Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Xavier had been to a wedding or three in his lifetime. Hell, he’d been in a wedding or three in his lifetime. He knew the drill well enough that he could have drafted the damn itinerary.
So when Posy and her father walked down the runner, and everyone stood to face her, and when the groomsman behind Posy’s fiancé gave him a swift pat on the shoulder, it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.
Neither was the preacher or the vows—written by the bride and groom—or the applause when they kissed.
What was different about this ceremony was that he was here with May.
He typically went solo to weddings, especially the ones he’d been in.
Reason being it was easier to go solo. No questions, no expectations.
But with May, he’d happily ticked the plus-one box. Being with her felt natural—even here.
Next to him, she pulled her shoulders back.
She’d kept a smile on her face as if she was acutely aware of the location of the photographer.
She also knew the precise whereabouts of her ex, who happened to be directly across from them.
The seating was different from the weddings he’d been to before, he conceded.
At Posy’s wedding, they hadn’t divided the groom’s side from the bride’s side.
Once the ceremony was over and Posy and Marcus Waterford made their way to the barn, everyone stood to filter out behind them. Evidently there’d be no formal post-wedding photos or a receiving line. As Posy had announced after she kissed her groom, the plan was, “Let’s dance!”
Xavier shuffled onto the runner, his arm at May’s back, his head down to make sure she had her footing. When he lifted his chin, his date and her ex were standing face-to-face.
“Prescott. Hi.” Neutral. Measured.
“Hello, May.” Formal. Devoid of emotion.
Prescott Stanton regarded Xavier, chin lifted despite them standing at roughly the same height.
Bring it, jerk.
“Xavier Dane.” He offered his hand, pleased when Prescott was resigned to shake it. “May’s date.”
“This is Sarina.” Prescott pulled the woman at his side closer, though by the looks of her, he could have lifted her off the ground and twirled her around a few times.
Petite and under five feet tall, she had a whole Ariana-Grande thing going on: Wide, doe-like eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a pink smile.
“You must be May!” Sarina chirped as she flipped her dark blonde hair over one bared shoulder. She’d worn white. To a wedding.
“Nice to meet you.” May’s tone was level, but she stiffened against his hand, which was resting on her back.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Sarina pressed her hand—her left one—to her décolletage. A sizable solitaire diamond on a gold band glinted in the sunlight. She shook out her fingers. “Dang, this thing is heavy.”
Prescott, his mouth turned down into a disgruntled frown, tried to fold her left hand into his, but Sarina was determined. She shot out her arm in May’s direction. “Is this not the most massive diamond you’ve ever seen?”
Xavier glanced at May, who still wore her polite smile.
“I could barely fit through the doorway of our new house after he proposed—the ring is that huge.” Sarina emitted a delicate snort. “What we will do with seven thousand square feet, I’ll never know.”
“Sarina.” Prescott didn’t follow that up with anything else.
Sarina reached up and literally booped his nose before saying, “I’m so blessed. None of this is me complaining.”
Definitely not complaining. Bragging, on the other hand…
“Congratulations,” Xavier said since May hadn’t said anything yet. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head.
Prescott looked like he wanted the earth beneath his feet to swallow him—or Sarina—whole. “We moved in two months ago.”
“That was the day we got engaged!” Sarina added with a fairy-princess bounce. What an odd match these two were. “It’s happening fast. The wedding is next summer. Are you going to come?”
“We should go in,” Prescott interrupted before Sarina said more. Though Xavier didn’t know what more she could say, unless she announced that they’d won the lottery and purchased a football team. “May. Xavier.”
“See ya in there,” Xavier said. Prescott and Sarina scuttled up the runner like crabs dodging an incoming tide. Once they were out of earshot, Xavier turned to May. “You okay?”
She blew out a breath. “That was a lot.”
“Agree.”
“The Prescott I knew didn’t want to get married. Or move in together.”
“And now he has a bride and a mansion.”
“No one told me.” She shook her head. “It shouldn’t matter.”
“Yeah, but it does. It’s hard when the person you thought would be your future finds a future with someone else. Doesn’t matter who dumped who. That shit stings.”
“Thanks for not making me feel crazy.” She offered a grateful smile that filled him with pride.
“You’re not crazy. Just human.”
Their eyes held for a prolonged moment that made him want to kiss her. He was also aware of how many people were surrounding them. He had zero qualms about taking her in his arms, but today wasn’t about him. He was here to help her navigate treacherous ex territory, so he’d take his cues from her.
She hugged his arm with both of hers, looking up at him with such trust and admiration, he knew he’d made the right call.
“I used to think I wanted the house, the wedding, all of it. But now… I don’t know.”
Xavier’s heart ached hearing that. Even though he agreed.
He’d slammed the door on long-term commitments after Tracie cheated on him.
It felt easier—safer, if he were being honest—to go back to keeping things casual with women.
He was willing to have a good time for a little while, but he preferred to walk away unscathed.
That version of him was familiar. Comfortable.
But for May, it didn’t seem like a choice of comfort. It felt like loss. Like the marriage, the house, the kids, and the family dog were things she continued to desire in the quiet chambers of her heart. Which was tragic, because she was a good person who should have everything she wanted in life.
“You might still want that. Just not with him.”
She hummed in consideration while low-key panic jolted his ribcage.
He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.
He had given up emotional intimacy cold turkey, like a smoker who’d been up to three packs a day.
Xavier was slotted comfortably into bachelor life.
Sure, he lamented being alone, but that was why God made hobbies.
He wasn’t completely sure he had the capacity to trust again, which had less to do with May than it did with his own fucked-up past. And she didn’t need a project.
She didn’t need to fix his warped sense of commitment.
She deserved some peace after the hell she’d been through.
There. Now that he’d justified that half to death…
“Hey, can I grab you a glass of wine?”
“That would be appreciated. I spotted Prescott’s older sister. I’m going to say hi.” She pointed out the tall woman with long, dark hair in loose curls. “That’s the one and only Paisley Stanton-James.”
The woman was beautiful, with an intimidating air surrounding her.
“Careful,” he told May, only half kidding.
“She’s harmless,” May assured him.
“Meet you over there in a minute.” Then he went to the bar to order a glass of wine for May and a beer for himself.
Potentially with a sidecar of vodka to reset his thoughts.
Regardless of arguing with himself about not being the right guy for May, his blood ran hot at the idea of her with anyone else.
That shit would not do.
When Paisley spotted May coming toward her, she practically shoved her husband to the floor to get to her. May had to laugh when the other woman embraced her. She’d always thought of Paisley as the older sister she’d never had. Her embrace had been missed.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming! Posy received your RSVP three days ago.”
May winced, embarrassed about her indecisiveness. It wasn’t like her. “I wasn’t sure if I had a date until the last minute,” she sort-of lied.
“And do you?” Paisley raised her eyebrows in interest.
“Yes. The bearded guy at the bar.”
“Daaaaammn.” Paisley never minced words, so May trusted the sincerity. “That’s one pretty white boy.”
May chuckled. She wouldn’t argue with that.
“How’d you two meet?”
“He owns Salty Dog.”
“An entrepreneur. I approve.”
And a millionaire, May thought but didn’t say. It was even more impressive that he was self-made.
“I met Sarina.” That was the equivalent of throwing a baited hook into the lake and waiting for a pike to grab hold.
Paisley, far too elegant to be compared to a pike, was also utterly incapable of resisting fresh bait. She made a noise in the back of her throat. “Do not get me started on that one.”
“She mentioned the diamond ring and the house in the same breath.” May remained neutral but was silently delighted when Paisley rolled her eyes.
“She does that.” Then, in a rare moment of softness, Paisley added, “Someone should have told you about the engagement.”
“It’s fine.” May waved her off.
“Yes, but it would have been more fine if you’d known ahead of time. I told Posy that. She was afraid you wouldn’t come if you knew he was engaged and living with someone.”
May considered that for a second. She might not have come. Not because it was painful to see Prescott with someone else—it wasn’t—but because it was painful to think of what she’d lost.
“I still would have come.”
“You’re a beautiful liar,” Paisley said with tenderness.
A few minutes later, Xavier and Terrell returned with drinks and were soon deep in their own conversation. Xavier had mentioned that he could hold his own, and May was pleased to learn he hadn’t been exaggerating.
“Pres used to say marriage was a scam,” Paisley said, picking up where they’d left off. “And then he meets this woman, they date for three months, and boom, engaged. House. Insanity.”
Three months. That was how long he and May had been dating when her mom passed away. The memory rushed back in, vivid and sharp. Her future could have been wife to Prescott, sister-in-law to Paisley and Posy, daughter to Cherie and Howell.
Some of it sounded nice. Every part, save being married to Prescott.
“When you know, you know.” May’s offered cliche fell flat, but Paisley didn’t call her on it.
Instead, she touched May’s arm. “The truth is, even though you’re the one who dumped his ass, seeing him move on packs a punch. You’re fine without him. I know that. You came here for Posy, for me, and for Mom and Dad. But you were denied the opportunity to properly prepare for Prescott.”
“May, my beauty!” Cherie Stanton swept in, radiant in a teal dress and a shawl intricately embroidered with gold thread. “I’m so glad you’re here. This wedding would not have been the same without you.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Even after being confronted by Prescott and his child bride.
“I enjoyed the ceremony,” Cherie said, folding her arms over her ample bosom, “but the reception is out of hand. Did you know Posy isn’t tossing a bouquet, or having a father-daughter dance? No cutting the cake? What’s there to do?”
“Dance,” May answered. Posy and her new hubs, Marcus, hadn’t left the dance floor yet. “I’ll have to cut in if I want to say hello to her.”
“I’ll take you out there,” Xavier interjected.
“You dance too?” Paisley asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
Paisley pointed at Terrell, who took immediate offense purely for comedic reasons. “I dance,” he argued.
“Not well,” Paisley quipped.
Xavier offered May his hand. “What do you say?”
Her heart raced. The thought of being in his arms, his hands on her body, their mouths close, their eyes locked…
There was only one answer.
“Yes.”