Chapter 6
Present Day…
Weddings are fun. I love weddings.
Or at least I always have…until tonight.
It’s been over a year since that night with Tessa in the tent.
Eighteen long months of avoiding eye contact at family functions and exchanging polite smiles when I stop by Melissa’s catering company to fetch food for office parties.
You would think the awkwardness would have faded by now, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s grown more intense, along with the attraction I feel for this incomparable woman.
She fucking haunts me.
Watching her dance at Melissa’s wedding in my parents’ barn is torture. In a sky-blue bridesmaid’s dress the same color as her eyes and a flower crown topping her chestnut hair, she’s the most beautiful woman in the room. Her smile, her curves, the way the dimple pops when she laughs…they all send an ache twisting through my chest. Every graceful sweep of her arms, every swivel of her hips reminds me of that night I can’t forget, no matter how hard I try.
I close my eyes for a beat and see Tessa silhouetted by the moonlight streaming through the tent, her full breasts bare as she leans over me, whispering, “We shouldn’t do this.”
But we did.
Boy, did we.
And it was filthy and lava hot and so damned wrong. Far more wrong than Tessa realized at the time.
The disappointment on her face the next morning, her shock as I explained my plan to exit my current relationship with as much haste as possible, made me feel like the lowest form of scum.
I wasn’t just scum; I was scum skimmed off a puddle of toxic waste filled with dog shit and chunks of soggy oatmeal cookie.
Opening my eyes, I set my slice of wedding cake down on one of the bar tables on this side of the barn, suddenly losing my appetite for sweets.
I showed Tessa I was a cheater, proving to her before we even got started that I wasn’t a man she could trust. It didn’t matter that I’d never cheated before and had no plans to do so again. Or that there were very real, very valid reasons I didn’t text her until hours later than I promised and had to delay breaking up with Darcy.
But Tessa didn’t want to hear my reasons. She didn’t want to hear anything from me. Her ears—and her heart—were closed against me for good. I’d fucked up in a way there was no coming back from. The only thing to do was move on and try to be a better man, using the incredible woman who got away as motivation to live in my integrity.
If I get another chance with a woman like Tessa, I won’t fuck it up again.
But there’s one problem with that plan.
There is no other woman like Tessa. I’ve been looking, believe me, but I haven’t met a woman I’ve wanted to take on a second date, let alone bring home every night. Tessa’s special, a unique mix of impulsive, playful, and sweet, with a lust for adventure that calls to the deepest part of me.
I don’t want to hike the Appalachian Trail with some other woman, I want to hike it with Tessa. That’s why I postponed my trip last summer.
And it’s why I didn’t bring a date tonight. I didn’t want to share Melissa’s wedding with just anyone, I wanted to share it with Tessa. Or at least be free to watch her from the shadows and beat myself up for screwing up my chance with her without interruption.
Which I’m managing to pull off quite well if I do say so myself…
Right until the moment her ex, Nate Spear, sidles up behind her, putting an arm around her waist.
Nate, who ghosted her without so much as a “see you later,” break-up text.
Nate, who stares right through her when they pass on the street, acting like she’s invisible in a way she confessed drives her absolutely insane.
Nate, who she once thought was her person, the man who would deliver the happily-ever-after she’s wanted for so long…
Before I realize it, I’m on the move. I aim myself for the dance floor and Tessa’s now startled face.
I may not be good enough for her, but neither is Mr. Grabby Hands.
I’m usually a peace-loving guy, but sometimes you have to inter-fucking-vene.
So, I do. I inter-fucking-vene.
By the time Tessa turns, shooting Nate an incredulous look over her shoulder, I’m beside them. “Let her go,” I say, fighting to keep my voice low. I don’t want to cause a scene at my sister’s wedding, but I’m not about to let this man get away with touching Tessa without her permission.
Not after everything he’s done.
Nate’s bleary eyes widen my way, but the arm around her waist doesn’t budge as he slurs, “Wassup, McGuire? I didn’t know you could dance.” He snorts. “Thought you had too big a stick up your ass.”
“Let her go,” I repeat, prompting Tessa to hiss, “It’s fine, Wes. I’ll handle it.”
“See?” Nate flashes a smug, drunken grin my way as he tugs her closer. “She’ll handle it. Tessa can take care of herself.” He shoots a pointed glance down to where her bottom is pressed tight to his hips before looking back at me. “She’s a big girl.”
And that’s it. That’s all it takes to make me lose my damned mind.
Before I know what I’m doing, Nate’s dress shirt is balled in my hands. I charge across the room, dragging him with me until I reach one of the barn’s large support beams and slam him against it. I’m dimly aware of gasps of shock from the other guests and the band screeching to a halt, but it doesn’t stop my mouth from growling, “You touch her again, and I will destroy you. That’s it. That’s the message, Nate. Now take your drunken ass home, sober up, and start thinking about all the ways you’re going to make sure you stay away from Tessa in the future.”
He blinks, his dark eyes clearer than they were before as he sputters, “What the fuck’s wrong with you, McGuire? She’s my fucking girlfriend.”
“We haven’t dated for almost two years, Nate,” Tessa says, appearing beside me. “You’re drunk. Go home and email me an apology tomorrow morning. I’m open to being friends if you are, but the ghosting and grabbing has to stop. You also owe Melissa an apology. She invited you as a favor to her cousin, who is friends with you for some unknown reason, and you abused her trust and generosity.”
Nate hangs his head, muttering, “Sorry.”
I’m feeling proud of her when Tessa shifts her focus my way, her glare sharpening into a deadly weapon as she whispers, “And you… You’re even more ridiculous. I don’t need your protection, Wesley. I don’t need anything from you, except for you to leave me alone.”
My hands release Nate’s shirt with a spasm as my jaw drops.
Before I can respond, Tessa points a firm finger at my face and continues in a voice too soft for anyone else to hear, “That’s it. Enough of this embarrassing nonsense. I’ll stay on my side of the barn and you stay on yours. If you ruin another second of Mel’s wedding because of me, I will never forgive you. Never.”
She spins and walks away, smiling widely and waving to the band. “It’s fine. We’re all good. Just a case of too much wine and not enough sense. Play on, guys. We have a wedding to celebrate!”
The lead guitarist nods and lifts a hand, counting the band in for a cover of “Come on Eileen,” the anthem of Irish-American people everywhere. Anyone with more than a drop of Irish blood in their veins is helpless against the song, compelled to jump, shout, and belt out the chorus with abandon whenever it’s played.
The McGuires, being about as Irish as you can get without having shamrocks growing out of our ears, are easy prey to the tune’s magic.
In less than a minute, the party is hopping again, all my nearest and dearest bouncing on the dance floor while the old folks cheer them on from their tables and the various pets run around barking and oinking and…skunking with their happy people.
I have no idea what sound a skunk makes—Bella, Christian’s unconventional pet, is a pretty quiet lady—but the rest of the menagerie holds nothing back. Keanu Reeves, the dog, is barking his head off, Kyle the turkey and his family are warbling up a storm, and my cousin Theo’s pig appears to be singing along as she prances back and forth in front of the stage.
It sounds like a zoo at feeding time, which I blame for the fact that I don’t hear Melissa calling my name until she tugs on my sleeve and shouts, “Wesley!”
I glance sharply down at my sister, who’s studying me with wide, shocked eyes. “What on earth? Overreact much?”
“He grabbed her,” I say, torn between the feral part of me that feels completely justified in borderline assault and the part of me that’s mortified that I made such a scene.
“Yes, but Tessa could have handled it,” Mel says, crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. Even in her lacy maternity wedding dress, swollen belly, and own flower crown, my sister manages to exude the air of a drill sergeant, in control of all she surveys. “She’s a grown-up. If she wanted help, she would have asked for it.”
I pull in a breath, but before I can apologize, Mel flaps a hand toward the open door at the back of the barn. “Don’t waste your apology on me. Tessa went out back to get some air. I suggest you follow her and do an appropriate amount of groveling.” I start to speak again, but Mel shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it, brother. I’m not mad. You didn’t ruin the day.” She grins. “It wouldn’t be an Irish wedding if someone didn’t get into a drunken fight. And Chase is already passed out with Grammy inside on the couch, so he didn’t see anything upsetting. Now, go. Apologize to Tessa, make things right, then get another piece of cake. Cake heals all wounds.” She pulls me in for a hug.
“Thanks,” I tell the top of her head. My shortest, but most badass, sister is always right. “Congratulations again. The ceremony was beautiful. Chase is a lucky little guy to have a stepdad like Aaron.”
She pulls back, beaming up at me. “Right? God, I landed a great one, didn’t I? He loves me a ridiculous amount.”
“An appropriate amount,” I correct, making her laugh as she nudges me in the stomach with her fist.
“That’s right.” She winks. “Don’t worry, you’ll find a woman to worship someday soon. I’m sure of it.”
I arch a brow, wondering if she knows something I don’t.
Has Tessa said something? About what happened between us? About maybe wishing it could happen again? This time while we’re locked in the bonds of a serious, committed relationship?
I shake my head, dismissing the thought as I head toward the back of the barn. If Mel knew, she would have said something before now. She probably would have read me the riot act for being a dirty cheating asshole who upset her best friend. At the very least, I would have received a stern warning to treat Tessa like a fucking queen.
But I haven’t heard a word from my sister. Tessa and I promised each other we wouldn’t speak about what happened with anyone else, and Tessa’s not the kind to break a promise.
Neither am I, a fact that’s made all of this so much harder.
I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about my mistake or the fallout or how desperately I wish I could turn back time and do things differently. I knew that night in the woods that the connection I felt with Tessa was special, but I didn’t realize how special until the chance of seeing her again was off the table.
Since then, I’ve been plagued by the gut-churning suspicion that she’s The One. My One. And I was hers and one stupid mistake on my part ruined that for both of us.
Maybe forever.
I’ve tried to approach her, to explain myself and talk it out, at least a dozen times, but every time Tessa sees me headed her way, she finds a reason to vanish.
When I step outside in the cool, spring evening, I half expect her to be gone.
But she isn’t. She’s there, at the far edge of the cluster of fire pits—where my teenage cousins are flirting with the few non-McGuire girls at the reception—beyond the strings of golden lights strung for the occasion, back by the oak tree. She’s in the swing my brothers and sisters and I kept busy when we were small, drifting slowly back and forth, her dress fluttering in the breeze like something out of a dream.
I take a breath, my heart racing as I make my way through the campfire smoke toward her, the scent sending visceral reminders of our night by the fire rushing through me. My fingers tingle with the memory of how soft her skin felt beneath my hands, my lips prickle with the need to press against hers again.
I haven’t been with another woman since Tessa. I’ve kissed a few, but it never went further than that. No matter how lonely I’ve been, I didn’t want it to. After that rush, that connection I felt with Tessa, after the way she welcomed everything I had to give, no holding back, all other women seem two-dimensional in comparison.
I’m beginning to suspect I might be in love with her, as wild as that might seem after just one night, and this could be it—my long-awaited shot to turn things around, to convince her that I can be worthy of her, if she’ll only give me a second chance.
I’m almost to the swing, close enough to smell her light, floral perfume on the breeze, when it happens. A long, sleek shadow separates from the tree trunk and dashes toward me, flowing gracefully over the rocky dirt like an eel slipping through water.
As it zips closer, I have a split second to notice the big blue ribbon tied around the creature’s neck—a ribbon the exact shade of Tessa’s dress—before it leaps at my crotch, fangs bared.