Chapter 26
Ramzi couldn’t stop touching her.
Not just because he wanted to—though God knew he did—but because he could feel her slipping away, and he didn’t understand why.
Last night, she’d been fire and silk in his arms, passionate and present.
Yesterday, she’d laughed easily, teased him, lit up when he walked into the bar like she couldn’t wait to see him.
She wanted him. Of that, he was certain.
But more than that, he suspected she felt something deeper than she was willing to admit. And now, she was retreating—bit by bit—and he didn’t know how to stop it.
He couldn’t pull her away right now. Stacy wanted her close, and Tabitha wasn’t about to abandon her friend. But the moment this event wrapped up, he was going to find a quiet corner, sit her down, and talk. Really talk. He had no intention of letting her walk away from what they’d started.
Until then, he needed this sliver of connection. He needed her next to him. And despite everything, she hadn’t strayed far from his side. Even with half the town clamoring to talk to her—neighbors, friends, people who’d had two full days to catch up—she kept gravitating back to him.
I want to catch up with her, he thought bitterly. He wanted to know what the hell had shifted between the night they tangled in the sheets and this moment. She was still physically close, but emotionally?
She was shutting down.
“The ceremony was wonderful!” Tabitha said, hugging Stacy and John. And then—like a magnet—she was back at his side.
“Thanks,” Stacy beamed, linking her fingers with John’s. “We’re ready to get out of here, but my mom says we have to stick around for another hour.”
John laughed and kissed her lightly. “We still have to cut the cake, sweetheart.”
Stacy groaned, eyeing the towering, flower-covered masterpiece. “Right. That.”
She looked around the yard, where guests were dancing, chatting, and clearly having a great time without needing the bride and groom.
“Think we could sneak out after the cake? No one seems to care what we’re doing anymore.”
Tabitha’s laugh lit up the space between them, and Ramzi felt it resonate deep in his chest.
“I don’t think anyone would blame you,” she said, her voice warm. “Once the cake’s cut, you’ve officially fulfilled your wedding duties.”
“There’s no sneaking out in this,” Stacy said, gesturing to her layered skirt. She’d already ditched the veil, and John had been out of his jacket and bow tie for hours. She leaned into her husband with a sigh. “We’re hoping to hit Ohio before we stop tonight.”
Without asking, Tabitha reached into the inside pocket of Ramzi’s suit and pulled out his phone. The movement was casual, effortless—intimate. Like she’d done it a hundred times before. Like she belonged there.
Ramzi didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“You’ve got time,” she confirmed, tucking the phone back into his pocket. Her fingers brushed the fabric of his jacket, then his chest, and it took everything in him not to catch her hand and hold it there.
“Go cut the cake, raise your glasses, and wrap this thing up,” she said, scanning the crowd. “I’ll find the maid of honor and best man and make sure their toasts happen immediately after. That way, you’re not stuck here waiting around.”
Stacy’s face lit up. “You’re a lifesaver.”
John grinned. “Seriously, thank you.”
Tabitha smiled, then turned to go.
Ramzi felt the reluctance in her step before she even moved. Her fingers lingered on his arm for a heartbeat longer than necessary. And then she was gone.
He watched her cross the grass, the silk of her dress swaying around her legs. Her back was straight, her gait confident, her ankles slim and elegant. Everyone else saw grace and poise.
He saw past it.
He knew how that perfect posture gave way to desperation in bed. He knew the sound she made when he pressed his mouth to her skin, the way she whispered his name when she shattered. She was wild and generous and utterly addictive—and he wasn’t about to lose her.
A soft chuckle to his right pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced down and found the bride beaming up at him, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“What’s so funny?” he asked warily.
“I’m about to betray my best friend’s trust,” Stacy said, completely unrepentant. “But I’m doing it anyway because I’m hoping she’ll forgive me eventually.”
Ramzi followed her gaze. Across the yard, Tabitha leaned in to whisper something into someone’s ear, her smile sweet and easy. His entire body tightened at the sight.
“She’s madly in love with you,” Stacy said, voice pitched low. “And she thinks you’re only here this weekend to help her dodge the town gossip about still being hung up on Martin.”
The second part barely registered.
She’s madly in love with you.
His gaze zeroed in on Tabitha. Her soft rose-colored dress fluttered around her legs like a secret only he got to know. And he did know—how those legs felt wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, pulling him under.
“She told you that?” he asked, not daring to take his eyes off her.
“Yep,” Stacy confirmed, her smile now softer. “And you’re in love with her too, aren’t you?”
Ramzi didn’t answer. Not here. Not now. He hadn’t told Tabitha yet, and that mattered more than anyone else knowing.
“You don’t strike me as the type who gives a damn about town gossip,” Stacy added, shifting back against John, who had wandered up and now stood behind her with his arms comfortably circling her waist. “So… when did it happen?”
Ramzi finally allowed himself a smile, watching as Tabitha linked arms with her mother, laughing at something only the two of them shared.
“Three years ago,” he said, his voice quiet with memory.
“We were working late. Negotiating a ridiculous deal. She cracked some joke and then—bam—she had this idea that completely shifted the conversation. She was brilliant, fierce, and laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair.” His lips curved. “And I knew. Right then.”
Stacy nodded like she’d suspected as much. “I think that’s around the same time she fell for you.”
He tore his gaze from Tabitha and looked down at Stacy. “Why do you say that?”
Stacy’s smile widened. “Because suddenly, it was all ‘Ramzi said this’ and ‘Ramzi did that’ and ‘you’ll never believe what Ramzi told me today.’ I couldn’t get a word in edgewise for months.”
“What about Martin?” he asked.
Stacy snorted. “Tabitha was never in love with Martin. She was doing what was expected—working at her dad’s firm, dating a decent enough guy, checking off boxes. When Martin was caught with Leandra, it was a blessing in disguise. It gave her an excuse to break free.”
She turned, surveying the crowd, her voice going softer.
“Working for your firm gave her the space to breathe. To figure out who she was. She’s built a life she actually wants now. And somewhere along the way, she fell in love with you.” Stacy looked back at him, tilting her head. “So… what are you going to do about it?”
Ramzi didn’t respond right away. Everything she’d just said was falling into place with terrifying clarity.
She loved him.
She loved him.
His throat worked. “Did she actually say those words?”
“This morning.” Stacy’s voice was gentle now. “But she doesn’t think you love her. So if you do, you’d better start convincing.”
His jaw flexed. A slow warmth unfurled in his chest, fierce and steady. She loved him. He felt ten feet tall.
And then—like fate itself was giving him a nudge—Tabitha stopped midsentence in her conversation across the room. Her gaze lifted, searching. And when her eyes locked with his, Ramzi saw it.
There it was.
That love. Shining back at him like a lighthouse in a storm.
He didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t explain. Didn’t even think.
He just started walking, never taking his eyes off her.
Because there was no one else in the world now.
Only Tabitha.
She was everything.