Chapter 24 Blair
BLAIR
The dinner service has wrapped up, the cake has been cut and served, and the guests are getting louder.
I'm sitting at the head table, nursing a beer and watching the farm wedding in full swing.
The remainder of Emma's three-tiered cake sits on a side table, white fondant roses scattered at the base.
Kids are running between tables and Liv's Uncle Pete is telling increasingly inappropriate stories to anyone within earshot.
The band that was indeed booked for the wrong date but was luckily available today is positioned near the makeshift dance floor—a section of artificial turf. They're playing something slow and romantic while Emma and David prepare for their first dance as husband and wife.
I look at Liv beside me. She's been in motion all evening, coordinating the dinner service, managing the photographer, and making sure every single detail runs smoothly.
But now, for the first time today, she's sitting still.
Her shoulders have finally dropped and she's blowing out her cheeks like she needed a breather.
Emma beams as David takes her hand for their first dance. David whispers something in Emma's ear that makes her laugh, and she throws her head back with pure joy.
The band begins "At Last" by Etta James, and Emma melts into David's arms like she belongs there.
Bill Barnes wipes his eyes while Moira clutches his arm, both of them beaming.
There's something undeniably moving about watching two people who are genuinely, completely in love. I understand why Liv is cynical about marriage after what happened to her. Hell, I'd probably feel the same way if someone had betrayed me like that. But some people get it right.
The song ends, and the guests erupt into applause. Emma and David kiss, still swaying slightly to music that's no longer playing, lost in their own little world.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the lead singer announces into his microphone, "we'd like to invite you all to join the bride and groom for a dance."
This is my cue. I stand up and extend my hand toward Liv, who's still sitting and staring at her sister with an unreadable expression.
"Dance with me," I say.
She looks up at me with surprise, then shakes her head, almost shyly. "I can't. I should check on the catering staff, make sure they're handling the cleanup properly. And the photographer needs to get those family group shots we discussed, and—"
"Nonsense," I interrupt, keeping my hand extended. "You're done for today. You've done more than enough, and everything's running smoothly. Besides," I add, "your family will expect us to dance. We're madly in love, remember?"
She hesitates for another moment, then takes my hand. "Fine. But just one song."
I lead her onto the dance floor, where several other couples are already swaying to the next song.
When I turn to face Liv, I'm struck by how beautiful she looks.
She's wearing a navy wrap dress with a low neckline that makes it a struggle to ignore her cleavage, and the tie accentuates her waist. Her dark hair has come slightly loose from its style, and there's a flush across her cheekbones.
I place one hand on her waist and take her other hand in mine, and she steps closer, her free hand resting on my shoulder. We start moving together, and I'm surprised by how naturally we fit. She follows my lead easily, like we've done this before.
"You did an incredible thing today," I tell her as we dance. She smells so good.
Liv shakes her head, looking embarrassed by the praise. "It was a team effort. You, Marcus, Beth, Mom and Dad, the florists—"
"Just take the compliment," I interrupt her. "You turned a disaster into something beautiful."
She smiles, and the music wraps around us. Other couples move past us on the small dance floor, but I'm only aware of Liv. The way she feels in my arms. The warmth of her hand in mine. Her body inching closer and closer until we're aligned.
My thumb starts tracing small circles on her waist, and I watch her face to gauge her reaction. Her eyes flutter closed for just a moment. I let my hand drift lower on her back, enough that she has to know it's intentional. She doesn't pull away. If anything, she leans into the touch.
"They'd probably expect us to kiss too," I murmur, close enough to her ear that my lips are brushing against it.
She shivers. "Probably," she whispers.
I pull back a little. Her lips are parted, her eyes dark and focused on my mouth. The energy between us feels charged.
I tilt my head and kiss her softly. This isn't for show anymore. This is real, and the moment our lips touch, something shifts. She kisses me back, her hand tightening on my shoulder as she lets out a soft whimper.
It's over too quickly—appropriate for a public setting but nowhere near enough. When we break apart, she's looking at me with layered emotions I'm still deciphering. Want, definitely. But something else too. Surprise, maybe?
I'm not usually the type to get caught up in romantic moments.
I've always been practical about relationships—enjoy them while they last, don't expect forever, and in the past five years, I haven't been in a committed relationship at all.
But dancing under the stars with Liv, I feel something I haven't felt in a long time.
She's getting under my skin in ways I didn't expect.
It's not just physical attraction—though God knows there's plenty of that.
It's the way she transforms when she's in her element, the fierce loyalty she has for her family despite her cynicism about love, the vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.
The song ends, and around us couples start moving apart, but we stay frozen for a moment longer. My hand is still on her back, her hand still in mine, and I can feel her pulse racing where my thumb rests against her wrist.
"I should check on—" she starts.
"Everything's fine," I interrupt. "Your work here is done, Boss."
She looks around one more time, then back at me. "I suppose you're right."
"I'm always right," I say with a grin. "It's one of my most attractive qualities."
She laughs, then wraps her arms around my neck. "Along with your modesty, of course." Her smile softens as she looks at me. "Well, thank you for the dance, Sailor. This was nice."
"And thank you for that kiss," I say, my voice dropping lower. "That was more than nice." I lean closer and whisper, "You know, if you try to jump me again tonight, I won't say no."