Page 5 of The Casella King

He towers over me, his buff frame perfectly outlined in his form-fitting suit. Dark brown eyes stare down at me, sucking me in like a hypnotic tunnel. The raw, masculine beauty he possesses floors me, and I forget even the simplest of words.

Hi, would be good.

“Do you mind?” he asks as he points to my dress stuck on the wire.

Now would be a good time to speak, Aries.

I let go of my dress and watch as his strong hands work to free me. My eyes are pinned to the intricate artwork tattooed on his hands, and in one swift move, he tears the hem of my dress, the sound of material ripping filling my ears. Gasping, I look down, and to my horror, my dress is now five inches shorter. Short enough for people to mistake me for a working girl.

“Oh my god.” My hands move to cover my thighs as his eyes skate down to my bare legs. I feel a flutter inside my chest as he shamelessly devours me with his eyes.

“I think it looks a lot better.” He smirks.

I could die right now.

“Better?” I give him a sarcastic smile. “I look like a hooker.”

His wide grin covers his devilishly handsome face, and I hate how good he looks.

I scoff as I begin to pick up my things off the grass.

“You’re welcome,” he says as if he helped me.

“For what?” I turn to face him. “I could have done the same thing. The aim wasnotto rip the dress.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he offers as he picks up one of my folders and hands it to me.

“No, thank you. I don’t need anything from you.” I turn to walk away, the muscle in my chest thumping harder than ever, threatening to escape like the traitorous bitch she is.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” he asks as I roll my eyes.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I want to.

“Aries,” I say, without turning to face him, focused solely on getting into that church, and doing my job.

Once I walk through the large doors, I bring out my checklist and ensure everything is completed. My assistant, Rachel, offers to grab me some water as I check off my list. Everything seems to be in order, the flowers are here and set up, the candles are burning bright, the groom is here…that’s always a good sign…and the mother and father of the bride are here.

Perfect.

Rachel comes walk-running with a bottle of water in her hand, and I am so thankful for her. From the heat to the stupidly good-looking man who ripped my dress, water is very much welcome right now. I place the bottle to my lips and take a few gulps, trying to regain my composure. I’ve never been late to anything in my life, but thanks to London traffic and my drunk father losing the keys to my beat-up car, I guess there’s a first for everything.

“Should I ask?” Rachel eyes the hem of my dress, and I shake my head.

“Nope. Please, do not.” I sigh, taking a seat in the pew whilst Rachel steps away to ensure the bride is not having second thoughts.

I’ve seen my share of those weddings too.

Taking out my phone, I flick through my calendar and make notes on what I have on next. Luckily, the next wedding isn’t for a couple weeks away, so I might get some time to myself, although I’m not quite sure how much I want to be at home.

“For the dress.” My eyes land on a solid gold credit card in front of my face. I know exactly who it is by the deepness in his voice.

“I told you, I don’t want your money.” I return my attention to my phone, and I feel him slip into the pew beside me, hisspicy, clean scent gliding into my nose. Although I don’t want to, I wonder why he’s interested in me.

God, he smells good.

Expensive.

“At least let me make it up to you.” His strong features dominate my vision, and like a car crash, I can’t look away. “Aries.” His voice raspy, I can almost feel the vibrations through the small distance between us.

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