Chapter Six
Six
Tegan
It was a beautiful early-fall day. Clear blue skies, a light breeze, the last rays of the summer sun warming my skin.
Perfect for a wedding.
My wedding.
I was standing on the church steps, wearing the dress of my dreams. A vintage cream-colored gown that hugged my body in all the right places.
Clenched between my sweaty palms was a bouquet of all my favorite flowers. They were fresh and fragrant, like I’d plucked them from my own garden for this very special day.
Behind the heavy church doors, the organ groaned and the bridal march began to play. I stared down at my feet, taking a steadying breath before walking inside.
The church was packed to the eaves with rows and rows of Briar Glenn residents. Everyone lining the pews whipped their heads around to watch me stroll down the aisle, but their faces were a blur—I only had eyes for him.
At the end of the aisle, dressed in a perfectly tailored gray suit—
A round of applause erupted around me, and my mother nudged my shoulder, urging me to join in.
“Oh my gods,” I murmured, shaking off the fantasy that had so easily slipped into my mind. I hadn’t realized I was so desperate to get married that I’d fantasize about it at someone else’s wedding.
Mr. and Mrs. Costas had just cut the cake—a two-layered one, not the massive three-layered one we planned—and I had spaced out for the entire thing. As the baker of such an important cake, I should have been proud. Invested. But I was too preoccupied to care.
“The cake looks lovely,” my mom said sincerely. “Great job, honey.”
I took a sip of my mocktail, recalling the interesting string of events leading up to this moment. “I’m just glad we have the sheet cake. It wouldn’t have been enough to feed all these guests if we didn’t.”
Scanning the reception hall, I took stock of who was in attendance, because I’d have to make my rounds at some point.
There was Brian, the owner of the Busy Bean, the only coffee shop in Briar Glenn.
Spencer and her mom Daria, the owner of the Briar Glenn Bookshop.
My centaur neighbors stood at one of the high-top tables, happily chatting while they ate their cake, and I laughed to myself, remembering Declan’s suggestion of becoming their third.
That’s when someone tucked into a table at the very back of the hall caught my eye.
Even with the low lighting, his massive body was hard to miss.
It was Atlas.
He was dressed in a deep gray suit that matched the color of his fur. It looked like it was custom tailored for him, perfectly fitted to accommodate his broad shoulders and burly arms. He was hot in workout clothes, but in a suit? He was stunning.
And I was going to talk to him.
I snatched my clutch from the table, pulling out my compact to give my makeup a once-over before scooching back from the table.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked.
“He’s here, Mom.”
She cocked her head. “Honey, half of Briar Glenn is here. I’m gonna need a little more than that.”
“The guy who helped me clean up the cake,” I hissed. “The wolven.”
“Where?” Her eyes lit up and she searched the room like her head was on a swivel.
“Way to be obvious.” I tipped my head in his direction. “He’s over there.”
She pushed her glasses up her nose, staring right where he was seated. Pamela Rollins was many things, but discreet wasn’t one of them. “Oh, Tegan. He is a total hottie.”
“I told you!” I mean, those weren’t my exact words, but she wasn’t wrong.
“And he’s sitting all by himself,” she said dejectedly, still staring in Atlas’s direction. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. “You should go talk to him.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“She should go talk to who?” My brother, Reece, joined us at the table.
“It’s none of your business,” I snapped.
Reece’s light red brows drew back. Like me and my mother, he was on the ginger spectrum. “Excuse me? As your big brother, it is my business.”
Before I could stab my brother with a fork, Mom chimed in. “Tegan met someone. He helped her clean up the wedding cake she dropped this morning.”
“You dropped the cake?” The way Reece said it was a little too judgy for my liking. Like how he’d reacted when I got a C+ in phys ed my sophomore year at Briar Glenn High.
“It was heavy, and Selene wasn’t there to help me,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“You should really start working out,” Reece said, taking a big bite of his cake. My brother was the poster boy for physical fitness. Biking, running, rock climbing. He practically lived for exercise. But he also had an intense sweet tooth. “So, what’s his deal?”
“He owns that new gym on Main Street,” I said.
“You know, in the old rec center where you and Tegan used to take swimming lessons,” Mom added.
“Hmph,” Reece grumbled around a mouthful of cake.
In his eyes, no one would ever be good enough for me, and it was clear he wasn’t impressed.
He was just going to have to suck it up, though.
I was a grown woman. I didn’t need—or want—my brother’s approval.
I stood and straightened my dress. “All right, I’m going now.”
“Attagirl, honey,” Mom said. “Make me proud.”
Before Reece could voice any more complaints, I started to make my way across the room to Atlas’s table.
He was still sitting by himself, so distracted by everything going on around him that he didn’t notice me approaching.
“Atlas?” I said, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Shit.
Now how was I going to explain that? Oh, hey, Atlas. You never told me your name, but I looked you up on the internet like the total stalker I am. Masturbated to a photo of you. Squirted all over my sheets. You know, the usual.
Blessed goddess, I was absolutely losing it.
“Oh!” His golden eyes widened and his muzzle scrunched into a smile. He seemed genuinely excited to see me. “Hey!”
“Hi.” I slipped my hand away, pointing at the empty seat next to him. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“No, not at all.” Like a gentleman, he slid the chair out for me. “I, uh, I realized I never got your name this morning,” he said bashfully, his ears drooping slightly on either side of his head.
Fucking adorable.
“Tegan,” I said, a little too enthusiastically. “I’m Tegan.” I held out my palm and his giant hand enveloped mine, giving it a soft shake.
“Tegan,” he said with a hum. The way my name sounded, rumbling out of his chest, made my stomach flip. “That’s a very pretty name.”
I could feel all the blood rush to my face and I’m pretty sure I looked like a walking, talking tomato. “Thank you,” I forced out.
A+ flirting game, Teg.
“I’m Atlas, but it sounds like you already knew that.” He grinned and his bright yellow eyes twinkled as he looked down at me.
“I, um, I might have looked you up. Looked the gym up,” I rushed to add. “I remembered your tank top and looked up the gym.” Ha, I certainly did remember his tank top and the way it clung to his pecs. I’m pretty sure I could see his nipples peeking through the material.
He nodded and his upper canine dug into his bottom lip. “Ah, I see.” Damn, he was smug.
Was it just my imagination or was he flirting with me just now?
I looked around at the empty table, wondering if everyone had jumped ship because he was the new guy in town, when I noticed the place card in front of me.
Mr. Oberon’s Guest.
Was he here with someone?
“Did you bring a date?” I asked, feeling bold.
Maybe he did but they were in the bathroom? Or they were mingling? There was no way a guy like him was here by—
He shook his head, that canine digging deeper into his lip like he was fighting back a grin. “No date.”
“Me, neither.” I wanted him to know that I was here alone, hoping it would convey the fact that I was single.
“If I’m being honest with you,” he said, “I’m not a huge fan of weddings. I wasn’t going to come, but I figured it would look bad if I didn’t. The mayor invited me personally.”
“Hmm,” I said, looking through the crowd for the mayor.
When I spotted him, he was nursing an amber drink, likely a glass of bourbon, engaged in a lively conversation with the high school football coach.
He was having the time of his life, enjoying his daughter’s special day.
The last thing on his mind was the guest list. “Looks to me like he’s a little too preoccupied to keep tabs on who showed up and who didn’t. ”
“Apparently so. Can’t say I regret coming, though.” The way his gaze swept over my body, slow and shameless, had heat rushing to my face again.
“I don’t regret coming, either,” I admitted. Not now, and not earlier.
“Are you going to eat your cake?” I asked, noticing the untouched slice sitting in front of him.
“Well, I demolished a box of cupcakes someone gave me, so I’m trying to watch my weight.”
I looked him up and down, making him shift in his seat. Two could play that game. “You look just fine to me.”
“You really think so?” There was nothing sarcastic about the way he asked. He seemed genuinely unsure of how good he looked in his suit.
“Absolutely. Now eat some of your cake,” I told him. “Didn’t you say cream cheese is your favorite?”
He picked up his fork, shoveled a big bite into his mouth, and nodded.
The lights dimmed and the DJ’s voice filled the reception hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together and welcome the newlyweds, Jessica and Todd, to the dance floor to share their first dance as husband and wife.”
They shuffled onto the dance floor, the groom’s hooves tapping against the floor as they slow-danced to some popular yet cliché Ed Sheeran song about falling in love.
“They look happy,” I said, with only a teeny tiny bit of jealousy. Someday it would be my chance.
“Yeah.” Atlas sighed. “They do.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he’d ever given any thought to marriage, but I decided against it because wow, what an insane question to ask someone you’d just met.
The song faded out, the newlyweds ending their dance number with a romantic kiss that made the hall erupt with applause and wolf whistles.
“What a beautiful first dance,” the DJ said over the loudspeaker. “Now Mr. and Mrs. Costas would like to invite you onto the dance floor to celebrate with them.”
A horn sounded three times, followed by a remix of a song I used to dance around my room to in high school. It had to be one of Jessica’s picks.
I leaned against Atlas’s shoulder to whisper in his ear, “I used to love this song.”
“Same. It was the intro song for my high school football team.”
“How old are you?” I asked. We had to be around the same age.
“Thirty-two,” he said, scrunching up his muzzle. “I’m getting old.”
“I just turned thirty.” In my eyes, a two-year age gap was perfect. “Do you want to dance?” I asked.
Would it even be possible for him to dance with how his suit was straining at the seams?
His ears drooped. “I, uh, I’m not much of a dancer.”
Oh my gods, he was so cute. My heart was going to burst just by looking at him.
“Come on,” I said, scooting out of my chair and holding my hand out to him. “It’ll be fun. And I’ll give you all the details about everyone in town.”