Page 8 of The One I Love
“Nice to see you too, Simon.” I let go of my dress and take a second and smooth it down. When I look back up, I can’t help but feel Shane’s stare. “Hey there.”
I see him swallow a lump in his throat. “You look beautiful.”
My body becomes heated with his compliment. “Thank you. You clean up well yourself. You all do.”
It’s not that I’m lying when I say that, but I needed to throw the rest of them in there. Because Shane Cunningham is hot every day of the week. Whether it’s in his police uniform or casual clothes, the man turns heads. But in a suit? The man is downright delectable.
He’s going to have every single woman at this wedding tonight drooling over him. And he’s probably not going to even notice.
“Thank you for noticing, Amelia,” Simon says as he gives a pull to his jacket. “I was hoping for a better bridesmaid selection.”
I look back to where Betsy and Mariah are standing. “Sorry to disappoint. It’s just us.”
“I mean, I could see what Betsy?—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Wes growls.
Simon smiles. “One of these days, fucking with you is going to get old. Today isn’t that day.”
Wes elbows Simon a little as they sit down. It’s then I look over to Oliver, who looks like a lost puppy. I take him aside so I can whisper to him without the guys hearing. “You okay?”
He shakes his head. “Shannon broke up with me.”
“Oh no,” I say as I rub his arm. “What happened?”
“What do you think?”
“Sweetie, did you propose again?”
He looks away. “I didn’t mean to. I swear.”
“You never do.”
Oliver turns away and goes to sit down, leaving Shane alone.
I love all of the guys. I have a special bond with each ofthem. But Shane and I are on a different level. Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other since birth. Maybe it’s because the man became my protector in fourth grade and never stopped.
And yes, there was that whole kiss thing. But that was many moons and lifetimes ago. An emotional response to an emotional night. It meant so little that neither one of us have spoken of it since that night.
No. It’s not that. The bond Shane and I share is built on years of friendship, respect, and family that’s not blood. He’s my safe space. My go-to. My person. Which means most of the time I can ignore that the man looks like a Greek god. Today is not one of those days.
“Mom! Uncle Shane!”
I’ve never been more thankful to hear my daughter’s voice. “Hey, sweetie.”
“The wedding planner says it’s time to head back.”
“Oh,” I say. “Thanks.”
“Wait! We need pictures!” Out of nowhere, my daughter produces her camera. “Hurry. Smile!”
The three of us lean in for a selfie. I don’t know how Mariah takes them so effortlessly. I try and it looks like I have six chins and my eyes are crossed.
“Good. Now you two.”
I look at Mariah, then Shane, then back to Mariah. “Us?”
“Yeah. Documented proof of Uncle Shane wearing a suit and Mom wearing a dress.”
