Page 49 of This Means War

“Oh please,” Cole scoffs. “He wastotallyhitting on you. ‘I was actually hoping you might do it with me, but I can see that won’t be an option,’” he mimics. “C’mon, Lydia. Guys don’t ask women who they just want to be friends with to run marathons with them.”

My face reddens. “He and I used to run together a lot, Cole. We were running buddies. Besides, in case you missed it, I’m pregnant.” I gesture to my bump. “Men don’t hit on pregnant women. The bump is something of a turn-off.”

A muscle ticks in Cole’s jaw. “You don’t believe me, fine. But I want you to stay away from that guy, Lydia.”

I’m torn between annoyance and pleasure. Even if he is being a butthead, it’s nice to have him be the jealous one for once.

“Well, I work with that guy,” I retort, “so that might be kind of hard.”

Before Cole can reply, another guest I know accosts us, and we both paste on smiles until the line dies down and it’s time for pictures.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Cole tells me as the photographer calls for the bridal party to assemble.

“Okay.” I nod, feeling deflated, then turn to go.

“And Lydia,” Cole catches me by the arm, and I look back; intensity shines from his brown eyes as he bends down to whisper in my ear, “pregnant or not, don’t think for a second that you’re notthe most gorgeous woman here.” He releases my arm and without waiting for a response, heads off towards the bar. I don’t move for a full minute as my stomach flips in delight, sparks of desire coursing through me. Cole thinks I’m gorgeous. As I take my spot next to Jamie, the photographer doesn’t even have to tell me to smile.

Chapter 34

Cole

Thanks to thefact that Lydia is in the bridal party and I am not, I don’t see her again until after dinner. Instead, I spend the meal at a table filled with people from their church. I don’t mind making small talk, at least until John, the pastor who performed the ceremony, turns to me and asks why he’s never seen me at church with Lydia before. I fumble through an excuse about it being a busy season at work and with my campaign before he pats me on the back and tells me he looks forward to seeing me there someday soon.

Having a pastor’s attention fixed solely on me makes me start sweating, and I have to remove my suit coat and gulp my water down to cool off. The funny thing is though, there’s a part of me that actually wants to maybe go with Lydia sometime. Like on a regular Sunday. Not just Christmas and Easter.

After dinner, the dancing starts up, and I watch with everyone else as the bridal party takes the floor.Lydia is dancing with Luke’s brother, and she throws her head back and laughs as he whispers something in her ear. I consider marching over and cutting in, then tell myself to calm down. It’s just a dance. Lydia and I don’t even have a real marriage, so what am I getting bent out of shape about?

The DJ invites the rest of the guests to join the bridal party on the dance floor, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as a young woman comes over and takes Lydia’s place with Luke’s brother. Lydia smiles and steps back, ready to make her way off the dance floor, but before I can second guess myself, I stand and bolt over to the dance floor.

“Can I have this dance?” The words come out in an embarrassing squeak, but Lydia doesn’t laugh. Instead she just nods, and I watch in satisfaction as a blush of pleasure creeps up her neck. As her hand settles into mine, I pull her close, inhaling the scent of her.

We’re silent for a few beats, then Lydia speaks.

“So, you cut it a little close today.”

“Yeah.” Somehow in the chaos of things I’d forgotten all about my late arrival. “Sorry about that. Let’s just say Ashley wasn’t too happy to have me duck out on her. Then when I got here the parking situation was a bit of a mess. I ended up four blocks away.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I should’ve reserved a spot for you.”

“It’s fine.” I’m taken aback by her apologetic tone.Usually, she’d just tell me it served me right for cutting things so close. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Lydia sounds nervous as she goes on, “So, uh, do you and Ashley always handle clients together?”

“Well, she and I started at the firm together, so we landed a lot of our clients together. Plus, our boss really likes the way we work as partners, so he tends to pair us off a lot.”

“Oh…right.” Lydia nods a few too many times for it to be natural, and instead of looking at me her eyes dart around the dance floor.

“Does it bother you that Ashley and I work together so much?” I venture.

“What?” Her voice is shrill. “No, of course not. Why would it bother me?” She lets out a little laugh.

The song we’ve been dancing to comes to an end, and the DJ announces it’s time to pack the dance floor and get our Cha Cha Slide on. As the first few notes of the song play, Lydia laughs, breaking the tension between us, and I can’t help but laugh too as all around us people settle into the groove of the song. Directly in front of us an older woman, who I recognize from the rehearsal dinner as Jamie’s grandmother, sings along to the opening, “We’re going to get funky,” and Lydia and I laugh even harder. Then everyone takes off to the left, and we hurry up and join in.

The DJ keeps us busy over the next thirty minutes, following up the Cha Cha Slide with a conga line, then instructing everyone to grab apartner and form a dance tunnel as he plays Chris Browns’ “Forever.” Together couples dance through the tunnel, showing off their best moves. Even Jamie’s grandma goes through, this time joined by her husband who’s got on a top hat and tails like he’s Fred Astaire.

When it gets to Lydia and me, she grins at me, before leading me into the center and breaking into the twist with a confidence I’ve never had on the dance floor. Everyone is cheering her on, and I’m overcome with the desire to impress her. So, when she turns to face me, I impulsively grab the top hat off the old man’s head and place it on my head, garnering wild cheers from the crowd. Feeling ridiculously stupid, but also buoyed by the response I’m getting, I tug her towards me, then put my arm around her waist and dip her down to the floor. As we come up, I twirl her around until she ends up folded in my arms. I forget about the people watching as I hold her close. Her eyes are shining with mirth, but as they meet mine her laughter fades, and her lips part in invitation.

But then a second later, she clamps her mouth shut and gently pushes herself off me. We’ve reached the end of the tunnel and she looks up at me sheepishly. “I have to go,” she stutters, “to the bathroom, I mean.” She indicates her belly. “Pregnancy is fun like that.” Without waiting for my reply, she dashes away, leaving me feeling like Prince Charming when the clock struck midnight.

---