Chapter 5
Julian
The young man I crashed into is currently looking at me like I’m a buffet and he hasn’t eaten all week.
He rests his hand on his chest as he looks me up and down with glittery, shimmery pink eyes. I assume by the fact he’s wearing the same pink vest as me that he’s also a member of the wedding party, but it looks very different to mine on his wiry build.
Everything about the way he looks is absolutely captivating.
I don’t know a thing about make-up, but his brown skin is glowing and his lips shine with gloss.
The shade on his nails is a darker pink than our vests, but it still works within the color palette.
His hair is remarkable. It’s closely faded up around the back and sides, but on top he’s sporting short, bleached locs that fall to the front just over his forehead.
They almost look like porcupine spines. Both his lobes are pierced with earrings holding quite large pale pink stones, sparkling in the light as he moves his head this way and that.
And the scent he’s wearing? Definitely something fruity like strawberries with a hint of spice.
It’s mouthwatering.
He’s mouthwatering.
My heart is racing in my chest as he looks me over. I haven’t felt like this in…well, probably years. Like my attraction has hit me like a firetruck. It would have been a shock any day, but especially today. This is the last thing I expected.
Seeing as he’s obviously at least a decade…maybe two…younger than me, I should smack down this train of thought before it can run off the rails. But he’s also devouring me with his eyes, so perhaps it’s not the end of the world to indulge in the moment for a little longer…
Hold up.
He’s checking me out…because he’s clearly gay.
And he knows either the bride or the groom well enough to be included in their entourage.
Surely he can’t be…
“Shut up,” he hisses, his pretty pink eyes getting wider. His voice is surprisingly low, rumbling like an engine purr. “You’re not Julian Valentine, are you? You can’t be. My sister said she’d organized a dad, not a Daddy.”
“I’m not a Daddy,” I blurt without thinking, cringing slightly. Daddies are old and I’m not fucking old. But then the rest of what he said registers in my brain, mostly the part about him having a sister.
So that would make him…
“Are you Beatrice’s brother?” I ask in disbelief. “Romeo?”
Perhaps it was unfair to have been picturing a sweet, shy guy this whole time. I expected to meet someone whose parents’ rejection had diminished his soul. Someone that had been crushed who I might have the chance to lift up.
It seems as if this guy is already sky high.
He flutters his hands in front of his face. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? I’m right here! You found me! Yay!”
I feel like the rug has been yanked completely out from under me. The whole idea was for me to support a fragile young person today. Not get blindsided by this dazzling creature. He’s more like a bird of paradise than a man.
But he is a man, that much is clear. He might be younger than me, but he’s obviously not young. And by the way he’s fluttering his eyelashes at me, he’s not only unafraid to flirt but is very practiced at it.
I’m in trouble.
The desire pulsing through my veins right now has totally thrown me off balance. This is not how I like to operate, ever. I’m the one in control, calling the shots and making decisions for everyone else in the room.
Before I know what’s happening, my defenses have shot up like a force field.
“You know Juliet is asking why he’s Romeo in that quote,” I grumble with a frown. “Not where he is.”
But this guy just giggles and bats me lightly on the shoulder before resting both his hands on his hips. “Of course I do, silly. And I can tell you all about why I’m Romeo later. At this present moment, however, we need to get you to my sister! She’s going to be so excited you’re here!”
He grabs my hand and starts dragging me down the corridor. Apparently, I’m helpless to do anything but stumble along after him.
“So you live here in town?” Romeo asks as we turn a corner. This hotel is fairly typical of the architecture of the region with its terracotta tiled floor and bright cream walls. It’s not a venue I’m familiar with, otherwise I might have been able to find my own way to the bridal suite.
It would probably have been better if I hadn’t met Romeo alone, no matter how my heart is racing at the feel of my hand against his.
Because of that, in fact. I have a feeling I’m going to need a human shield between us at all times to make it through the rest of the day without doing something foolish.
“Uh, yeah,” I finally say, replying to his question. “Redwood Bay born and bred. Your sister mentioned you guys were local, too?”
“Um-hum,” Romeo agrees as we approach a large dark wooden door with ‘Bridal Suite’ inscribed on the plaque.
It really shouldn’t have been that hard to find.
“We’ve lived here our whole lives,” Romeo continues. “Even when Bee went to med school, she commuted. I lived with her for her last couple years of studying.”
He says it so casually, but I sense the significance.
When I spoke with Beatrice, she glossed over the specifics.
However, I’m pretty confident that her parents kicked Romeo out as soon as they were legally able to and she’s been there for him ever since.
She explained how much work her brother was putting into organizing her wedding and how her contacting me was kind of her only job, but an important one.
I’d guess that there’s several years between them, so perhaps becoming a surrogate parent of sorts to Romeo wasn’t that hard.
She shouldn’t have had to do that, though.
Yet again, hot anger courses through me that any parent could abandon their child like that. But I don’t get time to dwell on the matter much longer.
“Look who I found!” Romeo announces as he crashes through the door, dragging me behind him.
I recognize Beatrice where she’s sitting in a while silk robe in front of the mirror, finishing getting her make-up done.
There are four other women around the room, all wearing long pastel pink dresses, sipping on Champagne.
Everyone jerks their heads to witness our entrance.
Luckily, Beatrice doesn’t end up with eyeliner streaked across her face, but only because the make-up artist snatches her hand away before one excitable move ruins all her hard work.
Because there is so much excitement.
“Julian! You’re here!” the bride yells, jumping to her feet.
“Is this the guy you told us about?” one of the bridesmaids asks. “Who’s going to stand in for, well, you know…”
Another rolls her eyes. “No, it’s obviously some other hot firefighter captain that just wandered off the street in a three-piece suit.”
Romeo spins to face me, his eyes wide. “You’re a firefighter captain?” he repeats.
Before I can answer, Beatrice has thrown her arms around me and begins to sob. The make-up article grimaces, reaching out her hand as she goes to say something. Then apparently decides against it, clutching her brush back to her front with a sigh.
“You’re really here!” Beatrice howls, the side of her face pressed against my chest. Luckily, my jacket is black. If she was smooshing herself against the white shirt right now, I’m sure I’d immediately be on the hunt for a replacement without mascara ground into it.
“Aww,” one of the other bridesmaids says sympathetically. The vibe in the room has shifted from happy and teasing to understanding. The girls crowd around Beatrice, patting her back and stroking her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie.”
I realize Romeo is still clinging to my hand. I glance over at him and he smiles brightly back. However, I don’t miss his glassy eyes.
For the past several minutes, I’ve been preoccupied with feeling horny, forgetting that there’s a serious reason which brought me here today. Well, perhaps not forgetting entirely. But certainly not prioritizing it the way I should have been. That ends now.
“Hi, Beatrice,” I say warmly, giving her a squeeze. She manages a shuddery breath and leans back so we can see each other. Remarkably, her face is still immaculate. This make-up artist is apparently worth every dime she’s being paid.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Beatrice whispers thickly.
My heart breaks. I’m tempted to remind her that I said I’d be here, so of course I came. But the whole reason I am here is because the people in her life who should be supporting her today have let her down spectacularly.
“There’s no place else I’d rather be in the whole world,” I tell her truthfully. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. You’re looking absolutely stunning.”
“She hasn’t even put on the dress yet!” one of the bridesmaids cries, raising her Champagne glass into the air with a cheer.
The other girls copy her, and I try not to wince at the high-pitched noises that are inches from my ears.
Today should absolutely be a celebration.
I’m not going to let the fact I’ve been hiding myself away for the past several months and have forgotten how to interact with other humans deter them from their enjoyment.
“Dress! Dress! Dress!” the girls start chanting, making Beatrice laugh as she carefully wipes her eyes.
“Okay, okay!” she says, waving her hands at them.
“I guess that means it’s dress time. Gentlemen, do you think you could give us a little privacy?
” She spins around and dashes over to the dresser where she grabs one of the open bottles of Champagne and two clean glasses.
“There’s a sofa out in the hallway that I suspect is there for this very reason.
” She presses the bottle and flutes into my hands. “We’ll call you when I’m ready!”
That earns another round of squeals from all the ladies not currently patiently holding a blusher brush. It occurs to me that Romeo must have let my hand go at some point and I didn’t even notice. I glance at him, and for the briefest second I catch the melancholy on his face.
But then he’s grinning again. “Of course, darling!” he cries, bowing with a flourish for his sister. “We shall amuse ourselves while we await your summons. Come on, Captain Daddy. Let’s get this party started!”
I splutter, my cheeks flaming. I can’t believe he just called me that in front of everyone.
Sure enough, the giddy women are snickering and peeking at me between their fingers, although it’s not unkindly.
Beatrice shakes her head at me. “Good luck, Julian,” she tells me with a sigh. “My brother is a handful.”
Isn’t that an understatement? I try desperately not to think what I’d secretly quite like to get my hands on.
Because honestly? Right now, it’s a coin toss between his throat and his ass.
I realize the man in question is holding the door to the suite open like a gameshow host displaying the grand prize. Gulping, I clutch the bottle of bubbly and tall glasses tighter, then march out into the hallway without looking back at the tittering women.
I’m so confused right now.
Romeo is breathtakingly gorgeous as he shuts the door behind him, twirling like a ballerina. He grins at me as he closes the distance, plucking one of the Champagne flutes from my grasp. “What shall we toast to, Captain Daddy?” he asks, plopping down onto the sofa.
Mercifully, it’s big enough that I can sit myself at the other end without our knees touching. The horny part of my brain doesn’t need any encouragement. “Stop calling me that,” I grumble as I join him, dutifully filling the glass he’s holding aloft.
He frowns in concentration as I pour. “Daddy Captain doesn’t sound right, though.”
I huff and wait until he looks my way before arching an eyebrow. “My name is Julian. I’m not anybody’s Daddy.”
Romeo clinks his glass against my empty one. “Not yet,” he says with a wink.
How can I be so exasperated and yet turned on at the same time?
I mull it over as I decant some bubbles into my own glass, more for something to do than anything else.
I have to admit that I’d prefer a beer to this, but it doesn’t matter what I want right now.
Having a glass of Champagne in everyone’s hands adds to the celebratory atmosphere.
So even if it just gives me a prop to occupy my attention, I’ll play along.
“What shall we toast to?” Romeo asks again, tilting his head and fluttering his eyelashes at me. I take a moment to place the still half-full bottle down by the sofa leg where it’s less likely to be knocked over, then turn back to face him.
Dear lord, he’s beautiful.
And infuriating.
He waggles his eyebrows at me, waiting for my suggestion. “Uh, to the happy couple,” I reply, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.
Romeo rolls his eyes. “Bor-ring! That’s what everyone’s going to be saying later. What shall we toast to?”
He holds my gaze and I feel something more significant transpire between us.
After all, he’s basically the entire reason I’m here. We do have a unique connection whether I like it or not.
Or like it far too much to be appropriate.
Still, I can’t resist the urge to try and impress him.
It’s obvious that there was an immediate physical attraction between us that he at least hasn’t been afraid of acting on.
But a silly, insecure part of me that I’m not very familiar with also wants to charm him.
Like a peacock puffing up his feathers for a potential mate.
Not that there’s going to be any mating, of course.
“Let’s toast to…” I begin thoughtfully before a flash of inspiration strikes. “To pride. I think there’s a lot to be proud of today.”
Much to my delight, his face splits into a dazzling smile. But there’s also something genuine shimmering in his eyes. He nods and carefully taps his glass against mine. “To pride,” he agrees, his voice sounding softer than it has been since we met.
We each take a sip, but I find my gaze still locked with his. He pulls the drink away from his mouth before licking his lips, his tongue a flash of pink that tantalizingly vanishes as soon as it appears.
I try not to groan, feeling like I’ve got an angel and a devil on each of my shoulders. Unfortunately, they both seem to be whispering in my ears how delicious Romeo’s lips look, and how I should definitely think about getting myself a taste.
It’s becoming increasingly obvious that it’s going to be a very long day indeed.