Page 29 of Be My Reason

A good looking older man walks up, blocking my view of Nate.He says, “Ah, the illustrious Brooklyn. Finally we meet.”

Finally?

He smiles at me and I instantly know who he is. There is only one other person in the world that is able to melt me with that smile. The smile that makes my heart go into overdrive and makes my palms get sweaty.

“Mr. Riley, I presume?” I take his proffered hand.

“Please, call me Nathan.” He is assessing me in a way that doesn’t quite make me uncomfortable, yet I know he is sizing me up. “I can see now why my son is drawn to you. You—”

“Pappy!Come dance wif me,” a toothless Candy interrupts.

“How can I say no to that?”He swings her up and onto his hip. “Brooklyn, please excuse me, will you?”

“Of course.It was nice meeting you Mr . . . er . . . Nathan.” I blush.

I’m sittinghere left wondering what he was going to say. Nate is drawn to me . . .still? It’s been so long. He’s talked to his father about me? So many questions are running through my mind.

Ryan grabs my hand. “Looks like you need to dance, too.I’m just not sure I want you standing on my feet.”

“Are you calling me fat?” I smile.

“Hell no, woman. What kind of death wish do you think I have?” he jokes.

We dance to some of my favorite songs.Emma let me help with the playlist. I made her swear no Nickelback. I still don’t listen to them, especially not when Nate is going to be in the same room.

My head is resting on Ryan’s shoulder while we slow dance when I catch Nate staring at us.He looks at me with the same eyes he had when I was walking down the aisle. Then he shifts his eyes to Ryan and his face goes through a transformation from pissed to hurt to frustrated as his hand runs through that messy-yet-incredible hair of his.

I turn away and finish the dance, determined that Nate will not spoil my evening.Who am I kidding? He has already spoiled it. Or I have. Because I can’t stop thinking about him.

Stop thinking about him.

My feet are killing me so I lead Ryan off the dance floor. I lead him right off into the train wreck I see walking towards us.

Nate looks at me, takes a deep breath, and then turns to Ryan and extends his hand.“Michael, I just wanted to say you are a lucky guy.”

Oh, shit.

Ryan shakes his hand and says, “I’ll agree with you that I am a lucky guy to be escorting this beautiful woman, but I’m not Michael. Ryan Thompson.” He turns to me and says, “Michael, wasn’t that your fiancé?”

Shit, shit, shit.

“Was your fiancé?” Nate says. “As in, not anymore?” He raises an eyebrow.

Ryan looks at Nate.Then he looks at me. Various scenarios simultaneously play out in my head as to how I should handle this. In the end, though, I stay silent.

Confused, Ryan looks back at Nate and says, “Uh, Michael died almost two years ago Mr . . . ?”

The blood drains from Nate’s face and he struggles to remember his own name.“N-Nate. Riley,” he chokes out.

“Oh, shit . . . Nate Riley!” Ryan raises his eyebrows at me. I can practically see the light bulb go off over his head. He looks at me like I might collapse right here on the edge of the dance floor. “Well, this couldn’t have been any more awkward, could it?” He smiles. The bastard.

I haven’t breathed a word yet.I don’t know what to say.

Sorry, Nate, my fiancé died shortly after we had an almost-kiss and I told Emma and Graham to not tell you because I didn’t want you in my life. In fact, I don’t want you or any other man, ever again, so just leave me alone.

“Ryan,” Nate addresses him, “would I be stepping on any toes if I asked to dance with Brooklyn?”

“I don’t know, man.That is up to . . .Brooklyn, was it?” They both turn and look at me.

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