Page 55 of Aisle Come Back to You

“God, Blair. I’m so glad you’re mine,” he says in a breathless whisper as he rests his head on top of mine, our chests rising andfalling together as one as we both work on calming our racing hearts.

As much as I want to be his, and in so many ways already am, there’s still so much that we need to work out. Sure, we have amazing chemistry; the sex is mind-blowing, and he’s officially getting divorced, but how does a relationship between traveling photographer and a man living in her nightmare of a town actually work?

However, I push those thoughts aside—at least for now. “Me too,” I say instead, needing to savor this moment for as long as I can.

28

Ford

Ican honestly saythat I’ve never been invited to a bachelorette party before, and if this ends up being my one and only, I’m more than okay with that.

It doesn’t help that Gemma and Maeve, the other two bridesmaids, are my coworkers. Gemma is a few years younger than us and works as the drama and dance teacher, and Maeve is at least a couple of years older and is one of the school counselors. After all the dick memorabilia I’ve already seen at the “the pre-party”, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to look either of them in the eye ever again. Without a doubt, the women found it utterly hilarious, which only adds to the fact that I couldn’t keep my cheeks from turning a bright shade of red.

You’d think that being the only one at tonight’s event with an actual penis would make me okay with seeing them everywhere, but nope, it only added to my utter embarrassment, especially when all the women chanted and coerced me into participatingin a game of Pin the Penis on Pete. Ultimately, Ronnie is having the time of her life, though, and that’s all that matters.

Even more, Blair officially solidified her position of knowing Ronnie best as she decided that after the pre-party we’d head to the next town over for line dancing, with everyone dressing accordingly.

Despite my efforts to get into character, my red plaid button-up shirt, jeans, boots, and cowboy hat do little to make me stand out, especially compared to the rest of the women in our party. They’ve given it their all, and Ronnie is definitely the center of attention in her short, white, sparkly dress with the dress’s long fringe adding an extra flair that swishes and sways with her every step. Then, of course, she topped it off with a matching white hat and boots. Thanks to the bride-to-be sash provided by Blair, she’s spent the majority of the evening bombarded with offers from men to buy her and the rest of the bridesmaids drinks.

Blair is the one I can’t keep my eyes off of, though, and for good reason. Dressed in a short black skirt embellished with rhinestone stars, she turns heads wherever she goes. To finish her outfit, she’s wearing a black halter crop top that shows a perfect sliver of her porcelain skin, along with a matching cowboy hat and boots.

It’s both gratifying and slightly unsettling to have the woman whom so many men fantasize about be mine, evoking a mix of jealousy and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. I hate being that guy. Blair looks amazing and deserves to show off her body in whatever capacity she wants, but I can’t help the primal instinct that wants to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back to my place, and show her why I’m the only man for her.

As much as that is also not me, I know it wouldn’t bode too well. It wouldn’t just upset Blair; Ronnie would be furious and kill us both if we left her on her big night. On top of that, I’m thedesignated driver. That’s not much of a change, but the fact that I drove all the women here in the back of Maeve’s soccer mom van is a new one for me.

“You know, I’m starting to suspect I was only asked to be your bridesman so I could drive you around and be in charge of grabbing drinks,” I yell above the loud country music blasting from the speakers as I carefully attempt to set down the shots on the table while doing my best not to spill any.

“That, and the fact that you look so darn cute in your lil’ cowboy hat,” Ronnie teases, her baby voice coming through as she playfully pinches my cheek, clearly feeling some of the effects of the free shots she’s been gifted.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, pushing her hand away as I adjust the hat on my head.

“That, and the fact that we’re likely going to need a big strong man to carry us all to the car if we keep taking all these shots,” Gemma adds with a small laugh.

I can’t disagree. These ladies are well on their way to getting drunk, especially since they’re getting dangerously close to that point of being more than just a little buzzed.

“Well, I’m not so sure one would actually classify me as a big strong man, so if you did decide to slow down I wouldn’t be opposed,” I joke. Obviously, I’m not about to police anyone, but I am only one man, after all.

“Well, maybe you should take a break from drink-grabbing duties and come dance with us instead,” Blair suggests, reaching for my hands as she walks backward, pulling me with her toward the dance floor.

I vehemently shake my head as I dig my heels into the floor. “Sorry. Not a chance. You know I’m not a dancer. Hell, I’m pretty sure the last time we danced was at senior prom, and I almost broke your ankle in the process.”

She scoffs. “Oh, come on. You aren’t that bad. Please,” she begs, pouting out her bottom lip for dramatic effect. Between that and her beautiful blue puppy-dog eyes, I almost give in, but instead, I pull my hands out of hers.

“Sorry. I’ll do just about anything for you all tonight, but that is where I draw the line.”

“Boo!” Ronnie chants before the others chime in as well.

“Fine, be lame,” Blair gives in, sticking out her tongue at me before reaching for Ronnie’s hand, who gladly accepts. Ronnie reaches out, interlocking her fingers with the other ladies as they form a small, human chain. They make their way to the dance floor, their footsteps immediately stepping into sync with the beat of the blaring music as they catch on quickly and immediately join the rest of the dancers in a synchronized dance to some Ed Sheeran song.

I watch in awe as the people move on the dance floor, truly not understanding how everyone can move so in sync. Admittedly, some newcomers take a bit longer to catch on, but it’s remarkable how soon they seem to find their rhythm and join the group so seamlessly.

I, on the other hand, was not blessed with any sort of rhythm. I’ve always struggled with the physical stuff, especially those that require any sort of strength or coordination. There’s definitely a reason that I stuck to books and science; dance moves on the other hand—not my thing.

I wish things were different, and that I could be the kind of guy who couldn’t care less about how I’d look out there, especially since I know Blair would love it. Not only is her face currently beaming with enthusiasm and pure joy, but whenever she’s around music, it’s like she enters an entirely different universe where she can let go and forget about everything else as a truly carefree side of her emerges.

On the bright side, as I sit on the outskirts at our table, I have the absolute best view in the room as my eyes refuse to leave Blair. I’ve always found it easy to get lost in staring at her, but now, as she moves her body to the music, it’s even more captivating. Somehow, she manages to hit every step perfectly, and in my biased opinion, she is undoubtedly the best dancer out there.

Despite her being completely lost in the moment, our gazes meet from across the room, and the smile on her face somehow grows even larger. I lift a hand and wave, and while she asks once again, beckoning me with a nod to come and join, I laugh and shake my head. She may have me wrapped around her finger in so many different ways, but there’s no way she’s getting me out there.

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