Page 6 of The House on Firefly Beach
“Are you going to try to catch the bouquet, Mama?” Robby asked.
She squatted down to eye level with her son. “Do you want me to?”
She knew, after her explanation to him that, as legend had it, the person who caught the bouquet would be the next to marry, Robby would be worried. Sydney would love Robby to have a solid father figure in his life, and to witness a happy marriage, but, over the years that his new uncle Ben had been with their family, Robby had bonded with him so strongly that he wouldn’t give anyone else a chance. Sydney had introduced him once to someone she’d met at the coffee shop in town and he’d refused to even say hello. Later, Robby fretted that she was going to get married to the guy, and he didn’t want her to. They’d spent so many years, just the two of them, that anyone moving in on that dynamic would be a major disruption.
“You don’t need to catch it, do you?” he asked.
Sydney glanced over at Nate. “Definitely not.”
Robby grinned.
“I’ll tell you what: I’ll go out there so I can be a part of Hallie’s big night. There are lots of single girls who would love to catch it.” Then she leaned toward him and whispered, “And I’ve already told her not to throw it to me.” No sense in worrying Robby over a silly wedding tradition. “But I’d better hurry so we can get to the cake-cutting, right?”
“Yes, Mama!” Robby pushed her forward lightheartedly.
Sydney hustled out to the group of girls, waving her arms early to give Hallie her coordinates before her sister turned around. Hallie gave her a silent okay and, with her back to Sydney, she raised the flowers into the air. Nate was at the edge of the group, his eyes on Sydney, the garter dangling by his side from his pointer finger. She stared back at him and offered her best don’t-even-think-about-it look while the girls counted down, “Three! Two! One!”
Hallie threw the bouquet, the heaviness of it creating an unforeseen arc. It sailed straight for Sydney. She quickly stepped to the side, the bundle of flowers landing with a thud onto the grass. One of Ben’s cousins scooped it up, waving it in the air.
Sydney offered one more look at Nate before walking back toward Mama and Uncle Hank. On her way to them, a striking man about her age, with wavy blond hair and a friendly smile, whom she hadn’t met before stepped into her path.
“Hello,” he said with a kind smile and gentle eyes. He was strikingly handsome—probably one of Ben’s new singer-songwriters. “Bride or groom?” he asked.
“Uh, bride—technically—but both, really. You?”
“Groom.”
She knew it.
“I’m Logan.” He held out his hand in greeting. “Logan Hayes. And you are?”
“Sydney Flynn.” She returned his handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan.”
“Likewise,” he said, with a smile. “Having a good time?”
Sydney thought about her evening so far, wishing Nate would disappear. “Yes,” she lied.
But there was a flicker in his eye and he tightened his focus on her.
She felt her cheeks flush at his observation. “What?” she said, caught off guard, her pulse rising.
“Your face just went all red.”
“Oh, it’s just my blush. Blame my sister. She did my make-up for the wedding. I had to stop her before she gave me eyelids that rivaled a Jackson Pollock.”
“Mmm,” he said with a chuckle. He looked out at the crowd. “It’s a beautiful wedding. Probably one of the most perfect weddings I’ve ever been to.”
“Yes,” she said, looking over at Hallie who was positively glowing as she nearly floated across the grass from guest to guest in her exquisite gown, Ben on her arm. “I agree.”
“It would be a pity not to enjoy it.” He eyed the dance floor. “Want to go out there?”
Sydney considered Logan’s request as she looked around for Robby. He was at the edge of the yard, playing games with a group of kids, so he wouldn’t notice her. Then she caught sight of Nate. He was standing in a group of people, but his gaze was fixed on her. “I’d love to,” she said, grabbing Logan’s arm and hurrying to the dance floor.
As soon as they hit the dance floor, Logan took her by the hands and moved her arms to the music, spinning her around and pulling her into him. His grip on her was commanding but careful in a way that made her feel completely comfortable. Her satin dress slid up and down against her with the movement of his hands, and she allowed herself to enjoy the night, to relish the attention, and to shut off from everything except for this moment under the rising moon and twinkling string lights.
They danced until she’d forgotten all about her worries. Logan was an enjoyable partner, slipping in little funny comments as they moved to the music of the band. When they finally stepped off the dance floor, he turned to her. “We should get a cup of coffee sometime.”
“That would be nice,” she said, the reality of Robby’s issues regarding men sliding into her consciousness now, making the idea of going on a date more difficult than giving a simple yes.
