Chapter 2 #2
If that wasn’t bad enough, the cherry on the top of her mortification was when one of the straps on her dress snapped at the back during the ceremony, the tension so tight, it flicked over her shoulder with force, whipping her nipple hard before dangling uselessly.
The other one held, but she’d squeaked in surprised pain.
She hadn’t looked at him after that.
They’d done a quick fix, using a safety pin, for the photos, then made their way to the reception venue.
Rusty had driven with Reid, and Piper had tagged along.
After their moment in Cole’s car, she thought it best to keep her distance.
The man drew her like a bear to honey. It would be so easy to get caught up, to let her feelings for him run away all over again.
Which would be a huge mistake, because it didn’t matter how much she wanted him. He didn’t feel the same way.
He’d made that clear time and again.
Piper sat forward in her seat and lifted her glass of champagne, smiling as one of Deke’s friends toasted the happy couple, ending the speeches.
“May I have the bride and groom on the floor for their first dance?” the MC said into his microphone.
Everyone cheered as her brother took his new bride’s hand and led her to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.
Deke spun Alex around, making her laugh, then dipped her for a long, slow, intimate kiss.
They were so wrapped up in each other Piper didn’t think they were aware of anyone else, let alone the cat calls and whistles filling the room.
God, she wanted that. Would she ever find that one special person?
Someone to spend the rest of her life with?
With Rusty moving out to shack up with Reid, she’d been all on her own for the first time in her life.
But as bad as it sounded, she was enjoying it.
Her big brother and sister had made it their mission to look out for her over the years.
Closely. Ever since their mother took off when they were kids.
And they’d never stopped, even as she grew older.
Her brother especially. When their father died, it just got worse.
She understood Deke’s need to take care of them, but he didn’t seem to realize she’d grown up, that it was time to let go.
Their overprotectiveness made her feel as though they thought she couldn’t be trusted to make a decision on her own. She was over it.
Okay, yeah, she could admit she’d made a couple of bad choices where men were concerned, but that was only because she’d spent half her life trying to get over Cole freaking Black. Which was ridiculous, and more than a little pathetic, since he hadn’t ever seen her that way.
Well, she was over him. Okay, almost over him. But the best way to get over someone was to find someone else, right? It was a well-known fact. It was also a theory she had every intention of testing. This was her time to get crazy, to have fun. And she planned to enjoy every minute of it.
“May I have the rest of the bridal party on the dance floor?” the MC called.
Rusty and the other groomsman hit the floor, which left just her and Cole sitting at the table. The guy had visibly paled, lips thinned, expression grim, back and shoulders so stiff he looked cut from stone.
That excited to dance with me, huh?
It looked like they were just going to sit at opposite ends of the table and pretend they weren’t the only ones in the bridal party not dancing. Neat-o. That wasn’t embarrassing at all.
But then she felt rather than saw him turn to her, tingles dancing across her bare shoulders.
She twisted in her seat to face him. Cole stared back, then stood suddenly and started toward her.
In that moment his limp became more obvious, and she realized what his hesitation had been about.
It had nothing to do with her. Why would it?
He was worried about dancing in front of all these people. Sympathy churned inside her, but she kept her expression wiped clean. That was the last thing he wanted.
When he reached her, he extended his hand.
The urge to tell him not to worry, that they could sit this one out was on the tip of her tongue.
But she somehow knew her refusal would batter his damaged pride more than struggling through the dance with him would.
So she took his outstretched hand and smiled up at him.
Despite their currently strained relationship, she’d do anything for Cole.
He was a good man. A man who’d been through hell and back.
He was also her brother’s best friend, someone she’d known most of her life.
He needed her support, not her petty feelings of rejection—not when those feelings were hers alone.
He hadn’t actually done anything. His biggest crime against her was not wanting her back.
As they walked out the song ended, changing to one with a slightly faster tempo. Piper inwardly winced as the other guys started spinning their partners around the floor. She glanced up at Cole. Her tough ex-cop looked stricken, cheeks darkening.
Shit.
With her only thought to ease his embarrassment, she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around his neck, so her body was flush with his, like they were a couple and this was the most natural thing in the world.
He stiffened, staring down at her, gaze searching hers for several painful seconds.
She couldn’t read his expression, but for a split-second she thought he might actually push her away.
But then he lifted his arms, sliding them around her waist, causing a delicious tingling sensation wherever he touched.
They didn’t speak, just held each other and began to sway to the music.
She tried to disconnect, tried not to think about how good it felt to be pressed up against him, but the heat of his palms penetrated the thin fabric of her gown, and whenever he moved his hand she could feel the roughness of his skin snagging on the delicate material.
It sent a tremor across the surface of her skin, making her acutely aware of every move he made—the way his fingers flexed almost restlessly against her back, the way his chest expanded with every inhale, how for just a second it forced them even closer.
The man felt amazing, hard all over, and the more she focused on the parts of their bodies that touched, the faster her pulse raced, and the hotter her skin became.
His breathing had grown heavy, and then his arms tightened, pulling her closer. Without thinking, she rested her head against the hard planes of his chest and listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart picking up speed.
Suddenly she was sixteen again, standing on the veranda of the cottage, tears streaming down her face after the school dance.
Not one boy had asked her to dance, and one of the girls had pointed it out, telling her it was because she was fat.
Cole had been leaving their house when she’d gotten home.
He’d taken one look at her, pulled her into his arms…
and started swaying. They’d stayed like that for a long time. Until long after she’d stopped crying.
Finally he’d kissed the top of her head, told her she was beautiful, and left.
As the music wound down, he loosened his hold, distancing himself slightly, and the memory vanished, pulling her back to the present.
Puffs of his warm breath danced across her hair and cheek, and she had to fight not to burrow deeper, not to cling tighter. Not to make a total fool of herself.
He stared down at her, and she stared back, locked in place and quietly freaking out. His heated look surprised the hell out of her. They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, so long she started to think he might actually kiss her.
But then the next song began, and the remaining guests came out to join them on the dance floor.
Cole cleared his throat and frowned. “Looks like I have to thank you again.”
“For what? We were supposed to dance.” She shrugged with a carelessness she didn’t feel. “We danced.”
His frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything, instead he placed a hand at her lower back and steered her to the table. Flustered, she started to walk away when they got to her seat, needing a moment alone, needing some space to clear her head.
But Cole wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and pulled her to a stop. “You’re certainly going above and beyond today. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that.”
It was impossible to miss the bitterness twisting his expression. “Suffer?”
The scarred skin by his mouth puckered slightly. “Dancing with the cripple.” She flinched, but he shook his head and laughed, the sound humorless. “I don’t want your goddamn pity, Piper. I’d rather you go back to hating my guts.”
What in the hell? “I don’t hate you.”
His eyes flashed, going from ice to searing heat in a split second. “No?”
“Of course not.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Shit, just forget it.”
No, the guy didn’t want her pity. She got that. She did. But he was making assumptions, assuming he knew the way she felt, what she was thinking. And he was way off base.
Still, she found the urge to reassure him outweighed her need to tell him off for feeling sorry for himself, for thinking so little of her.
Grabbing his tie, she tugged him closer, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “I danced with you so I could feel you up. Rusty wasn’t wrong, you look hot in that suit.”
He jerked back and blinked down at her. “Piper…”
Before he ruined everything by opening his big fat mouth and saying something to piss her off, she winked. “Have a good night.” Then she spun on her heels and walked away.
Not surprisingly, he kept his distance after that.
Piper washed her hands and looked in the mirror.
With all the running about making sure everything stayed on schedule during the reception, followed by hitting the dance floor, her unruly blond waves had broken free of most of the pins the hair stylist had painstakingly put in that morning, so she pulled out the rest, leaving it down.
Her makeup wasn’t looking that great, either.
She applied more lipstick, then checked the safety pin holding the broken strap of her dress in place.
It was late, and her feet hurt from her heels.
Alex and Deke had left a few minutes ago, and Rusty and Reid were in full-on make-out mode on the dance floor.
If she could pull them off each other long enough, she could beg a ride home.
The party was still in full swing. She should be out there enjoying herself, but she just wanted to go home.
Her encounters with Cole had thrown her off balance, and if she wasn’t thinking about him and his odd behavior, she was thinking about the 1962 Chevy Nova she’d bought last week.
The body was in rough shape. It’d need new custom panels made and the engine required a full re-build.
She was dying to get her hands on it. Ever since her father died and she, Rusty, and Alex took over the shop, she’d spent most of her time in the office, making sure their business continued to grow and expand.
When she wasn’t in the office, she was doing jobs that were far from challenging.
Alex and Rusty did all the restoration work now, while Piper got stuck with the late-model cars that came in.
Oil changes, hose replacements, weird sounds coming from under the hood.
Those jobs were just as important to their business, but Piper wanted to work on classic cars.
She wanted to make new panels, re-build engines that were older than her and make them purr.
Alex and Rusty had lost faith in her ability, or maybe they’d never believed she had it in the first place.
Oh, they knew she was a good mechanic, and they hadn’t out and out said it to her, they never would, but it was obvious.
She intended to show them how wrong they were when she unveiled the Chevy.
She’d prove to them exactly what she could do, that she was every bit as good as them.
More guilt assaulted her, she felt terrible thinking that way, but what else could she do?
Her brother and sister, even Alex, they had her best interests at heart, thought they were helping when they got involved in her life, or stepped in her path completely in order to “save” her from herself.
But they were stifling her, showing her they didn’t believe she could make decisions for herself.
She didn’t know how to tell them how she felt.
Their overprotectiveness made her feel inadequate, incapable, and sometimes just plain hurt.
So she’d have to show them.
Sighing, she pushed the door open and left the bathroom. It was just outside the main reception room, and someone coming the other way bumped into her as she rounded the corner. Her purse slipped from her fingers and skated across the floor. “Crap.”
She chased it, bending to pick it up, but as she leaned forward the tension over her shoulders from the gown’s thin straps pulled unbearably tight.
She quickly stood, but it was too late. The straps suddenly gave, both of them, and the whole top half of her dress peeled down her body like a banana skin, only stopping when it caught on the flare of her hips.
Oh God! Noooo.
She tried to yank it back up, but the zipper was rolled up in the fabric at her back.
There was no way she could get it back over her boobs without undoing the zipper first. Folding her arms over her bare chest, she made a dash for the bathroom, but when she tried the door handle it wouldn’t open.
The person who bumped into her must have slipped in after her.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She couldn’t stay out here, where anyone could walk out and find her. She searched for somewhere to hide.
There was only one option.
Keeping her arms tight around herself, she made a dash for the men’s room.