. Television, I guess, or some movie. But the point—or maybe the question—is, can you handle your weapon as easily as you do your gun?”
“I think I’m getting lost in this analogy.” I trailed my fingers up and down her bare arm, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake. “How about we just say I don’t have trouble with either of them? I’ve never gotten any complaints from my commanders or . . .” I smirked. “My conquests.”
“Conquests, huh?” Her voice arched. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of those.”
“My fair share, I guess.” I stared straight ahead. “I’ve been a soldier for over ten years. I’m single, and I always have been. Up until recently, most of my friends were single, too. So yeah, we had a lot of fun over the years. We spent most of our non-duty weekends at bars or clubs or other places where it’s easy to pick up women. I always figured we weren’t hurting anyone—as long as the chicks were willing, and everyone knew the score. I never pretended to be anything I wasn’t.”
“I’m not judging.” Her slim fingers reached up to pat my cheek. “Really, I was just teasing you. I don’t have illusions about anyone.” She was quiet for a few heartbeats. “Or myself. I like to have fun, too. Or I did. Now I’m not so sure. It used to seem exciting, but now thinking about my life before makes me kind of tired. It’s one reason I moved out here. I guess I was just done with my old life.”
“Does that mean you’re finished with fun, too? All kinds of fun?” I wasn’t sure why her answer mattered to me, except that this woman felt damned good plastered to my side, and I was beginning to think that she might feel even better on top of me. Naked.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She tilted her chin up so that I could feel her breath on my jaw. “I’m still interested in fun . . . when it feels right.”
“Does it feel right tonight?” I thought I knew where she was heading, but I had to be sure. In this day and age, guys like me couldn’t assume anything. Consent had to be stated outright, not just implied.
“Tonight, with you . . . it feels very right.” Her whisper tickled against my neck. “I mean, if you’re interested.”
“I’m interested.” I bent my head down until my lips hovered over hers. “I’m very interested.”
The initial touch of my mouth to hers reminded me of firing a gun for the first time. Although I’d been warned about it, the kick of the barrel had taken me by surprise, shaking me up. When my lips made contact with Jacqueline’s, I felt that same jarring shock. Only . . . with the gun, I’d had a sore shoulder for a day or two. With this kiss, I knew for sure I’d be feeling its effects for a much longer time.
My lips slid over hers, soft and tentative at first. She slanted her head a little, fitting us together even more perfectly. One of my arms cradled her, supporting most of her weight, and with my other hand, I framed her face, my thumb brushing over the crest of her cheekbone. She was smooth and perfect under my touch, and my dick, already interested in the goings-on, grew harder, straining against the fly of my uniform pants.
My heart was pounding, and although I’d intended to take things slow, I couldn’t help running the tip of my tongue over the seam of her lips. As though she’d only been waiting for that cue, she gave a small hum of approval and opened her mouth. Our tongues met, caressing in an intimate dance that drove me out of my mind.
Suddenly, urgency and need pounded in my blood. Reason fled, leaving in its wake only impatient desire. I couldn’t think about anything except laying Jacqueline out here on the grass, tasting every inch of her sweet body and then slipping inside her, rocking against her until we both came so hard we lost our minds.
Her hands, which had been trapped between our bodies, snaked up to wrap around my neck, drawing me even closer as she arched into me. Through the thin cotton of my shirt, I could feel the softness of her tits, and then, when she pressed even harder, I felt the brush of her nipples stiff as they rubbed against me.
My hand trailed down her throat to cover one of those tempting breasts, cupping it and reveling in the fullness and weight in my palm. My thumb circled the bud, teasing closer but not quite close enough, if Jacqueline’s moan of frustration was any indication. She wriggled, trying to shift so that I touched her where she wanted me the most. But I held her still within my arm, leaving her swollen lips to kiss across her cheek and whisper into her ear.
“Shhhh . . . I’ve got you. Tell me what you want.”
She dropped her head back, and I took advantage of her exposed throat, tracing a line below her earlobe and down to where her pulse thrummed.
“Touch me.” She breathed out the two words.
“But I am.” My mouth skated down to the skin exposed by the neckline of her dress, venturing nearly to the swell of her breast. “Don’t you like it?”
“My . . . oh, for God’s sake, Owen. Please.” Her voice was tortured. “Touch the damn nipple. Pinch me there.”
I lifted my mouth, hovering it over the tip of her breast. “Right . . . here?” Without waiting for her to answer, I sucked the bud between my lips, wetting the cloth of her dress as I bit her gently. She sighed, her fingers spreading over the back of my head. Now that I was where she wanted me, clearly she wasn’t taking any chances with me moving away.
“I want you so fucking bad.” I spoke against her covered flesh. “I wish I had you somewhere private, where we could do anything we wanted, all night long.”
“Yesssss . . .” Her response was more a groan than a word. “What would you do first? If we were alone . . . without a hundred and fifty people partying a dozen yards away?”
Replacing my lips with my fingers, I rubbed her nipple between them. “What would I do first? Hmmm. First, I’d strip this dress off you . . . but not fast. No, I’d pull it off slowly . . .” I released her breast and slipped my hand beneath the strap that held up her dress, easing it down just a little. “I’d reveal your luscious body to my eyes by degrees, just enough to tease us both.”
She sighed, her eyes closed. “I think you mean torture.”
“Could be.” I pressed a kiss to her now-bare shoulder. “I’d taste every part of you that came into view. Once you were completely naked, I’d spend as much time as I wanted here.” I blew on the damp material that covered her stiff nipple. “I’d suck both these nipples, and I’d cover your tits with kisses. And then . . . I’d move lower.”
She gave a strangled little cry. “You’re killing me. Absolutely destroying me.”
“Yeah, I’m right there with you.” I shifted a little and reached down to rearrange things between my legs. I was so fucking hard for her.
“I could straddle you right here and now.” Jacqueline’s hand followed mine, covering my cock, her fingers outlining my shape. “It wouldn’t be what we both want, but it would be something.”
“No.” I threaded my fingers through hers. “I want to say yes, but I’m just selfish enough—and maybe just hopeful enough—to think maybe we could have everything we’re talking about here. I was hoping maybe you’d see me again, after tonight. We could . . . you know, have dinner. Go to a movie.”
“Get naked together?” She cocked her head, one side of her mouth twisting up.
“Absolutely on the agenda.” I nodded. “So, while I’d love to have you dry hump me here and now, I’m going to try something I’ve heard about before. It’s called delayed gratification, and some say it makes the results even more worthwhile.”
“Ah.” She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve heard of it. Never tried it myself.” She brushed her fingertips over her breast, just flicking over the turgid point. “Seems a shame to waste this chance to at least whet our appetites, though. Or maybe take the edge off.”
“I don’t want the edge off.” I captured both of her hands and brought them to my lips. “When we have that time and space, I intend to use that edge to drive you out of your fucking mind over and over and over again.” Lowering my voice, I stared into her wide eyes. “I want you face down, bent over a table, your ass in front of me, your legs spread. I want you up against a wall, pinned there by my dick buried in you and my hands on your tits. I want you on your back in a bed, screaming my name, my face between your legs. I want you on top of me, riding my cock until we both come again and again.”
Her pupils had dilated about halfway through my little speech, and her lips drooped open. “Oh, My. God. Delayed gratification, huh? I think I can make that work.” She swallowed. “Not that long delayed, right?”
“Not if I have my way. I’d take you somewhere now if I could, but the fact that no one has come looking for me yet is a freaking miracle. They’ll have to cut the cake or throw the garter or some such shit, and God forbid they do any of that without me there to be in the pictures and smile pretty.” I rolled my eyes, but I hoped she could tell from my voice that I wasn’t really that serious. Yeah, the wedding stuff was silly to me, but I had enough respect and affection for my friends that I’d do all that and more to make them happy.
“You’re not wrong.” Regret tinged her tone. “And my . . . uh, friends are probably wondering if I got lost. After all, I don’t know anyone else here besides them except Sam and Max. They’ll get suspicious.”
“I guess we shouldn’t go back in together, then?” I glanced at the light spilling out of the tent. “I know that if I walk in with you, one of my buddies or their women will pounce on us like a mouse on cheese.”
“Am I the cheese in this scenario?” Jacqueline sat up and fixed her dress, making me sigh with regret.
“We both are.” I shook my head. “And don’t think that I don’t want you to meet my friends. I’m just protecting both of us from their, ah, intensity.”
“I’m not insulted at all. I understand.” She rose to her feet, and I scrambled to do the same. My legs were asleep, tingling from how I’d been sitting on the ground. Bending down, I picked up my uniform jacket and shook it out before shrugging it on.
“You’re wrinkled.” Jacqueline brushed my back as I buttoned up. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No one’s going to care. The pictures are all from the front.” I winked at her. “All right. Do we both look like we’ve just been sitting by ourselves, contemplating the meaning of life?”
“And not like we’ve been making out in the grass, you mean?” She tugged on the hem of her dress. “Yeah, I think we’ll do.”
“One more thing.” I caught her hand and pulled until she stumbled against me. “One more for the road.”
Our lips met in a kiss that was more demanding and aggressive than our first had been. It was also filled with more promise, an assurance that there would be a next time.
Which reminded me . . .
“I need your phone number.” I wound a strand of her hair around my finger and murmured against her cheek. “So that our delayed gratification can be . . . gratified.”
“Good point. I’ll have to trust you, because I don’t have my phone with me. It’s in my purse, back at the table.”
I freed my phone from the back pocket of my pants and swiped a finger across the screen. “Okay. Lay it on me.”
She recited the number, and I entered it carefully, repeating it back to her to make sure I’d gotten it right.
“I’ll text you later on, so you have mine.” I put away my phone, wishing I had another excuse to linger here with her.
“I’ll look forward to it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Guess I better go first. I’ll walk around and go in the far side of the tent, and then you can wait a few minutes and slip in this way.”
“All right.” I stole one last kiss before she slipped out of my arms. I watched her move slowly into the dark. “Jacqueline.”
She paused, waiting.
“I’m glad you followed me out here and shared your wine with me.”
I could just make out the shape of her smile. “I’m glad, too. This was the high point of the whole wedding for me.” Without saying anything else, she began walking again. I kept my eyes on her until she disappeared around the side of the tent.
And then I retrieved the nearly empty bottle of wine, finished it off with a swallow, and whistling softly to myself, made my way back to the party.