Page 72 of Where Happiness Begins
I know I should be bringing my attention to the front as I approach the end of the aisle, but there’s no way I can break the contact when he’s looking at me like that. Like maybe he’s feeling as out of control as I am.
When I reach his row of chairs, I finally get over my shock and smile at him because I’m so freaking happy he’s made his way to me.
And when he gives me a subtle grin back, I know I’m done for.
“You clean up well, husband.”
Carter turns from where he’s grabbing a soda at the bar, and somehow, he looks even better from up close. I’m not sure where this suit comes from, but I know I want to see him in it again and again.
He doesn’t answer, only walking my way with a second drink in his hands. When he hands it to me, his eyes rake over my body, and even if he doesn’t say the words, I know he’s returning the compliment.
The ceremony has just ended, and instead of leaving to take pictures, Lexie and Finn have already joined the party, music blaring under the white marquee. Finn’s twirling Lexie around, the two of them laughing out loud like kids.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, trying to sound casual. I want to jump on him, hug him like I haven’t seen him in a year, but I also don’t know how that would be received. He might be thinking about the last time we saw each other, when only a fogged-up room and heavy breaths separated us. I’d be okay if we never brought it up again, but he might have a different thought about this.
Carter’s throat bobs, but before he can answer, the music switches to a Beyoncé song I adore. I gasp, then grab his hand. “Want to dance?”
His brows draw together at the sudden change of topic, the question, or both. Then he gives me a small shake of his head. “I’m good.”
I shrug, then join the newlyweds and the rest of the guests who fill the dance floor, immediately starting to dance with a group of people I don’t know. I’ll get answers from Carter later.
I move my hips to the rhythm, eyes closed and head tossed back. The day smells like pine trees and freshly mowed grass, and the end-of-summer breeze is a delight against my skin. I continue dancing as we roll into the next song, and when someone takes my hand, I go with it. I laugh, hair loose as one of Finn’s cousins, a short guy with a mop of brown hair, twirls me around, but my spin ends abruptly when two large hands catch my hips. The guy looks behind me and immediately lets go of my hand. I don’t care, though, not when all my attention is now on the bergamot smell coming from behind me.
Carter squeezes my hips before he says, “The things you make me do, Fireball.” And then he begins moving with me.
The fabric of his dress shirt brushes the bare skin at my back, making me gasp. There’s no reason for this to feel so intimate, but the simple movement of his hips against mine, of the tips of his fingers so close to my panty lines, brings images back to me I’ve tried desperately to forget. Carter naked, touching himself, burning me with his stare as he comes undone. Sweat gathers atmy nape as his breath caresses my shoulder, then my neck. He’s so close, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more.
When the song ends, it switches to a slower one, forcing me to spin so I can wrap my arms around his neck. It’s such a bad idea, but I can’t help myself. He doesn’t hesitate either, lifting his hands from my hips to my waist, never letting go of my body. Then he starts swaying to the soft music, bringing me with him.
“You didn’t answer me earlier.” I crane my neck so I can meet his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
His cheek twitches. “My job on the tour was done.”
That’s BS. His work isn’t done as long as the band’s second album isn’t done, and even if it was, he wouldn’t need to come here, to my friends’ wedding. No one knows me here. It’s not like we need to keep up with our marriage pretense.
My hands slip from his neck to his shoulders. “What are you really doing here?”
His gaze searches my face, from my brows to my lips to my nose, then back to my eyes. Then, as softly as a breath, he says, “I missed you.”
Three simple words that mean an entire universe. He doesn’t need to say anything else. It already means everything.
Applause breaks into the room, probably as Lexie and Finn kiss, but I don’t move my gaze away from him. This man who followed me back home because he wanted to spend more time with me.
My lips curl up. “I’m really glad you’re back, Andy.”
Chapter 30
I’ve never danced this much in my life.
The relief I feel when I tug my shoes off as I walk inside my place is endless. It’s barely 1:00 a.m., but after Lexie and Finn disappeared from the dance floor—her on his shoulder, him running across the field of trees toward the little cottage they’d kept for themselves for their wedding night—I grabbed Carter’s hand and figured the party was over. I’d exerted myself enough anyway, dancing the night away with my friends and with the man who’d said he didn’t want to dance.
“I need to burn these,” I say as I let my shoes fall to the ground and stretch my feet against the carpeted floor.
“Should’ve removed them a long time ago if they hurt you,” Carter says, taking his jacket off. I almost pout. He looked so good in it.
“But they make my legs look really good,” I say over my shoulders with a wink.
He keeps a straight face. “They’d look good regardless.”
