11. Andrea
Had I really just bleated at People Magazine’s sexiest man of the year?
Yes, yes I had.
That was one dorky fist bump and one humiliating “baa.” Someday perhaps it would be a funny story, but meanwhile I could feel my face burning red.
“What is a calming goat exactly?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “Racehorses are known to spook easily, so sometimes they introduce them to goats since the goats can calm them.” How I knew this, I couldn’t remember, but he nodded sagely as if absorbing the information for future use.
Do not baa again at the man. Do not baa again.
Perhaps I was the one who needed the calming goat because I had felt my temperature rising ever since he’d taken my hand after returning from the bridal suite, and now it was only getting worse with this ridiculous word salad I was serving up. Needless to say, my anxiety was spiking into unknown territory.
He rubbed his thumb on the inside of my wrist, causing shivers to snake down my spine. “Sounds like the goats could complement your mini cows.”
People started to take their seats around us, giving me a reprieve from any further goat conversation.
A quartet of string instruments to the left started to play, and the seats began to fill. An older woman with chic, short blond hair was led down the aisle by a man in a suit who must have been her husband. Given her stunning blue eyes, there was no doubt she was Deacon’s mother.
As if confirming this hypothesis, she flashed a beaming smile in the direction of her son and took a seat in the front row in front of us beside her husband. Next came the men in traditional black-and-white tuxes who took up positions to the sides of the officiant, who stood in the center of an elevated stage.
My gaze focused on the groom. Bryce was a decent-looking man, but couldn’t have been more the opposite of Deacon. It was as if one was the sexy bad boy, and the other was his clean-cut, drive-a-Toyota-Prius accountant.
We all got to our feet once the wedding march started to play. The bride began the walk down the aisle with an older man in a tux who must have been her father. She was stunning. As in grace-a-magazine-cover stunning, with her tall, statuesque frame and long blond hair curled down her back. Take a Barbie bride doll, and she was a dead ringer.
The besotted groom lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when he laid eyes on her. I felt a stab of empathy for the guy given he had no clue that just minutes ago she’d been ready to call the entire thing off if Deacon had only said the word.
Watching this love triangle unfold in real time left me feeling sad for him and angry at her. No one deserved to be made a fool of.
Deacon, as if sensing my mood shift, squeezed my hand in support. We seated ourselves again, and I didn’t miss the way Nina’s gaze swung to us, immediately laser-focused in on Deacon, and flicked to me and down to where our hands were joined. Even from twenty feet away, I could feel the flames of jealousy.
Then she appeared to remember this was her wedding, and she should concentrate on the man she was about to marry. She refocused and pasted on a smile.
I’d never attended a more excruciating ceremony. Not that it was long if measured by the clock, but the feeling of watching a man about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life slowed the minutes. Or perhaps what made it feel tense was wondering if at any moment she’d bolt.
Once it was over, I let out a long breath. As the newly dubbed husband and wife walked down the aisle, Bryce looked as though he’d won the biggest prize, and Nina appeared annoyed that Deacon hadn’t stood up and shouted “objection.”
“That was painful,” Deacon whispered under his breath so only I could hear.
He could say that again.
Around us, people began to stand up. Deacon’s mom turned around and smiled at her son. “So happy you’re here.”
He leaned in and gave her a hug. “Nice to see you.”
After pulling back, he made introductions. “Andrea, this is my mom, Vivian, and her husband, Rob.”
They both flashed warm smiles my way.
“Nice to meet you both.”
“You as well— Oh, we’re being summoned for photos.” She paused. “Don’t suppose you want to do some family pics?”
Deacon chuckled. “Not a chance, but I’ll find you at the reception, and we’ll ensure we get one together.”
She seemed satisfied with his compromise. “Deal. See you both in a bit.”
As people started to file out of the rows and into the beautiful reception hall, Deacon took my hand and pulled me down a different hallway where we could be alone.
“You look ready either for a drink or to bolt,” I remarked.
His smile came quickly. “Both would be fantastic, but we’ll settle on the drink, a picture with my mother, a quick meal, and then we can split if that’s all right with you?”
The way he always checked to see how I felt about things was endearing. “I’m here for you tonight for however long you wish to stay.”
“Thank you.” He took a deep breath before offering his arm.
The indoor reception hall was beautifully decorated in white and silver. The result was both elegant and sophisticated. I could only imagine what an extravagant wedding like this must have cost.
We were greeted by black-tie servers who proffered trays of appetizers and champagne to the guests who milled around while the bridal party took photos outside. It was cute how people wanted to meet Deacon and say hello without being obvious or making him uncomfortable.
Deacon was gracious and took the time to introduce me as his date to everyone he spoke with. I witnessed the curious glances in my direction, making it clear they all wondered who I was and the status of our relationship. My date kept his hand in mine or at the small of my back, the perfect gentleman at all times.
When the main doors opened and the bridal party came in, the DJ started spinning music. As the bride and groom made their entrance, I was once again struck by the contrast in their facial expressions. He exuded joy and happiness while she wore a guarded smile. There was no mistaking the way Nina surveyed the room until her eyes collided with Deacon.
Her chin lifted, and her shoulders squared.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bride look quite so, uh, determined,” I whispered to him. To do what, I wasn’t sure. Make Deacon jealous, seem happy, appear as though she didn’t care she’d been rejected? It was like watching a reaction roulette wheel and wondering which emotion it would land on.
“I’m hoping to get out of here without having to speak to her again.”
Considering the evil side eye she was giving us, I’d say that possibility was a big fat no.
Luckily we were seated with Deacon’s mom and stepfather, making it easy to take photos and have comfortable conversation while the food was being served. At least up until the point his mom asked what should have been a simple question.
“How did you two meet?”
Deacon took my hand under the table which was quickly becoming a habit.
“We share the same PR rep. When he took her to my last concert, I pulled her up on stage and kissed her in front of thousands of chanting fans. Afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about her and kept pestering her until she agreed to go out with me. Now here we are.”
My mouth nearly hung open before I remembered to play my part, gulping a swallow of wine and smiling at his explanation.
“Nice to see you doing the chasing for once,” Vivian quipped with a wink. “Are you still planning to leave for Australia on Monday?” She sounded hopeful he might stay local.
“I am.”
He gave no further explanation for his impending departure. While I was relieved he wasn’t expanding on the lie, I did feel disappointed at this reminder that I’d never see him again.
Actually, scratch that. I’d see him plenty. On television, in ads, and on covers of magazines, but I wasn’t delusional enough to believe we’d stay in touch.
After a delicious meal of salmon and risotto, the DJ announced that it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance.
Meanwhile, a large man in an all-black suit and wearing an earpiece came up to have some words with Deacon.
He sighed as the man walked away. “Evidently, we’re here for a while longer. Security is handling some overzealous photogs who jumped the fence.”
“Sorry.” I knew he was anxious to leave.
Others had now joined the dance floor. At the start of the second slow song, Deacon tugged on my hand. “The delay could have one benefit. Dance with me?”
Had any woman ever said no to such an invitation? “I’d love to.”
I could thank my mother for ten years of dance classes so that I could now avoid stepping on Deacon’s toes. Being in his arms left me with a floaty, tingling feeling.
After a couple minutes, he asked, “How would you sum up the evening thus far?” A smirk played on his lips.
My gaze slid to my left, where the bride was throwing daggers at my profile. “Your mom is lovely, your stepfather seems nice, and yes, obsessed with barbeque. I feel bad for your stepbrother, dislike the bride despite never having shared a word with her, oh, and the salmon with risotto was tasty.”
He threw his head back with laughter, the action causing more attention to focus on us. “I can’t begin to thank you enough for coming tonight. You were the bright spot.”
It was amazing how comfortable I’d become with Deacon and how well we were getting along. Perhaps there was something to be said for having clear expectations regarding what this was and, more importantly, what it wasn’t. “You’re welcome. Oh, and incoming.”
“Fucking hell,” he muttered. With the song over, the bride and groom were making a beeline toward us.
“Hi, Deacon. Thanks for coming today,” greeted Bryce, offering his hand to shake.
“Congratulations to you both. It was a beautiful wedding. Let me introduce you. This is Andrea?—”
“I was telling Bryce how we spoke before the wedding,” Nina interrupted, as if no one needed to know who I was.
Deacon wasn’t having it. “As I was saying, this is Andrea. Andrea, this is Bryce and his wife, Nina.”
The way he emphasized his familiarity with Bryce and not Nina was an intentional nuance. “Nice to meet you both,” I offered.
By the clench of Nina’s jaw, the feeling was definitely not mutual.
“You as well, Andrea,” Bryce said graciously.
I didn’t miss the way Deacon tightened his arm around my waist.
Nina wasn’t done with the subject she wanted front and center. “Like I said, Deacon came back to see me before the wedding.”
Deacon didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, evidently there was a mix-up when one of the bridesmaids took me to see you instead of to my mother. But luckily Andrea didn’t have to wait long for me to return.” He smoothed his hand up and down my waist as if to remind his ex of who he was with.
Since her multiple attempts to cause drama had failed, Nina turned to me with a new tactic, venom dripping from her words. “You look familiar, Amanda. Aren’t you that reality star’s wife who was cheated on?”
Deacon was about to speak, but I gripped his hand. “My name is Andrea, and yes, we’re separated due to his infidelity which is definitely not a topic to bring up during a joyous occasion. Congratulations to you two. Beautiful wedding.”
Deacon was done with the small talk. “Glad we were able to catch you both before leaving.”
“You’re leaving? The cake isn’t cut yet.” Nina sounded almost desperate.
“Yes, apologies, but Andrea and I have limited time together before I leave on Monday, so you understand.”
Nina narrowed her eyes and feigned empathy, addressing me. “Don’t take it personally when Deacon doesn’t invite you to his Australian retreat. He’s only invited one of his loves to his special place in all the years he’s been living there.”
In other words: he’d taken her there.
Deacon stiffened. “Actually, Andrea is joining me there in a few weeks.”
Say what now? It was obvious by the way she recoiled that his intention had been to serve notice she’d been replaced. I’d have felt sorry for her if not for the brand-new wedding ring on her left hand.
“With all that he’s shared with me about the place, I’m excited to see it in person,” I squeaked out, trying to go with the flow of this blatant lie.
“How exciting for you both. Thanks again for coming, Deacon. It was lovely to meet you, Andrea.” Bryce took his bride’s arm. “Shall we greet the other guests?”
For a moment I thought Nina might shake off her new husband and make a scene. But it was as if she realized she’d lost this battle. The real question was whether or not she was ready to concede the war.
“Yes, of course. Thank you both for coming.”
As soon as they turned, Deacon wasted no time. He led me over to say his goodbyes to his mom and stepfather, paused for a couple photos with some of the other attendees, before he practically jogged me out to the parking lot. He nodded at his security team to indicate he would no longer wait for the rogue photographers to be rounded up.
In my high heels, I was unable to keep up. As if finally noticing, he came to a halt. “Shit, I’m sorry, Andi.”
My screaming feet made me wince. “It’s all right.”
“It really isn’t.” In an unexpected move, he swept me off my feet and into his arms, striding the last few feet toward the valet. Deacon handed him the ticket as if it was perfectly normal to be balancing a grown woman while doing so. “Better?”
For my feet, yes. For my attraction to him, not at all. “You don’t have to carry me.”
Oh, sweet baby mini cows, he dropped his face and nuzzled my neck. The sensation of his scruff hit my sensitive skin and sent a shiver down my spine.
I closed my eyes and lost all concept of space and time—until the moment was interrupted with the sound of click, click, click.
Deacon put me down gently, and we turned to see the photog about twenty feet away. Having gotten his pic, the dude waved and jogged down the private drive he’d snuck up for the intrusive photos.
“Guessing that’ll be in the tabloids by tomorrow.” Taking out his billfold, he tipped the guy who brought around his car. I slid into the passenger side, thanking Deacon for holding the door.
We were quiet as we drove away.