“You are?”
“Come on over,” the man says. “I’m Paul…” As he introduces the people around the piano, we take the two empty seats and learn that it’s the younger couple who were just moments ago engaged.
Trevor hands me a shot glass. “To your wedding tomorrow. Too bad yours and mine aren’t the same, or I’d ask you to dance.”
We all drink.
“That would be nice,” I say, placing the glass back on the bar and wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “But I’m the maid of honor, and I’m a little busy looking after the bride.”
“I’ve heard those wedding dresses can be a real pain.”
“Only if she needs to pee,” I say and immediately cover my own lips. “Oh, I can’t believe I said that.”
“We’ll blame the shot,” he says with a laugh. “But now I’m going to blame you for making me think about that every time I look at my future sister-in-law.”
“And I’ll think of you each time I’m crammed in a stall with ten layers of lace in the air.”
He leans closer, his warm breath on my neck. “At least you’ll be thinking of me.”
My skin heats. I’m not sure if it’s from his closeness or the accuracy of his statement.
Just as quickly, his smile fades. “Unfortunately, I have a date coming to the wedding…”
Before he can finish, I start to stand. “Wait.” Trevor reaches for my hand, his fingers surrounding mine. “Let me finish.”
“Okay,” I say, not sure why I want to let him finish. First, he says he wants to dance with me, and then, he mentions a date. Nevertheless, I tentatively sit back down.
“I’d much rather have you as my date. You see, the woman who is coming is a friend. And before you ask or think or anything…she really is...a real friend. The thing is that I couldn’t show up at my brother’s wedding stag.”
The bartender hands us each another shot. I bring mine to my lips as Trevor continues, “We Willises have a reputation.”
As he says his last name, I choke, cough, and almost spit as the Fireball burns its way down my throat.
His large hand rubs circles over my back. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t think so.” I lift my hand toward the bartender. “Another shot, please.”
And that’s how we learn the truth. Our wedding is one and the same. We could dance together. Except that Trevor has a friend from New York flying in the next morning. Apparently, Trevor’s been working on an out-of-state project and wasn’t even sure he’d make the wedding. If he’d accepted the best-man offer from Duncan, we’d be paired.
Now he’ll be with a pretend date, and I’ll be alone.
“I know,” he says, “I’ll call her and tell her not to come.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes. She won’t mind. She is coming here anyway, except…”
“Except what?” I ask, my mind filling with a thousand reasons why I don’t want his friend who is a woman to be with him at the wedding.
“Her fiancé is a friend of mine.”
My eyebrows arch. “Her fiancé?”
His shoulders shrug. “Okay, I’m about to share with you a Willis family secret. But first you must promise to never tell a soul.”
“I don’t know. My best friend is marrying your brother. Don’t you think she should know the secret?”
“No, most definitely not.”
The bartender eases two more shots our way. “I-I’m…” I wave it away.
“One more shot,” Trevor says, “and I’ll be brave enough to tell you what very few people know.”
I never have been one to step back from a challenge. Whether it is moving from my small town to New York or from New York to London, I am driven to want more. That includes knowing family secrets. I lift the shot glass, fascinated by the way the Fireball no longer burns. Instead, it’s a warm cinnamon liqueur much like a Christmas drink. Either that or my throat is now numb.
Trevor lifts his glass. Together we swallow our third, or is it fourth?
Slamming the glass down on the piano, I say, “Okay, spill.”
He eases from his barstool and offers me his hand. Without hesitation, I place my hand in his. It fits in a way I’ve never felt before—like it’s right. Like it’s meant to be. Like fate brought me back to the hotel, to this bar.
The world wobbles as I step down from my tall chair. Immediately, Trevor’s arm goes around my waist. “Do you need to go to your room?”
The patio is just beyond the long bar and a few tables. I tilt my head that way. “Maybe some fresh air.”
The fake red glow of the fire pit is the only illumination as the off-key singing and celebration from inside fades to a ringing in my ears. “Spill, Mr. Willis…” A laugh bubbles in my throat, growing until tears are falling from my eyes.
“What’s so funny?”
“Mr. Willis. That’s what Kimbra used to call Duncan.”
“That’s my secret,” Trevor says in all seriousness.
I squint again, trying to see him better. “What’s your secret?”
“Before Kimbra, Duncan was a lady’s man like no other.”
I shake my head back and forth. “From what I’ve heard that’s only partially true. Women like to talk as much as men.”
“I’ve never been able to keep up with him.”
This time I lean back and take a prolonged look at Trevor Willis, his handsome features, and sexy, casual confidence. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s true. I’m awkward around women.”
“You don’t seem awkward to me.”
“You’re different,” he says as he moves closer.
“I’m a woman.”
“Oh, Shana, you are definitely a woman.”
My breathing accelerates as his lips near mine. Cinnamon fills my senses as we kiss. It’s soft and fresh, growing warmer by the second. When we pull away, I smile. “Definitely not awkward.”
“Cynthia, my pretend date, is engaged to my friend Eric,” Trevor says. “He’s also an engineer. We work for the same firm in New York. He’s been working on a project here in Indianapolis. When I was talking to them about Duncan’s wedding, Cynthia said she would be coming to town to visit Eric and would be happy to be my date. At first, we joked about it, but then it seemed like a good idea. Eric knows it’s not real. Heck, he thinks it’s funny. So, I RSVP’d for two.
“You see, Duncan and I are as different as night and day. We get along, yet there’s always this brotherly competition. He went through some shit when we were young, but well, since then, he can never do anything wrong. It’s not that I want to be like him. I’m happy. It’s that I sometimes feel...”
“Don’t tell her not to come,” I say, reaching out and touching his arm.
Trevor covers my hand with his. “I am most certain that I’d rather be with you.”
“I’d like that. But if you and Duncan are in competition, wouldn’t picking up the bride’s best friend be kind of a shitty thing to do on his wedding day? Or would I be that one person to up you in the competition?”