Chapter 7
Henry sat back in the plush leather chair, swirling the tasting of wine in his crystal glass, and realized that, for a guy who was so adamant about not dating, this was the closest he’d come to a real date since his ex.
Every time Elle would move, their knees would accidentally brush beneath the shared space under the intimate table for two. As the sun gave way to an inky sky behind the estate, he was breathless. Goddamned breathless with Elle sitting so close, her perfume mixing with the wine saturating the air.
And her dress—bloody hell, that dress—a mix between high tea and high couture with a dash of sensual allure. It was of the off-the-shoulder, no-straps, one-tug-and-it-would-be-around-her-waist variety. It was edged with a feminine lace across the top that bled into a silky light-blue fabric that hugged her tits and cupped her bum in the most proper way possible.
Every time she so much as breathed, it was like the dress was whispering his name, like a siren calling him to his death.
“Shall we move on to the rosé or are you going to keep staring at me like I’m contaminating the wine with my presence?” she said.
“Maybe I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“What’s to figure out?”
“You’re such a contradiction to me,” he said, feeling free to have this conversation since Louis had finally left them alone. He’d done his whole dog and pony show, taking his sweet-ass time knowing that Henry wanted to be alone with Elle. And Elle hadn’t helped, asking him every question under the sun about his wine and family, making it clear she didn’t want to be alone with Henry. Which made him all the more determined to figure out why.
Now he’d gotten his way, and finally here they were—just the two of them.
“I’m not a puzzle you need to solve.”
“Maybe I want to. Because I’m having a hard time matching up the person Sarah told me about with the woman I met at the airport and then the little Elle who put bleach in shampoo.”
“I told you?—”
“I know,” he whispered. “Kids do stupid shit. Sarah did say you gave her a place that felt like home at a time when she didn’t have a home. So thank you.”
“My parents had just gone through a nasty divorce and Sarah listened and offered me comfort. That’s what brought us together. By the end of the summer it felt like we were sisters.”
“That was a rough year on my family. Especially for Sarah.”
“How was it for you, being so far away from home?”
“I actually came home from training for the offseason to help get everyone settled in the new apartment,” he said, wondering when he’d become the kind of chap who opened up and spilled emotional baggage to a woman. Especially one he barely knew and didn’t really trust. He could blame it on the wine or the ambiance of their surroundings, but he had a feeling it was the woman and that could be a problem.
“I imagine that would have made it hard to focus on your racing.”
“My racing is what grounds me. It’s the one place where I don’t question my decisions. I can let go and the world disappears.”
She studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment and he felt as if he’d just exposed all his cards. “Do you want it to disappear?”
“Hasn’t there ever been a time in your life when you wished it would all fade away?”
“Never. I’ll take the good with the bad. Because once you lose someone, all you have left are the memories. Why would you want to lose those too?”
He could see the faraway look in her eyes; she was obviously thinking of something specific and there was definitely a lot of pain there. He wanted to know what caused that pain, so that maybe he could ease some of it.
Reaching over, he rested his hand on hers, her bare skin smooth beneath his touch. He waited for her to move but she didn’t. Instead, he felt her tremble under his palm in a way that broke his heart. “We don’t have to talk about this if it makes you upset.”
She met his eyes and hers were glassy with too much wine and unshed tears. “I like to talk about my dad. They’re happy tears, you know?”
No, he didn’t. Whenever he thought of his father, anger came to mind. Rage was more like it. All the happy memories had become tainted over the years until when he looked back, all that remained was calcified resentment.
“I like talking about him,” she said.
“Then tell me about him.”
“He was my hero. He drove me to school every day, picked me up, took me to karate.”
“Karate? I figured a debutante would choose point shoes over a gi.”
“Ballet slippers don’t make for a good weapon when living in a big city.” She paused, remembering. “This one day at school, we had to dress as a book character. I decided to go as Hermione because she is brilliant,” she said, and he laughed. He could easily picture her as a strong independent, stubborn woman like Hermione. “But my cloak got caught on the door latch. I tripped and tore the back out and broke my wand. I was crying because I didn’t want to go to school. So he got out the stapler, super glue, and duct tape and fixed it. My dad always made everything right in my world. God, I miss him.”
“I didn’t know he passed.” Before he could help himself, he reached up and wiped away the first shed tear running down her cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Something close to panic flashed across her eyes and she jerked her hand away. “It was a while ago.”
“It must be nice to have warm memories about your dad.”
“Sarah told me that the divorce was hard on all of you,” she said, changing the subject to his least favorite topic. “How are you and your dad now?”
“About the same. Last time I saw him was when I signed my first contract, and he came to ask for money.”
This time she reached for his hand and a warm sensation rolled up his arms and through his chest like a pinball ricocheting off each rib. “What an asshat.”
He burst out laughing. It was the opposite of what most people would say to him in such a situation. A puzzle indeed.
“You know he never gave my mom a penny in support. Can you imagine working three jobs to support your kids?”
“I can’t.” He paused at her tone because the Upper East Side socialite who’d had zero financial struggles genuinely sounded as if she were empathizing. Not sympathizing, but as if she could relate. Which was ridiculous. Right?
“She had to sell the house to keep us all together. To keep Sarah riding and me racing.”
“Sarah told me. That’s awful. It must have been hard on you as the only boy in the house.”
“Why do you say that?” Because in all the years since his dad walked out, no one had ever stopped to think about the situation from that angle.
“I imagine there was a lot of pressure on you to be the man of the house, take care of your sisters and mom, while balancing the stress that comes with your sport. That’s a lot for anyone, let alone a fifteen-year-old. That must have been lonely. Having one foot in each world.”
“Is that how you felt after your dad passed?” he asked quietly.
She gave a barely visible nod. “I still do.”
Her answer resonated deeply within him. “Then you get why I need this wedding to be perfect for Sarah. Between my old man being absent and her bastard of an ex, Sarah can’t take another betrayal, which is why I have to ask… Out of all of our cousins, why did she ask you to be in the wedding party? You guys haven’t seen each other in years.”
Unlike most women he knew, she didn’t look offended in the slightest by this direct question. In fact, she looked poised and professional as if this was where she shined. “Honestly? Because she was afraid that moving one of the cousins up would cause drama among the family and the spotlight would be taken off the wedding and onto the drama. By putting me, a veteran bridesmaid in, it erases any bickering in the ranks.”
“A veteran bridesmaid? How many of these have you done?”
She snorted. Yeah, she was a little tipsy. “More than you could imagine.”
“You ever been the one in the veil?” A zing of unexpected jealousy raced through his veins.
“Not a once. I’m not one for the spotlight.”
Somehow he doubted that. Just look at that dress. Whenever she was in the room, he couldn’t look anywhere but at her. He’d caught other guys looking as well. Not that he blamed them, but it didn’t explain why it made him want to punch them.
“Good to know. Her ex was. But, for the right price, he found another spotlight to stand under.”
Her jaw dropped to the floor. “You paid off Sarah’s ex to leave?”
Henry winced. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d let the wine loosen their lips. “I paid him off to keep his mouth shut. He was going to post compromising photos of them together.”
“Oh, Hank, I am so sorry. No woman should have to go through that. Did you try to pay off Wayne?”
“Yup, but he wouldn’t take a penny.”
“I can tell he really loves her.”
“You think?”
“I know. And I’ve seen a lot of brides and grooms walk down the aisle, so I can gauge these things. Your sister and Wayne will make it. I just know it.”
“What are you, a professional gambler on weddings?” he asked, and her entire demeanor changed. Her back went stiff, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and her eyes went wide with, well he didn’t know, but she looked shaken. “Hank, we didn’t get off on the right foot, and we definitely aren’t going to be braiding each other’s hair any time soon.”
“Too bad, I am an excellent braider. French is my specialty. I can get you references if you like.”
Not even a laugh. Whatever just happened had transformed her back into the uptight princess. “I’ll pass.”
“A test drive then?”
“Hard pass.”
He laughed.
“What I can give you is a promise that I am the best bridesmaid for your sister, and I am going to do my best to make sure that she has the wedding of her dreams, even if it means slumming it with you for the day.”