Page 56 of Stolen for Keeps
She huffed a wet laugh, dabbing beneath her eyes. “I’m ruining my mascara, aren’t I?”
“Nope.”
“Waterproof for the win,” she scoffed, pulling herself together.
“You look perfect.”
And she did. The dress, the flowers, the love in her eyes when she looked at Nick…it was all perfect. I watched as she stepped forward, her arm linked with her father’s, while Nick stood at the altar looking like a man who’d just had the breath knocked clean out of him.
The ceremony unfolded in heartfelt promises, vows exchanged beneath a Montana sky, and love woven into every glance. It was the kind of moment that made you believe in forever.
After everything she’d faced—cancer, her best friend behind bars—she deserved every scrap of joy life could offer her, and then some.
When Nick kissed her, the guests erupted in cheers. He dipped her, showing off, and Sheryn let out a breathless laugh against his lips. It was a snapshot of everything she’d fought for—happiness, love, and a man who looked at her like she was his whole world.
I clapped along with the rest, ignoring the small ache inmy chest. It was not envy, never that. Only the bittersweet kind of longing. The kind that sneaks up when you realize how much time you’ve lost.
And having a cowboy-turned-groomsman within arm’s reach wasn’t helping.
Every inch of him said heartbreak, and still, I couldn’t look away.
Before I could decide whether Noah was actually flirting or just looking for an excuse to steal my attention, the wind shifted.
The sunlit day gave way to a cool gust sweeping across the valley, rustling through the roses. I shivered, but my priority was Sheryn. I grabbed a wide shawl and covered her.
Nick, ever the doting groom, had already shrugged off his tuxedo jacket, forming a mini umbrella over his bride. His arm tightened around her as the raindrops pattered against the tent. “Thank God for good timing,” he joked, his eyes alight with nothing but joy.
Laughter rippled through the crowd as we all made our way inside the main tent.
With that, the next part of the afternoon began.
The music swelled. The newlyweds twirled at the center of the dance floor, completely wrapped up in each other, the way two people should be on their wedding day. Sheryn was glowing, Nick couldn’t stop grinning, and the whole tent felt like it was spinning on pure joy.
Somewhere between the flutter of nerves and the ache of my bruised stomach, I found myself right where I shouldn’t have wanted to be—wrapped in Noah Lucas’s arms.
“Hello, Blue Storm,” he said as we started our dance. “You look absolutely stunning.”
And he was fucking amazingly unworldly handsome.
“How’s your side?” he asked. He was warm, his grip sure and easy. His other hand rested lightly on my back, guiding me through the movements. His smile reminded me that he would be my saving grace as tiredness crept through me, making sustaining the pain that much harder. “I gotta say,” he murmured, “blue’s still your color.”
I huffed a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Oh, come on. We’re really going back to that?”
“Well, it’s kinda hard to forget.” He smirked. “Y’know, walking into a tent and finding a woman in the middle of a wardrobe crisis. That kinda thing tends to stick with a man.”
I was blushing head to toe, but inside? I was a goner. Because yeah, that moment stuck with me too. “Right. I’m sure it haunts your dreams.”
His thumb brushed my palm as we turned. He was good. Too good. Funny, easygoing, and completely unfazed by the fact that I was carrying enough baggage to fill an airport.
He guided me through a twirl, smooth and effortless, but the moment I spun back into him, pain shot through my side. I sucked in a breath—too sharp, too telling.
Noah caught it instantly. “Hey, you okay?” His voice was low, just for me.
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Yeah. But I really need a breather soon.”
His gaze flicked around, assessing and taking in the rhythm of the other couples. Without missing a beat, he eased our movements into a simple sway. He slid his hands lower, bracing my waist and supporting me without making a big show of it.
This man…he touched my life like a rigged game, conquering impossible odds that made me a winner, whatever he did.
