Once out on the sidewalk, he gripped my hand with his free one, practically tugging me down the street. After trekking a full city block, in heels that were meant to torture women’s feet, I asked, “Are we walking to the wedding?” I was given his side smirk and seriously wanted to wipe it off his face. Okay, I may have been a tad cranky, but it was all his fault with that kiss and suggesting sex.
He finally led me to a sleek black Jaguar sedan, released my hand to press the fob, and opened the door for me before putting my bag in the back seat.
It felt as though I’d slid into heaven when soft leather met the back of my thighs, and his cologne assaulted my senses. I shit you not, the moment he slammed the door shut, I moaned.
Watching him fold himself into the driver’s seat before he commandeered the dashboard, adjusted the temperature, selected music, and pulled out into traffic was super sexy.
Who made driving sexy?
I was way out of my element with this man. With little effort he could always manage to turn me into a version of myself I didn’t recognize. At that moment, silent, timid, insecure Amy was present. And one would think my reluctance to speak would have him trying to ease the tension.
Nope.
He hummed along to some of the songs or otherwise remained absolutely silent.
Of course, emergency construction because of falling rocks added almost an hour to our commute. We had barely enough time to check into the adorable bed-and-breakfast Nate had found, where none of his relatives would be, drop our bags off in our room, and freshen up a bit before getting back in the car and heading to the wedding.
By the time we pulled up to the rustic catering hall ten minutes later, I stared out the window appreciating to the landscape. A picturesque kaleidoscope of reds, ambers, and golds as leaves began making their transformation because of the fall temperatures that had hit the region.
Nate opened my door and took my hand to help me out. “This is stunning,” I said, staring at the huge log cabin structure, which weirdly screamed luxury. “I expected it to be different.”
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, taking my hand and leading me inside. The lobby was cavernous, with high ceilings and wood beams accenting the pitched roof. A massive stone fireplace took up an entire wall, and a matching stone reception desk took up another.
“Welcome to Banner’s Lodge,” a middle-age woman said with a warm smile. “Are you here for the Mancini-Wells affair?”
“Yes,” Nate said with a nod.
“Okay, restrooms are here in the main lodge. The reception is in our event barn. You can proceed through the french door and follow the path.”
“Thank you.” Nate flashed her his brilliant smile, appearing completely relaxed.
Unlike me. To say my stomach was in knots would be an understatement. I almost wished I was back in the sexually charged, torturously long car ride over what I was dealing with now. The entire situation caused a deep unsettling feeling, and all I could concentrate on was not throwing up.
Meanwhile, without a care in the world, he held my hand in his as we followed her instructions. Just before he opened the giant wooden door of the event barn, I tugged to stop his steps.
“What?”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” From what little Nate shared during the drive, this cousin was on his mother’s side of the family. In a matter of seconds, I’d be meeting around fifty people, including aunts, uncles, and cousins.
“Do what? Walk through a door?” he asked with that damn smirk.
“You know what. We’re an hour late.” And based on the thumping music and chatter, the wedding was in full swing… hopefully our entrance would go unnoticed by all.
“We probably just missed the cocktail hour. No big deal.”
“For me it is. I’m about to meet your family.”
Sensing that I was on a precipice of a full-blown meltdown, his expression softened before he cupped my cheek. “Don’t overthink this, Jersey. It’s a party, nothing more.”
“A party with your entire family, Nate.”
“Max isn’t here.” My eye roll was met with a grin. “Okay, let’s look at it as a night out with questionable food and corny dancing. The moment the cake is cut, we’re out of here. Until then, we’ll have a few cocktails. You’ll relax in no time. Sound good?”
Sounds terrifying. But I nodded along and said, “Fine.” Really, what choice did I have?
He stared into my eyes. “You’re stunning, confident, and a force to be reckoned with, Jersey. Remember that.” Those words served as a balm for my irrational behavior. But it was when he pressed his lips to mine in a firm, hard, purposeful kiss that I felt as though Nate truly had my back. He pulled away to again fix his gaze to mine. “As you said earlier, let’s do this.”
With that, he swung open the door and walked us smack in the middle of pandemonium. The dance floor was jammed with bodies swaying to a country song I didn’t recognize. The tables surrounding it were peppered with guests hollering over the music. At least ten little kids were engaged in a game of tag, dodging in and out of the adults in their way.
But because my luck sucked, at that exact moment the song ended, and the crowd adjusted the volume of their voices just as the massive barn door slammed shut behind us with a thunderous bang.
Everyone paused to look our way.
Everyone.
And what did my date do? He chuckled, waved, and yelled, “Sorry we’re late!”
I’d been introduced to the bride, groom, cousins, aunts, uncles, and the band, who apparently were also related in some way. Even though Nate used the words my friend, Amy, many were surprised at his introduction. And as a result, the term serial bachelor was used to reference Nate six times… I counted.
What seemed an eternity later, we finally walked our way to table number 5. Nate’s easy smile contradicted my own smile, which made me appear constipated.
“Hey,” he said, as four pairs of eyes landed on us. Brad’s were the first I met, and his annoyed expression distracted me for a moment. That was until Nate’s parents stood with beaming smiles. “It’s about time you got here,” his mother said first, throwing her arms around her son.
“You guys remember Amy?” Nate asked when she released him.
“Of course.” She then hugged me in the same way. “I was so happy to hear you and Nate were together.”
“Um… thank you,” I pathetically said, looking to Nate for some guidance as to what she thought I was to her son. It was probably something I should’ve asked on the way, but I received nothing in return but a smug smirk.
Monica placed a hand on mine, and after a quick glance over her shoulder, leaned closer conspiratorially. “I know you and Brad have flirted in the past, but Nate is a better match.”
“Um… we’re just friends.” I may as well have said, I’m from Mars, because she waved a hand at me in dismissal. Of course, Nate again remained silent, giving me no indication what he was thinking.
Thankfully, her husband intervened. “Monica, please let the girl be,” Mitch said before nudging himself between his wife and me. “It’s nice to see you again, Amy.”
“Same here.”
While Nate and Mitch chatted over some ball game from the day before, Brad slowly rose out of his chair, coming around the table to step into my personal space and kiss my cheek. “Amy.”