Chapter 37 #3
This time, it’s Olivia’s turn to get emotional.
“I swear this will be quick, and then no more tears for the rest of the night,” she promises, raising her shot glass for a toast. “To my best friends. Though I’ll soon have a husband who vows to be by my side for the rest of my life, you two were there first, and I know you always will be.
Through good times and in bad, I know I can always count on you two. Thank you. I love you.”
“Goddammit, Olivia,” Grace hisses, fanning her eyes with her free hand. “I love you, too.”
I laugh through my own perpetually watery eyes. “Love you both. Always.”
“Are you ladies okay over there?” someone calls from where they’re perched against the bar.
“We’re fine,” Grace calls back. “Our girl here is getting married and we’re a little emotional.”
After we down our second tequila shots, the man who asked if we were okay tries to buy us another round, but we switch to glasses of water to offset the tequila. Olivia gives him the two shots we still have left because she swears she’ll throw up if she drinks another one.
The bar is crowded, and I spot more than a few pairs of cowboy boots and flannels for country night. We join the crowded dance floor and sip our waters while we dance to the twangy music, and I try not to break an ankle in my heels.
When our drinks are finished, we make our way down the street to The Tavern, which is more lowkey and quiet enough that we can have an actual conversation. We all squeeze into a booth and share appetizers and a pitcher of margaritas, and Gail makes sure we each have a glass of water, too.
We’re at our fourth bar when Olivia’s drinks really catch up with her.
Everywhere we go, people want to buy drinks for the bride-to-be.
Most of them want to buy all of us a round, but I manage to refuse at least half of them, or pass them off to someone else.
I’m just past tipsy, but not fully drunk.
For the sake of the job I have to do tomorrow, I can’t indulge as much as Grace and Olivia tonight.
“This is the best night of my life,” Olivia yells while we wait for the bartender to take our order. She insisted on just one more glass of liquid courage before taking the stage for the real reason we’re here tonight – karaoke.
“Until two nights from now when you actually have the best night of your life,” Grace reminds her.
“Okay, yes, that will be the best.” Olivia nods seriously. “But until then? It’s tonight.”
“My sweet, drunk girl,” Gail says, patting her daughter’s hair affectionately.
“I’m not drunk,” Olivia insists. It might be convincing, if not for the way she wobbles slightly in her heels as she says it.
“Then why is your headband on backwards?” a deep voice asks from behind us.
We all turn and Olivia lets out a squeal of delight. In seconds, she’s flinging herself at her fiancé, who immediately wraps his arms around her. With her heeled boots, she’s nearly the same height as him.
“I missed you,” she tells him, though they saw each other a few hours ago.
“Missed you more,” Cam says, planting a smacking kiss on her lips. He grins down at her and I swear, love shines from every pore on that man’s face. He loves Olivia loudly, and we love him for it.
Tonight, though, he might be loving her just a little too loudly. His hands slide down to her ass and squeeze, and our group lets out a mixture of choked laughs and groans.
“On that note, I’m going to take a potty break,” Gail announces, slipping away from our group and heading toward the back of the bar.
“Oops,” Cam says sheepishly, though he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. I think he might be just as drunk as our bride tonight.
The rest of their group – Ty, Noah, Ethan, a few of Cam’s buddies from work, and a cousin or two – gather around us at the bar and say their hellos. A round of quick introductions is made, but I’m distracted, scanning the room for the only face I want to see right now.
I’m on my second scan of the room when my gaze snags on a tall, tattooed man weaving his way through the crowd between the door and the bar.
At least a head taller than most people in here, he’s easy to spot as he shoulders his way past a rowdy group of guys, scanning the room the way I had just been.
When his gaze lands on me, his smile is immediate and wide.
It sends a pang straight to my heart, the way he smiles so easily these days.
I’d been surprised to learn he even has a dimple beneath his left eye.
I wish I was close enough to see it now.
I watch Declan zig-zag through the crowd and finally emerge by my side. It scares me a little bit, how right he feels there. Like an essential puzzle piece fitting into place.
I blame the alcohol for the way I blatantly check him out.
The way my eyes rake over his denim-clad thighs, noting how his jeans hug him in all the right places.
I want to reach out and run my hand across his stomach, feel the hard muscle that I know is there beneath his fitted white T-shirt.
The dark gray, short-sleeved linen shirt that he’s left unbuttoned is one I haven’t seen on him before.
It looks soft, and my hands itch to run my hands over his shoulders and feel it beneath my palms.
It’s dark enough that I can’t make out all the intricate designs on his arms and hands, or the one snaking up his neck, but I have them memorized by now.
I’ve studied the black ink against the pale blue of my bed sheets as he told me the stories behind them.
Some of them mean something special; others are simply designs he liked or chose on a whim.
I know where each tattoo ends and the next one begins, because I’ve run my fingers and my mouth over them all, even the ones on his muscular thighs and the one on his elbow.
In a short time, I’ve memorized every inch of this big, beautiful man who, for some inexplicable reason, has claimed the title of being mine.
I think I’ve been doing a good job at hiding just how much that terrifies me. But when Declan steps closer and slides an arm around my waist, I can’t help the way my spine stiffens. It’s not Declan I’m shying away from – it’s the very crowded bar and the eyes that are bound to be on us.
I try not to make it obvious as I step out of his hold and look up at him. “Declan. Hi.”
His brow furrows slightly as he looks down at me, and his smile dims. The pang in my chest is for an entirely different reason this time.