Page 92 of That Geeky Feeling

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ELLIOT

Ihaul open my parents’ big green front door to see Charlotte step out of Max’s black Mercedes and into the sunshine like a goddess emerging from a cloud, or the ocean, or a clamshell, or whatever it is goddesses emerge from. She looks like a fucking goddess, anyway.

A floating floral dress skims her ankles, its skinny straps and triangles cupping her breasts leave nowhere to hide a bra. The bare curve of her shoulders calls for my lips.

She tosses back her free-flowing hair and smiles at me with a warmth and joy that makes me the luckiest man alive.

I duck down to wave to George before he drives away.

Charlotte’s high heels crunch on the gravel as she makes her way toward me like a walking work of art.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” I tell her and move in for a kiss.

She pulls back. “Careful. Someone might see.”

“They’re all in the back of the house or way down at the end of the yard by the pond.”

“No risks, Elliot. There’s too much at stake.” She points at her glossy mouth. “Plus, it took me ages to get this lipstick right.”

My lips ache with frustration. “Damn.” I trace lines from her shoulders all the way down her arms and take her hands. “I’ve been looking forward to kissing you since the last time I kissed you. Can I please smudge it later?”

“Maybe,” she says with a flirtatious side-eye, then holds up our joined hands. “We can’t do this either.”

“This is rapidly turning into an exceedingly disappointing day.”

“Not at all. You look gorgeous too,” she says, running a finger down the lapel of my jacket. “Awesome suit.”

I look down at myself. “Hm. It’s okay. I wasn’t convinced of the idea of linen, but Owen wanted us all to match. Maybe it’s a California thing.”

“Perfect for this glorious day. And this is beautiful too.” She looks up at the wide three-story stone house behind me. “I always thought it looked amazing in the pictures you and Max have shown me. But in person…wow.”

Max, Connor, Walker, Tom, and I bought the dilapidated village manor house for my parents a couple years ago. It took about six months to renovate it—Max and Connor handled most of that.

It’s a stunning place for family gatherings. And my mom couldn’t be happier to host Owen and Summer’s wedding in the enormous walled garden.

“Max was such a pain when you guys were fixing this up,” Charlotte says. “He kept having me chase faucet suppliers, tilers, and the like on top of my actual job.”

“I’ll give you a full tour later. But for now, we’d better get down to the action. The wedding starts in an hour. Let’s go through the house.”

“Great, because I need to pee.”

“Is this allowed?” I offer her my elbow. “A bit of chivalrous, gentlemanly assistance up the steps?”

“I think that’s pretty chaste.” She takes the crook of my elbow, the contact sending sparks up my arm and into my chest. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands and mouth off this stunning woman all day?

“This might be the closest I can get to you”—I lower my voice as we approach the front door—“but you just being here makes all the difference to everything.”

She gives me a coy smile and lifts her dress a couple of inches so she doesn’t step on the hem as we make our way up the steps. “I can’t believe I get to be a part of this at all.” She leans toward me and whispers. “Much less as your secret lover.”

Could she be any hotter?

“Oh, look at this,” she says, her mouth falling open as we step into the wide two-story foyer with its sweeping curved staircase and shiny black-and-white tile floor.

“Yup, all the restoration people did a great job.” I point at a paneled door under the stairs. “There’s a powder room in there. I’ll wait for you.”

“Hi, Charlotte,” Owen says, emerging from the study that looks out onto the driveway.

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