The groom was good-looking too—no surprise—but he was either hungover from the bachelor party too or scared out of his wits because his face was pale and wan under waves of coal-black hair, but when he stepped forward and smiled at his bride, his entire face lit up.
Aww!
Now that she thought about it, Jaxon had never looked at her that way. To her surprise and relief, she didn’t much care anymore. Jaxon had loved Jaxon and she hadn’t seen it. The therapist she’d seen after the failed wedding said she hadn’t been able to spot Jaxon’s narcissistic tendencies because she’d been projecting her goodness and kind intentions onto him and that led her to make excuses whenever a small red flag popped up.
Truly, she’d had a narrow escape, and she was grateful he’d dumped her. She’d cast Jaxon in the role of her true love because she’d desperately wanted one special person in her life, but he’d blown it.
Him, not her. Yes, she’d made a mistake in falling for his initial charm, but she knew better now, and that education was priceless.
Attending this wedding was shock therapy. Watching another woman get married in her dress was crushing, but it stirred up constructive anger. She was a good person, and she hadn’t deserved to be jilted on her wedding day.
She let the coat slide off her shoulders. No more sitting home feeling sorry for herself! She was turning the page, starting a new chapter.
Bold and brave, here I come.
After the ceremony, the newlyweds rushed down the aisle, beaming at each other, while the ushers remained behind to dismiss the guests row by row. Tom was standing at her side, smiling and having conversations with people as they left the church.
Some men looked stiff and uncomfortable in tuxes, but Tom seemed totally at ease in the black formal wear, stiff white shirt, bow tie, and red rosebud boutonniere. His tousled dark-brown hair curled over the collar of the jacket in back and spilled over his forehead, softening the thrust of high cheekbones and a strong chin.
He was something straight out of a wedding magazine fantasy.
She was close enough now so she couldn’t see his face without looking up, but the part of him at eye level gave her shivers. His stomach was flat and his fine-tuned muscular body shoved her imagination into overdrive.
“You look great,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel a warm tickle of air. “I’m glad you took your coat off.”
Feeling self-conscious by his frank admiration, she pulled her coat back on as she joined the crowd flowing down the aisle to the receiving line near the outer door. Shy about introducing herself to the bride wearing her dress with so many other people around, Jude found a deserted spot beside the guest book stand to wait for a lull in the action so she could meet Tara.
“You’re with Tom?” The well-endowed blonde who’d manned the book studied her with a surprised stare.
“Yes, I am,” she said, surprised herself by the swell of pride in her chest. Any urge she had to explain the real nature of their relationship vanished in the competitive glare coming from behind excessively long eyelash extensions.
So much for making new friends.
When Tom found her, he linked his arm through hers and escorted her over to meet Tara and her new husband, Ben, who was a pastry chef. The moment wasn’t as awkward as Jude feared.
Tara gushed over the dress and told Jude how honored she was that she’d come to the wedding. Tom’s sister was smart and lively, and Jude found herself wishing she could get to know Tara better. They chitchatted for a few minutes, but then the photographer showed up to whisk the wedding party to the front lawn.
Jude watched from afar, enjoying seeing Tom interact with his family.
When the picture-taking was over, she rode alone with Tom to the reception. She couldn’t help feeling like she was intruding and wondered why she’d really come. After digging around in her psyche for an answer, this was all she could come up with.
Tom was hot and she was lonely.
Thankfully, the trip to the reception hall was short, and they kept up a casual conversation about the ceremony, but that was as deep as it went.
Inside the large squat building rented out for the reception, Tom led her to the coat check desk and scanned the crowd through the double doors of the main room where a three-piece band was tuning up.
She unbuttoned her coat.
Tom was behind her, helping her out of it before she could do it herself. When his fingers brushed against her bare shoulder, Jude tingled all the way to her tailbone.
“Tom, honey, save a dance for me.” A tall, honey-haired bridesmaid wiggled her fingers at him as she passed.
Jude recognized her as the bridesmaid that Tom had escorted down the aisle as part of the bridal party processional.
“Terrific job, Brenna.” Tom gave the woman a thumbs-up.
That was kind of him to say. Even though all a bridesmaid had to do was glide down the aisle and stand there without calling attention to herself, it wasn’t as easy as it looked, especially, if like Jude, you had a touch of social anxiety. She’d done the bridesmaid two-step more times than she cared to count.
Thirteen to be exact.
She’d been a bridesmaid thirteen times. Not quite as bad as the heroine in 27 Dresses but she was getting there.
The guest-book blonde cornered Tom as soon as they walked into the reception room for the cocktail hour. “You look great in that tux, Tom.”
“So did the fifty guys who wore it before me, Carla.”
“I’ll bet you can’t wait to get out of it,” she trilled.
“If I need any help, I’ll let you know.”
“I wish I could speak my mind like that,” Jude mumbled after Carla moved on. “I’m just too shy.”
“Carla’s a bundle of energy. She put the ‘f’ in fun.”
“I want to be a lot of fun.”
“Then just relax,” he soothed in his sexy-as-sin voice. “And have a good time.”
“I’m working on it.” She gulped.
“Practice makes perfect.” He grinned and gently put his hand to her upper back to guide her through the crowd. “Can I get you a drink?”
She liked his hand on her. Was that smart? Honestly, all she knew about him was what she’d found on a quick internet search. Tom Brunswick had an active life, a social media presence, and a website for his furniture business that had garnered over a thousand five-star reviews. She was impressed.
“A ginger ale would be nice, thank you,” she said, both disappointed and relieved that he’d have to retract his hand in order to fetch the drinks.
“How about white wine spritzer just to loosen up a little? You did say you wanted to get rid of that Goody Two-Shoes image.”
“Do I have to drink?”
“Nope, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. That’s the point. I’ll get the ginger ale.”
“Thank you.”
“Be right back.” He waved and took off.
Leaving Jude feeling like an island solitary in a sea of happy people.
4
Jude watched as Tom joined a small crowd milling around the wet bar, then scanned the room, wishing she knew someone with whom to strike up a conversation.
A handsome man strolled up, curious interest in his dark eyes. “Did I just see you with Tom?”