Page 59 of Heart Strings
I set the tray down and get to work inflating my balloon. I tie the string around my ankle just above a strappy heel. They’re killing my feet, but the outfit is simply not right without them. Besides, the sharp heel will make a marvelous balloon-popping weapon. Aunt Sharon better stay the hell out of my way.
When all the guests have their balloons secured, I give the thumbs-up to Callum and Lark that we’re ready to begin.
“What’s the prize?” Anvi asks.
“B-b-bragging rights,” Callum answers.
Aidan loosens his tie. “Good enough for me.”
After a countdown, the band plays a feverish reel—the signal to begin. Colored lights strobe in time with the thumping drum and energetic fiddle. Chaos erupts around us, with Rory and Saoirse chasing each other while my mom and aunt shout and shriek but refuse to get close enough to risk it.
I charge toward Aidan, grabbing him by the arm to steady myself. He pivots to avoid his balloon being popped, sending me careening into the macaron table directly behind him. Damn heels.
A few confections wobble on a three-tiered display as the surface shakes.
“Shite!” He steadies me with a hand cupped to my elbow. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
With a steady hand, he brushes a rogue lock of hair from my face. Gentle knuckles graze my cheek and my knees liquefy.Ugh, the effect this man has on me. Intensity burns in the depths of his eyes as they lock with mine. He leans in.
Then he stomps.
A loud pop fills my ears and I flinch. Aidan has the most infuriating expression on his face when my eyes open. Cocky and playful. It ignites my competitive side and my libido at once.
“You. Bastard.”
A smirk spreads across his mouth. “No mercy, babe.”
“I am not your babe.” With that, his balloon bursts under my heel. “But if I’m going down, you’re coming down with me.”
Aidan’s palm curls around the nape of my neck and he pulls me into a possessive kiss. My stomach careens as I melt into it.While I’m kissing you, while I’m inside you, you’re mine.
Pops and laughter fill the air, reminding me where we are—on a dance floor, surrounded by guests, including my family. I muster the willpower to pull away from Aidan’s kiss. I’m teetering on the brink of admitting that I like it when he calls me “babe.” My swallow is comically audible.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks. “Oh god, your parents. I forgot.”
There will likely be fallout when my mom gets over her depression stupor and goes back to her micromanaging ways, but she’ll be back in Austin soon.
“Right. Plus, it’s just impolite to suck on your tongue on the dance floor. Imagine us dry humping in the background of these wedding pictures for all eternity.”
“We don’t have to imagine…” he jokes, but a note of unease lingers in his tone.
I straighten my dress and run my finger along my lipliner. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
Saoirse comes out victorious in the balloon melee, raising her arms in the air. We congratulate her and discreetly slip out the large arched doors leading back to the manicured garden and the impressive willow wedding arch.
Up-lights along the stone path highlight the last of the fall leaves. A perimeter of fruit trees mutes the notes of fiddle and tin whistle coming from the reception hall, but I can still make out the band’s rendition of “Boys Don’t Cry.”
“Did you do this?” I ask.
“No, but that would’ve been pretty smooth, huh?”
“Lark must’ve seen that kiss, because it’s unlikely that this track was on their wedding playlist. My cousin loves meddling.”
The song has me sentimental. Blame the spritzers. Aidan hooks a hand around the small of my back and pulls me into a dance. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on his shoulder.
It’s much cooler in the garden than in the reception hall and I shiver. Even with his body heat, I can feel goosebumps rise along my arms. Aidan removes his suit jacket to wrap it around my shoulders. Sandalwood and his body heat envelop me.
