5. Bailey
As I splayedmy hands flat on the silver penny-tiled floor, I couldn’t help but think of the TikTok trend, ‘I’m a fill-in-the-blank; of course I fill-in-the-blank.’
“I’m a wedding planner; of course I get on my hands and knees in the bathroom to find an heirloom diamond earring,” I whispered to myself.
It was times like these that made me wonder if expanding Bliss Bridal to include day-of coordination was really the right decision. With the boom of online shopping, small bridal boutiques had taken a hit—not as much as some retailers, because, thankfully, brides still wanted to come in and try on dresses. But, to be honest, that was always where Birdie shined. From designing her own dresses to knowing the perfect silhouette for any shape, my youngest sister was a master at bridal fashion.
She was the artistic heartbeat of Bliss Bridal. Billie was the brains. She handled all the marketing and finances. She’d completely revamped our websites and ads, rebranding us as an upscale boutique with personalized service.
For the first year or so we took over, I hadn’t really known my place in the business. But then Billie pointed out how much I loved throwing parties and event planning and how good I was at dealing with hysterical or unreasonable people, and she suggested that Bliss Bridal Boutique become a one-stop shop for all your bridal needs.
And thus, my days as a wedding coordinator were born.
My hands were running over the shiny metallic surface when I heard someone walking in the room. I looked up, and he was there. The mystery man I’d seen at half a dozen weddings had just walked into the bathroom. I was so shocked to see him that my brain didn’t process the door closing behind him.
“Don’t close the—” Before I was able to finish my sentence, the door slammed shut. “—door.”
I looked up and locked eyes with my not-work-crush. He stared down, blinking at me in disbelief. Without acknowledging me, he turned back around and started twisting the handle. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“It sticks,” I explained as he pulled and pushed it.
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t believe me because he turned it hard again and rammed his shoulder into it.
“It’s stuck. We’re stuck. Literally. It locks from the inside. Maintenance warned me about it,” I explained as a woodsy sandalwood scent teased my senses. If ‘Sexy Man’ could be bottled and sold as a cologne, that was its scent. I inhaled and felt tingles spread through my body.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he turned back around, totally oblivious to my aroma arousal. When he looked down at me once again, there was concern in his expression. “Are you…sick?”
“What? No.”
Did I look sick? I hadn’t been sleeping much for the past two weeks since I’d gotten the message from Simon. Was it catching up with me? I’d worn this shirt with this man in mind, and the first thing he’d asked me was if I was sick.
“Oh…okay.” A crease appeared between his brows as he continued looking down at me.
The expression on his face made me realize I was on my knees next to the toilet. “Oh, no, um, the bride lost her grandmother’s diamond earring, so I’m looking for it.”
“Is that in your job description?”
“Sort of. Yeah. I mean, my job is to make the bride’s day go as smoothly and perfectly as possible. So, yeah.” Speaking of which, I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I was stuck up here. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and sent an SOS text to Billie, then set the device on the edge of the sink. “I texted my sister; she’ll come rescue us.”
He nodded and started to lower himself to the floor. “What does the earring look like?”
“Oh, no!” I rushed out. “You don’t have to do that! It’s definitely not in your job description.”
His eyes met mine, and he looked like a kid who got caught sneaking in after curfew. It made me wonder if he was here on a job. Could Trevor be right that the bride’s sister had hired him to be here?
As those questions were still running through my mind, he smiled, and my mind went blank when I saw a deep dimple in his left cheek. It wasn’t just the dimple that had my lady parts singing; it was the smile itself. His smile was so potent, I had a feeling I could get drunk off it if I stared at him long enough.
“I don’t mind.”
When he spoke, my eyes were drawn to his lips. His perfect, straight lips. How had I never noticed how kissable his lips were? I wondered what those lips would feel like brushing against mine. What would they feel like whispering sweet nothings against my neck? What would they feel like pressed softly to my…
“What does it look like?” he asked.
“What?” I asked, not sure what he was referring to.
My eyes lifted to his, and once again, I found myself stunned. From afar, his eyes were crystal blue, but up close, they were even clearer. They reminded me of the ocean—not the Pacific, which the San Francisco Bay emptied out into, but the Amalfi Coast—at least what I’d seen in pictures—pictures that Simon had posted during his many travels.
“The earring. What does it look like?”
I blinked, just to force myself to stop staring into the depths of his gaze before I drowned. “Oh, right, um, it’s a diamond stud.”
When I said the word stud, I felt my cheeks flush, even though I hadn’t been referring to him. Although, he was a stud if I’ve ever seen one, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a very young stud. His age had never really been something I’d considered. But now, after seeing him up close, I realized he was young. Really young.
I was considering asking him how old he was when my phone rang out loudly. I jumped with a start and reached up to grab it. My fingers grazed the side, and I ended up knocking it off the sink. It would have crashed to the floor if it weren’t for the cat-like reflexes of dimpled pretty boy.
The phone landed safely in his palm. His very large palm. Oh my. As he held my phone, I couldn’t help but notice the size of his hands. They were massive. And they looked like they’d feel good sliding up my thigh…
What?No. Stop it; I reprimanded myself.
He glanced down at the screen, and when he did, I saw his mouth twitch in amusement. I looked down and knew why. Simon was calling, but his name was saved under ‘Do NOT Answer.’ Billie had changed it a few months after the last time Simon Houdini’d, which was what Olivia called it when he disappeared. Like I said, they were not fans.
As he handed me the phone, dimpled pretty boy’s panty-melting smile was still in place. “I’m not sure you should answer that.”
“Oh, no, yeah, it’s just…a friend.” I didn’t know why I was explaining myself. For one thing, he hadn’t asked. And even if he had, it was none of his business.
He turned his attention back to the ground, and as I waited with bated breath to see if Simon was going to leave a message. I was still staring down at my device when Dimples announced, “Found it.”
I looked up, and sure enough, he had the earring in his hand.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you,” I stated as we both stood, and he handed the stud to me. I looked down as he dropped it into my cupped palm. The roughened tips of his fingers grazed my wrist. The barely-there sensation fanned the flames of arousal that were already burning like a wildfire from being in such close proximity to a man who might smell better than he looked, or at least as good.
My head was still tilted down for fear I’d say something stupid if I looked into his ocean-like eyes again when I felt those same fingertips graze my cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. The touch was so tender and intimate that my knees went weak, and I felt a tickle in my nose.
No, no, no.I flared out my nostrils, doing everything I could to keep my sneeze at bay as I slid the earring into my pocket.
“Do you have green eyes?”
His question took me by surprise and worked its magic to hold back my face explosion. I blinked up at him. He was staring right at me, so he had to know what color my eyes were. Was this some sort of pickup line, or something?
I grinned. “Last time I checked.”
“And blonde hair?” he questioned as his fingers slid through the strands.
“Yeah.” If this was a pickup line, it was a strange one.
“Sorry.” He dropped his hand to his side. “I was only asking because I’m color blind.”
“You’re color blind?” Again, that was not what I’d expected him to say.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never met anyone who was color blind.”
His mouth curled in a cocky, bad-boy half-grin that had my stomach doing more flips than a politician on the campaign trail. Holy moly, this man had quite the effect on me. I’d thought he was dangerous from fifty yards away, but up close and personal, he was deadly.
“Have we met?” he questioned. “Officially?”
“No. I guess not. I’m Bailey. Bailey Bliss.”
“Bailey Bliss,” he repeated my name, almost in a whisper, as if it were reverent before he held out his hand. “Hi Bailey, I’m CJ, or, um, I’m Cole. Cole.”
“Cole.” As I placed my hand in his, I heard myself repeating his name with the same reverence he’d used to say mine. The moment my fingers slid against the warmth of his palm, my entire body tingled from the innocent contact.
Trying to disguise or at least deflect my reaction to him, I cleared my throat and asked, “If you’re color blind, how did you know I had blonde hair and green eyes?”
His eyes darkened, and I felt a tickle in my nose again. Before I could stop it, I sneezed. Loudly. I covered my mouth with the hand he was not holding. Cole spoke at the same time as my face exploded.
“It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but…”
All of that was happening as the door opened, and Billie walked in, cutting off his sentence. The interruption left me on the edge of my emotional seat, wondering what was embarrassing. My sister looked surprised to see that I wasn’t alone in the bathroom. That made two of us.
“Got your text.” She held up her phone in the way of evidence.
I pulled my hand out of Cole’s. Now, I was the one who felt like I’d been caught sneaking in after curfew. “Great, thanks.”
Cole politely grinned at her and then looked back at me as he reached behind him and produced a handkerchief from his back pocket, then handed it to me. “It was nice to meet you, Bailey.”
“You, too, Cole.”
He smiled once more at Billie as he walked past her and out the door. She watched him go and then looked back at me, clearly wanting answers.
“We found it.” I pulled the earring out of my pocket.
“That’s not all you found.” She grinned as she looked down at the handkerchief I was holding. “You sneezed.” Her tone was that of accusation.
Crap.I was hoping that she hadn’t heard that.
“Allergies.”
“The only thing you’re allergic to is getting turned on. You sneezed.”
If there was one thing in the world I regretted telling my sister, it was that I sneezed when I got aroused. I’d only confessed it to her because I was a teenager at the time, and I’d thought something was wrong with me. I still didn’t know why I did, but it didn’t change the fact that, for whatever reason, whenever my hormones were activated, they triggered my mucus membranes.
“Okay, fine. I sneezed.”
“That’s amazing!” she enthused.
“Why is it amazing?”
“Because you are attracted to him. When was the last time you sneezed?”
The last time I sneezed was nearly three years ago when Simon was in town. Speaking of Simon. He’d called. I looked down at my phone and saw he hadn’t left a message. I hadn’t taken the call I’d been waiting for because I was locked in the bathroom with Cole, my not-work crush. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.