Chapter 17
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Sullivan Crowne in a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt underneath was an image that would be seared into my brain forever. He stood just outside the church doors, relaxed, polished, and smiling.
That wasn’t a common expression of his, and the sight of it did something deeply inconvenient to my internal organs. It made me slow without meaning to, just to drag out the moment of seeing him look the way he did right now.
Honestly, he took my breath away for just a moment, those gorgeous blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed with someone he was greeting. All week, I’d been worried about this very moment.
I’d thought it might be awkward at best or that he might ignore me, which would’ve been the middle ground. At worst, I’d thought he might look at me like I’d imagined that kiss in his office or that the whole paper-gown fiasco had been a shared hallucination.
As I walked up the sidewalk, however, the silver-haired man he’d been talking to moved into the church and Sullivan looked up, that smile not fading when his gaze landed directly on me.
Maybe that means I don’t have to avoid him for the whole day. I’d come prepared to do exactly that, but as I walked closer, his eyes never left mine and my brain did that thing it’d been doing on a loop for days.
I shouldn’t have kissed him. He’s my boss. He’s an asshole. A tyrant with a god complex and a terrible bedside manner. Also, he’s thirty-three, which isn’t ancient, but it is a few years past me, and that matters.
At twenty-seven, I hadn’t even hit the big three-oh yet. I still got carded sometimes. There was no way he and I could be on the same page about what we wanted out of this phase of our lives.
So why did he have to look so good in his underwear? Why did he have to kiss so well?
That part really pissed me off, because the kiss hadn’t been clumsy or rushed. It’d been confident and intentional. And you really need to stop freaking thinking about it.
I couldn’t afford to get sucked into the whole wedding-vibe today. With all the romance in the air, the flowers, the music, and the church full of hope, weddings had a way of making people weird. Emotional. But I really couldn’t let myself get caught up in it.
I was here to support Liana. That was it.
The plan I’d formulated to get myself through the day without falling for the weddingness of it all was simple.
Say hi to Sullivan, get the awkwardness out of the way, make sure Liana saw that I’d come, then slip into a pew and disappear as early as socially acceptable. Head home. Bed. Nachos. No drama.
Because on Monday morning, he would still be my boss and I would still have to look him in the eye every day when I got to work—and that was already hard enough.
If I bawled my eyes out at his sister’s wedding and ended up dancing on the tables to Shout!
, while shooting tequila like water and talking about all the things I’d want in the future for my own wedding day, I would never be able to show my face at Saint Raphael’s again.
With that thought in mind, I drew in a deep breath as I closed the distance between us. Sullivan was still smiling, watching me approach with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but that wasn’t all. He was also alone now that the older man had slipped inside.
Sure, a few other guests were milling about outside, the women hanging on the arms of elegantly dressed men while they slowly made their way toward the steps. But none of them appeared to have come with him.
I’d assumed a man like him would have no trouble finding a date.
He probably had women lining up to wear the fancy dresses he’d had sent over for them like in the movies.
Women who would be good at pretending not to be intimidated by his bank account—or maybe even actively going after him to gain access to it.
Maybe his date is inside with Liana. Or stuck in traffic. Or taking a dump.
My cheeks flushed slightly at the thought as he stepped forward and I stopped in front of him. His full attention was on me now and that smile came back, just for me, like he’d been bracing for impact and decided it might not kill him after all.
Another odd, fluttering sensation started low in my stomach, the awareness coming back to life with that annoying, traitorous spark lighting deep inside my body.
You are better than this, Bree Bennett. You’re mature, a healthcare professional who has provided hospice and end-of-life care. You’re not going to faint over a man in a tux.
“Hi,” he said with a friendly tone. The greeting was delivered with an easy confidence that was so different to the barking I was used to hearing from him that I nearly swooned despite the pep talk I’d just given myself. “Thank you for coming, Bree. Liana is going to be so happy to see you.”
“I, uh, hi,” I finally managed, clearing my throat before I remembered how to be polite and arranged my lips into what I hoped was a smile. “Yeah. No. I’m excited to here.”
Well, hello, Ms. Eloquence. Beautifully put, darling.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the voice inside my head, but instead, I just kept smiling up at him. It felt normal. Surprisingly so. Easy, even. There was no weirdness at all hanging between us like a bad smell.
We were just two people acknowledging each other in the daylight, in public, without paper gowns or cannoli in reaching distance.
Although he was looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time, which was ridiculous because he’d seen me in scrubs, in fury, and in the middle of a heated face-off about cake.
Still, his gaze lingered on me in a way that made my pulse spike, those blue eyes raking over my body from head to toe. He glanced around and looked into my eyes again. “Where’s your plus-one?”
I snorted before I could stop myself. “I’m flying solo today.”
“Me too,” he said, and for reasons I absolutely refused to unpack right then, my heart gave a very stupid little kick.
I arched an eyebrow at him though, disbelieving and then some. “You’re flying solo? Seriously?”
He smiled again, that rare, unfair smile I’d seen when he’d first spotted me on the sidewalk, and then, instead of deflecting, he surprised me.
“I wanted to be able to focus on Liana and making sure her big day goes off without a hitch. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I’d brought someone.
Not without being the worst date in human history, anyway. ”
The admission caught me off guard. “Oh. Wow. That’s actually really sweet.”
He made a noncommittal sound. “Don’t spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain.”
A couple approached him and he turned toward them, greeting both by name before asking about their recent travels and the woman’s work. I probably should’ve just turned to head inside now that I’d officially been greeted, but I found myself rooted to the spot.
This was a different Sullivan to the one I’d thought I knew, but he was also different to the guy I’d met when he’d finally told me that he was ready to listen. This man was charming in a way that felt practiced, but not fake.
When they congratulated him on his sister’s nuptials, he smiled warmly, thanked them, and made a joke about surviving wedding planning.
It was breaking my brain to realize there were so many more different layers to him than I’d realized, like he was a real, multi-faceted human being who hadn’t only been humanized, but was, in fact, a whole person.
It was only when the couple turned and strode into the church that I realized I’d hovered for the entire exchange. Talk about making things awkward.
“I’m going to go grab a seat,” I said once they were gone, trying to cover for having stayed out here for no apparent reason other than being fascinated by him. “I’ll see you inside.”
“Bree,” he said quietly.
I paused, frowning at the strange softness of his tone as I glanced up at him. “Yeah?”
He leaned in just enough that only I could hear him. “Please stay.”
The raw, almost hesitant edge of vulnerability in his voice rooted me to the spot. He wasn’t cocky right now at all, and when he pulled back and I saw that same odd, unfamiliar softness on his face as well, I nodded.
“Just for a bit,” I said. “I’d like to find a seat before it fills up.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he replied easily, turning to greet the next couple that came up to him. Once they were gone, he glanced back at me. “Have you spoken to my sister today?”
“No.” I frowned a little, my head cocking as I thought it over. “It’s her wedding day and I’ve barely known her for a month. Why do you ask?”
“She’s been nervous all week,” he said, glancing toward the doors. “But she’s pretending she’s not. With me, at least. I was hoping maybe you knew something I didn’t.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have told you about it unless she wanted me to,” I said in no uncertain terms. “I don’t know anything, though. All I can tell you is that she hides it well, but something has definitely been off about her.”
He looked at me, surprise flickering across his expression. “You noticed that without her telling you anything?”
I shrugged. “I notice things. It’s an occupational hazard.”
“Yeah, you do, don’t you? You’re remarkably good at looking straight through people.”
“Careful,” I said. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
He smiled. “Don’t get used to it.”
The last guests filed into the church, and suddenly, it was much quieter out here. We stood there another moment as he looked around, but there were no more people milling about and no new cars entering the parking area across the street.
“We should go in,” he said. “I think that’s it for my doorman duties.”
Before I could respond, he took my hand. I stiffened slightly, but I didn’t pull away. “Sullivan—”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m sitting up front. You’re with me.”
“I don’t think that’s how the seating for these things usually works.”
“It is today.”
I rolled my eyes but followed him anyway, letting him lead me to a pew right at the front. When we sat, our knees brushed, and we both shifted at the same time, then froze.
“Sorry,” we said together.
I glanced at him, feeling a smile I couldn’t hide appearing on my lips. “Wow. We really nailed that, huh?”
He glanced at me, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he nodded. “Are you nervous?”
I scoffed. “Please. Weddings could never make me nervous. I face down angry patients and malfunctioning IVs on a daily basis.”
“Don’t forget hospital owners with more ego than common sense.”
Blinking back my surprise, I chuckled. “Especially those.”
He leaned back slightly. “Okay, so weddings don’t make you nervous. What’s your official stance on them, then?”
“Weddings?” I asked, and when he dipped his chin in a nod, I considered the question. “I like the food. I tolerate the speeches. I judge the music harshly.”
“Harshly?”
“If I hear ‘Sweet Caroline,’ I leave.”
He laughed under his breath. “Duly noted. We need to take Neil Diamond off the playlist.”
I waved him off. “Nah, he can stay. It’s just that song.”
“It’s a beloved anthem.”
“It’s also usually played at the time of night when I should be heading home,” I said, then inclined my chin at him. “What about you? What’s your stance on weddings? Are you a big, squishy romantic at heart?”
“Absolutely not,” he said immediately, then paused for just a beat. “Unless it’s my sister. I’m invested when it’s her.”
“That makes sense. You guys seem pretty close.”
“We are.” Those blue eyes swept over me again. “You look nice, by the way.”
Blistering heat took over my entire face, but there was no hiding or avoiding it with him sitting right next to me, so I just smiled and gave a little shrug. “Thanks. My friends insisted we go shopping for the occasion.”
He smiled and our shoulders brushed again when he shifted, neither of us moving away this time. I felt the soft scrape of his jacket against my bare skin and my nerve endings suddenly went on high alert, but Sullivan was still just smiling like he wasn’t affected at all.
“So, why didn’t you bring anyone?” he asked. “You know my reasons now. I showed you mine, you show me yours?”
I laughed. “Weddings are dangerous territory.”
I didn’t add that the only men in my life were my father and my best friends’ husbands.
“Dangerous territory?” he echoed, eyebrows sweeping up as he held my gaze. “How so?”
“There’s too much cake, too much champagne, and too many feelings floating around.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It depends on the cake, the champagne, and the feelings.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever met a woman who reasons the way you do.” He chuckled, his head shaking. “Plenty of guys, sure, but definitely not many girls.”
“I’m a unicorn.” I pumped my eyebrows once. “You’re welcome.”
A silent pause settled between us, but it wasn’t awkward and it didn’t last long before he looked at me again. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“You could’ve made an excuse.”
“I like Liana and she said she wanted me here, so here I am,” I said simply. “I’m not here on a covert mission to spy on you, Mr. Crowne.”
“I didn’t think you were.” He laughed, something in his expression softening. “She likes you too.”
We shared a look then, and for just a second, it felt like the rest of the world dimmed.
Our knees brushed again, my shoulder pressing a little harder into his when I crossed my legs.
Every time we accidentally touched each other, we both went still for half a second, like we’d touched a live wire.
Then we jointly pretended it hadn’t happened at all.
Honestly, even though we were just waiting for the bride and groom to arrive, this felt like a date. The realization made my pulse jump in a way I wasn’t prepared for, because it also forced me to admit that I didn’t dislike the feeling.
As I forced my eyes away from his, I tried desperately to remember all the many reasons why I hated this man, but right now, I couldn’t even come up with one. Shit. I really am screwed, aren’t I?