And what?” Maxie pulls herself away from Heat Flare’s embrace and struggles not to shiver as the cold air tickles her. “You think that just because you give me a few fancy trinkets, kissed me once-”

“Twice.” The corners of Heat Flare’s gorgeous mouth twitch.

Maxie ignores the comment and the adorable smile. “—that I’ll be so swept up by you, so enamored, that I’ll do anything you ask of me? You’re insane.”

“Maxie. I only want what’s best for you,” Heat Flare says in a gentle voice. He reaches out and takes her hand in his. He holds it lightly, the touch meant to connect rather than demand. The warmth of his skin surrounding her serves as a balm for her nerves. “And right now, what’s best for you is to get out of town, not forever, just a few weeks. Until I figure out what game this Frost Queen is playing at and why she’s decided to focus her attention on you.”

“So what?” Maxie paces back and forth across the room. Dillion told her about the Frost Queen a few weeks back, when he first detected signs of her presence. “The Manipulator knows about her. He’s handling the situation.”

Heat Flare’s mouth flattens into a grim line. “And yet things just seem to be getting worse. Don’t they?”

“What are you saying?” Maxie wheels around on her heel and glares at him, not noticing that she is now, once again, standing within arm’s reach of him. “Are you trying to accuse Dil … The Manipulator of working with the Frost Queen?”

Above his mask, Heat Flare’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. “I wasn’t. I was going to say that maybe he doesn’t have the matter as much under control as he wants everyone to believe.”

Maxie’s shoulders slump. “Oh.”

She starts backing up, attempting to put more distance between them, but before she can, Heat Flare’s hand snakes out and catches hold of her elbow, holding her in place.

He slides a finger under her chin, lifting her head until her eyes meet his. “Do you have some reason to believe that The Manipulator might be working with the Frost Queen?”

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The minister’s voice interrupts the scene between Heat Flare and Maxie that I started mentally writing almost as soon as I slid into the pew and settled next to Ryan.

He leans over, bringing his mouth close to my ear. His warm breath stirs my hair and tickles my cheek. “You looked like you were a million miles away.”

I blush and decide to be thankful that my imagination decided to focus on what felt like a massive and completely unexpected plot point for my story – as opposed to the rapidly escalating and equally unexpected sexual tension building between Heat Flare and Maxie.

“You may kiss the bride,” the preacher drones on. I force my eyes and mind to focus on the activity taking place at the front of the church.

Suzie grins and practically throws herself into Eli’s arms as everyone leaps to their feet and applauds.

Once the pair pull themselves apart and make their way down the aisle, everyone slowly files out of the pews and starts to form the receiving line.

Ryan’s hand settles on the small of my back and the heat from his palm seems to sear my skin, despite the material between us. I can’t decide if I want to lean into it, or pull away.

“Hey, Lucy.” Grinning, Christian sidles up to us and fist bumps my shoulder. “Glad to see you changed your mind and came.”

I smile shyly at him as he reaches behind himself and draws a curvy redhead around to stand beside him. “Ryan. Lucy. I want you to meet Vicky. Vicky, Ryan, one of my oldest friends, and Lucy. In addition to being the best office manager one of the doctors I work with has ever had, she’s Ryan’s girlfriend.”

“Wow,” Vicky whistles. “Ever since I met him, Christian has been telling me how he’s friends with the famous Ryan Jakes, but I always assumed he was full of shit.”

“He is,” Ryan says easily. “But not about me. When he’s talking about me, I’m far better than he says.”

“Lucy promised to dance with me tonight, which I arranged so that you’d have a chance to dance,” Christian tells Vicky. “Doesn’t that qualify me as the best boyfriend in the world?”

“Well, that depends.” Vicky loops her arm around Christian’s waist.

“On what?” he asks suspiciously.

“On whether or not Ryan is a halfway decent dancer,” Vicky responds, “or if he spends the entire time flattening my toes.” She extends her index finger and gestures to both of them. “And I’ll warn you, these shoes get ruined because one or both of you is a klutz, there will be hell to pay.”

The time it takes for our section of the receiving line to reach the bride and groom flies by, mostly because Vicky, who it turns out is a popular stand-up comedian who works in a Green Bay night club, keeps telling one bawdy joke after another.

All of us are disappointed to find ourselves standing in front of the new bride and groom.

“Well,” Suzie’s gaze sweeps over the four of us, “it sounds like all of you are having a great time.”

“I’m jealous,” her new husband, Eli, an anchor for the local news station, says. “I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun at a wedding as the you folks have had in the past few minutes.” The glow in his warm eyes indicates that he’s not putting us down or complaining, that he’s genuinely pleased for us.

The same can’t be said for Suzie. The longer we stand here, the more brittle her smile becomes.

“Congratulations, Suzie,” I tell her. “I’m sure you’re going to have a wonderful marriage.”

“Thanks.” Suzie’s gaze bounces from me to Ryan and back again. Her eyes narrow. “Lucy, I know you’ve done so much already, and I’m truly grateful, but I was wondering if maybe I could ask one more, teeny tiny favor from you.”

“What do you need?” I can feel Ryan’s gaze boring into the back of my head.

“It’s not much and I promise it won’t take long,” Suzie says. “It’s just now that I’m thinking about it, I want to make some changes to the playlist at the reception. If I text the changes to you, would you mind talking to the DJ?”

“That sounds simple enough.” And far easier than most of the “favors” she’s asked me for these past few weeks.

A bright smile spreads across Suzie’s face, though her eyes don’t glow quite as brightly. “Thanks, Lucy. I really do appreciate it.”