Page 89 of Worthy

″Ahem,” the minister clears his throat. “You’re skipping ahead, son.”

″Sorry.” I shrug as the guests try to stifle their laughter. “I’m really anxious to start calling him my husband.”

Maddox turns red, but his grin tells me he feels the same.

″I understand.” The minister smiles warmly. “Dearly beloved,” he bellows to the guests, and my future begins.

***

Sloan

I spot him slipping into the back row just before the procession starts, and instead of focusing on the wedding party, I focus on him. I moved in with my sister, Ally, about the same time he moved to town, though until last week I hadn’t seen him in person. This makes two Carter sightings in two weeks. What are the odds?

He’s mesmerizing in his charcoal suit and black tie. I’d say that’s because he’s the only guy here in a full suit, besides the grooms, but it’s more the way he fills out the suit that catches my eye. It’s clearly not something he bought off the rack, clinging to his frame in a way that accentuates his trim physique.

I’m not really the kind of guy who goes for suits. Fashion is my sister’s thing. And in my experience, most guys look uncomfortable in them, like they’re pretending to be an adult. Lumberjack is more my style, or it was before today, but then I saw how Carter fits in his.

He was wearing a suit the day I was summoned to his office to give him what turned out to be anawkwardmassage. Or rather, he was wearingsuit pants, so I didn’t get the full effect. With the jacket andtie, he looks both graceful and powerful, and that hint of late-day stubble covering his strong jaw adds a bit of rustic appeal.

I sneak another peek at him just as Maddox passes my row. His expression is blank, his posture stiff, though his eyes look a little less serious today than they did in his office. In fact, they almost look warm, making me wonder what’s going through his mind.

There’s no denying Carter’s mystery is part of his appeal. Maddox seems to like him, but of all the people I know in town, he’s the only one to have any regular contact with him. No one knows why Carter picked this ski resort to purchase or what his plans are for it, except maybe Maddox, but he’s under contract and can’t share details of his work.

Similarly, no one knows anything personal about him. Like what are his hobbies? What foods does he like? I can’t imagine what a man like that would do for fun, or what he’d dare place in his mouth.

Part of me wonders, like most of the others in this town, if he’s single. No one has seen him with a girlfriend… or a boyfriend. And as far as the press knows, he’s not married. He so rarely leaves his office at the resort that sightings have become a bit of a game. A Katah Vista style ‘Where’s Waldo’ among the locals

The ceremony begins with a laugh—Cade jumps the gun and kisses his groom before the officiant tells him to—which seems fitting based on what I know of the guy. Before long, I’m wiping away tears as I watch them take their vows. If ever there was an underdog to root for, it’s Cade, the guy who once seemed allergic to relationships and felt like it made him unworthy to be in one. Fortunately, Maddox didn’t judge him based on his past, and now they’re the perfect couple.

Once the ceremony ends, people file out of their chairs and head toward the reception tent. I lose track of Carter in the crowd when I try to wipe away the evidence of my happy tears, but my curiosity has mecasually meandering through the guests, turning my head from side to side in a lame attempt to catch another glimpse. After the massage debacle, this might be my last chance to see him in person, and I don’t want to miss it. Unfortunately, the man is elusive.

I’m about to give up my search when something pulls my eyes toward the gift table. I look up to find Carter staring in my direction, lips pressed in a firm line, offering no clue to what he’s thinking or feeling. Yet, the intensity in his gaze suggests there’s some deep thoughts behind the expressionless mask, and I have a sudden desire to discover every one of them.

Get it together, Sloane. This is still your boss.

Heart pounding, I hold my ground, willing myself not to blink. I don’t know what’s happening, what this little staring contest means, but I’m determined not to be as flustered as I was the other day. And what can I say? I’m desperate to commit this man to memory just in case I never see him again.

Even though I still don’t know what prompted thatinterestingepisode in his office—and likely never will—I don’t have any illusions that his reaction was for me, despite him saying it’s never happened before. And I have to assume it won’t happen again, mainly because I doubt I’ll be invited back.

As the seconds tick by, we hold each other’s gaze, and my mind registers the need to move. I have to do something other than stand frozen in place. My head tilts up a fraction, the start of a subtle up-nod, just as he drops an envelope on the table and spins toward the exit.

Guess I should’ve kept playing statue.

Deflated, I head to the bar for a drink, telling myself this is probably for the best. After all, fantasizing about your boss can only lead to trouble, and in a town this small, trouble is the last thing I need.

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