Page 56 of A Game of Ruck
Whatever.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
“You ready?”she asks.
I nod, incapable of speech.
Last night, I knew I wanted her, but today?Today, I don’t think I can live without her.
She is so beautiful it hurts to look at her.But I do.
I bear witness, and I don’t take my hand off her waist for anything.
She anchors me.
The ceremony is nice.At least, I think it is.
I couldn’t tell you what the venue looked like or what song the string quartet played as Lisa walked down the aisle.
Hell, I barely noticed when the crowd stood or sat or clapped or gasped.
Because all I can see is her.
Annabeth.
My Angel, on my arm.
Her dark hair is swept up in some mysterious style that seems like magic, but somehow, there it is.Soft tendrils are curling around her cheeks, framing her pretty face and making my heart squeeze inside my chest.
Her lips are painted in a soft berry color that’s driving me insane because all I can think about is how they taste.How they looked wide open screaming my name last night and again this morning.
She glances up at me, a shy smile tugging at her mouth.
My chest expands like I’ve just scored a try from halfway down the field.
I want to kiss her.
I want to drag her back to the suite and remind her that none of this is pretend—not for me.
Instead, I tighten my hand around hers and lean close enough to murmur, “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, Angel, I’m going to carry you out of here before they even sayI do.”
She blushes—God, I love that blush—and squeezes my hand like shewantsme to.
Somehow, we make it through the ceremony.Through the awkward line of people congratulating the bride and groom.
Somehow, I don’t punch David, Lisa’s new husband, when he hugs my girl a little too close.
And more, I manage not to lose my shit when we stand for a slew of family photos, but I do glare just enough to keep Lisa and David from wedging themselves between usfor a second time.
And finally, we’re seated at the reception—round tables dressed in too-white linens and adorned with flowers that smell expensive.
The first course is being served by waitstaff in white shirts and black bow ties.
Annabeth has just picked up her fork, and I’m about to steal a bite from her plate when I feel it.
A shift.
Not loud.Not sudden.
