27. Chapter 27
If I thought I was on cloud nine before, then I’m on cloud eleven now.
Knowing that Alyssa wants to be more than friends feels better than hitting a game-winning home run.
“Austin?” Her voice comes from the bathroom, where she’s been getting ready for a little over an hour.
“Yeah?”
“When I originally bought this dress, I thought I could have my sister or mom help me with it.” She pops her head out. “But since you’re already here, can you lace me up?”
“Like a shoe?” I laugh.
Alyssa tilts her head, a small smirk on her lips. “Kind of.”
She steps out of the bathroom, and my breath catches when I see her long blonde hair curled with two matching space buns atop her head and wrapped in floral silk scarves.
But her dress…whew. Right now, she’s holding it up by the bodice, but even not fully on, I’m floored.
It’s soft and romantic, like a vintage fairy tale.
It’s light purple and covered in floral embroidery on the skirt, perfect for the garden party vibe.
It hits her just above her ankles, showing off her white heels. She’s elegant. Gorgeous.
When she turns around to have me tie up the back, I blow out a long breath. “You’re going to have to walk me through what to do. I haven’t gotten to this part in Pride and Prejudice yet.”
Her laughter floats through the room. “There’s not an instruction manual in there.”
“Then how am I supposed to know how to lace this up?” I hold up both ends of the fabric like they’re a horse’s reins.
She walks me through it, and once she’s securely in her dress, I brush her hair aside and press a kiss to the back of her neck. Then I step back and admire her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
Alyssa blushes at the compliment. “Not in the last hour.”
“Because you were in the bathroom getting ready.” I grab her hands and pull her toward me.
“It takes time to look this good.”
“You look just as beautiful when you first wake up.”
She places her hands on her hips. “That’s what every girl who spent a bunch of time getting ready wants to hear.”
“I love that you like doing your hair and dressing up, but it’s like I said before—you’re my favorite in every form.”
“I guess I need to keep the dictionary police on speed dial,” she teases.
“Can you ask them to create a word that means even more than beautiful, gorgeous, or stunning while you’re at it? Because I could really use a new word to add to my vocabulary when trying to describe you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mm-hmm.” I wrap my hands around her lower back. “To go along with all the other words I’d use.”
“Such as?”
“Ambitious. Thoughtful. Compassionate. Talented. Easygoing. My girlfriend.” I smile. “Just to name a few.”
Alyssa rises on her toes and presses her lips to mine. I kiss her back with the reverent fervor she deserves. When we pull apart, she groans. “Do we have to go?”
I brush a curl back from her face. “Everyone will talk about where we are.”
“Let them talk.”
“What about dinner?” Her stomach growls in response. “I think your stomach has spoken.” I brush my knuckle along her cheek. “Besides, we can resume this”—I lean back in for a lingering kiss—“later.”
She beams at me. “I like the sound of that.”
Lucky for us, we have a whole lot of laters and tomorrows to spend making up for lost time.
Last night just might win the gold medal for the best night of my life. I got to spend the entire evening with Alyssa on my arm. Listening to her sparkling laughter. Holding her hand beneath the table at dinner. Watching her unrestrained joy as she talked to her family—as she smiled at me.
Then, once we got back to the hotel room, she changed into my shirt before we alternated between kissing, talking about everything and nothing all at once, and eating a room service cookie platter.
I learned my lesson earlier this week, so I only had a bite.
The taste of the chocolate on her lips was enough to satisfy my sweet tooth.
This morning I ran out to grab her daily iced toasted-coconut coffee, and when I returned to find her curling her hair again for the wedding, it felt both intimate and comfortable.
Like this is the morning routine we’ve had for years, but I still recognized how special it is to see her in moments like this.
To be the man who gets to watch her wake up, get ready for the day, wash her face, and wear my shirt to bed at night.
Now, holding Alyssa’s hand during the wedding ceremony, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to spend forever like this in our own paradise. It’s the kind of routine a guy could get used to.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant says from the raised stage.
With the beach as a background and a floral-covered arch surrounding them, Bradley and Bianca lean in for a chaste kiss.
It looks stilted and awkward, lacking passion and emotion.
I can’t say I can relate, not after the ones Alyssa and I have shared.
I turn to her, raising our joined hands to my mouth. I brush my lips against her knuckles.
She leans her head on my shoulder as the bride and groom are announced and walk back down the aisle.
I press my cheek against the top of her head, thinking about how that could be us someday. Except we wouldn’t be able to restrain our smiles—our joy. And Hayden would definitely be wolf whistling or cheering right about now.
“I’m shocked there aren’t twenty peacocks here,” I whisper.
Alyssa covers her mouth to muffle her laughter. “Or ice sculptures.”
“But who’s that woman carrying Bianca’s dress?” I know her sister Patrice was her maid of honor, but I thought they weren’t having anyone else stand up with them.
Alyssa sits up. “Get this. My mom told me that Bianca hired an attendant to walk behind her and make sure no one steps on her train the whole day.”
“Of course she did.”
Alyssa presses a kiss to my cheek and stands as our row is dismissed, giving me the perfect view of her light blue silk dress.
It has a halter neck, and the ends of the bow cascade down past her open back.
It showcases her hourglass shape perfectly, and the way her leg peeks through the open slit as she walks is like biting into a croissant thinking it’s plain, only to discover chocolate inside—the perfect surprise.
I follow after her, utterly astounded that someone like her could want to be with me. “I feel like I’m indebted to Bianca and Bradley, though,” I whisper in her ear.
She whips her head around. “What debt could you possibly owe them?”
“They’re the reason I met you three years ago.” I take her hand in mine. “And they’re the reason I got to spend this week with you.”
Her eyes soften. “I didn’t know you were a romantic.”
“This is only the beginning, Lyssa.” I pull her close and kiss the top of her head, not wanting to mess up her makeup.
“I think you can call it even, since I was technically the one who brought them together by inviting Bradley to a family reunion with me where he met Bianca for the first time.”
I shake my head. “No matter how you put it, it always sounds awful.”
She wraps her hands around my biceps, rubbing up and down my tan linen suit coat. “But it brought me to you.”
As I take her in, I’m hit again by her vibrant blue eyes. I’m not sure if it’s from the ocean behind us or some sort of magic she did with her makeup, but whatever it is, her eyes are blue pools of water I’d love to dive into and get lost exploring their depths.
My thumbs trace her exposed back. “Who’s the romantic now?” I tease.
We head to the cocktail hour area from the beach. After a few steps, she leans more heavily on my arm. “Sorry, these heels aren’t made for the sand.”
“I can fix that.” I bend down and sweep her into my arms, carrying her bridal style.
She giggles and pats my chest. “I didn’t mean you had to carry me.”
“I’ll take any excuse to have you in my arms.”
“You don’t need an excuse.” Alyssa trails her hand up my chest and shoulder to caress my neck. “Not anymore.”
The feel of her gentle fingers on my skin has me wishing we weren’t somewhere so public right now. I’m not even sure if she told her family about us yet. Though, it might be a little obvious with the way I can’t stop staring at her. Not to mention that I’m carrying her right now.
I’m frustrated with myself that it took me this long to really see her. To know we could’ve been experiencing this kind of joy all along if I’d only looked beyond my own stupidity. But there’s no changing the past, and besides, we have a whole future to look forward to.
I set Alyssa down once we reach solid ground. “Can I get you a drink?”
“What are the odds they’re serving some kind of lemonade?”
At this ridiculously fancy wedding, not very likely. But I’d do anything to make her happy. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I head over to the cocktail hour bar where all the listed drink options have been named by the “happy” couple. Bradley’s Berry Mojito. Bianca’s Bellini. BB Mine Wine. And the list goes on.
“Excuse me, do you by chance have any lemonade?”
“We’ve got a tropical one with hibiscus.”
“I’ll take two of those, please.”
“You got it.” He hands me the drinks with little umbrellas that I can’t imagine were approved by the couple for this high-class occasion.
After looking around the terrace, I finally spot Alyssa by the appetizer table. “One tropical lemonade for the beautiful woman in blue.”
Her eyes light up. “You’re the best.” She takes a long sip and hums. “That’s delicious.”
I take a swig of my own, then set the drink down on the white tablecloth. I grab a plate before looking over the options. “I don’t know what half of this stuff is.” I lean in closer, reading the placard. “Seriously, what the heck is foie gras mousse?”
“I don’t think you want to know.” She wrinkles her nose.
I grab a mango-glazed shrimp and a bacon-wrapped scallop. “I think I’ll stick with the things I can pronounce.”
“Same.” She pops a tomato from a caprese-salad skewer into her mouth. “You know what I always thought was a great idea for wedding food?”
“Only dessert tables?”
“I mean, that would be the dream.” Her lips twitch like she’s fighting back a smile.
“But for people who say cookies don’t fulfill all the food groups, I think it would be fun to have a wide assortment of food trucks.
Like those gyros we love after games and the cute taco truck that’s always set up outside the stadium.
The burger truck Kelsey and Tyler are always talking about. The options are endless.”
“I think that’s a great idea. There would be something for everyone.”
“Exactly.” She gestures to the foie gras and escargot. “But we could skip the French truck.”
We walk over to a cocktail table and set our plates and drinks down. My heart pounds in my chest. “You said we.”
“What?” She eats the basil and mozzarella ball from her skewer.
“You said we could skip the French truck.” I brush a curl back from her face.
She’s wearing it all down today for the formal event, and while she looks amazing, I miss the scarves in her hair.
It feels like a piece of her is missing.
A piece of the girl I’m falling hard and fast for.
“You thinking of our wedding already?” I shrug, playing it cool even though my heart is racing.
“I was thinking something more along the lines of taking you on a date when I get home.”
A blush climbs her cheeks. “I’d like that.”
She doesn’t say anything about the wedding, but she doesn’t have to. Her eyes say it all. They’re glowing and hopeful. And in them, I see our future.