Page 6 of Snow Place Like Home
It was probably the green eyes, dark wavy hair, and broad shoulders that people found distracting.
He was the whole package, and he could be very persuasive.
We’d just finished dinner, and Poppy and I were standing near the dance floor, per my brother’s insistence, as they had a big surprise to unveil.
My dad’s boss, Harry, moved in our direction.
“Oh no, incoming,” Poppy whispered in my ear.
He’d approached us numerous times in his costume, which consisted of a too-tight tan tracksuit and a wire around his head that had a piece of mistletoe attached.
Yes, Harry, who was thirty years our senior, had attempted to kiss both me and Poppy multiple times, along with every other woman at the rehearsal dinner. He held out a piece of peppermint candy, just as he had before dinner. “Ladies, it looks like you have an opportunity to step under the mistletoe.”
Poppy and I reached for the red-and-white hard candies and popped them in our mouths, though we had no intention of stepping under that mistletoe.
“Three strikes and you’re out, Har-Bear,” Poppy said. “I told you, I feel like I’m getting sick, so there will be no mistletoe kisses for me tonight.”
Harry had a super-thin mustache, and he smirked at me. “And what about you, Goldie? Is it true that you’re finally single?”
Before I could respond, Ace moved beside me, his fingers wrapping around my arm. “We’re being beckoned to the dance floor.”
My stomach dipped and I smiled up at him, grateful for the save.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was in the middle of a conversation, Ace,” Harry grumped.
“Hey, Harry, long time no see. But I suggest you pace yourself. That mistletoe won’t make that mustache of yours any less creepy,” Ace said, his voice playful, but the look in his eyes was telling a different story.
He was irritated with Harry.
The older man blinked a couple of times and then chuckled, the insult going right over his head.
Just as Ace whisked me out to the dance floor, Poppy let a loud laugh before claiming she had to use the restroom.
“Yes. We’ve got our best man and maid of honor, Ace and Goldie. Ace came dressed for this particular song, so let’sall get down to one of my all-time faves ... ‘Gettin’ Jiggy wit It’—or, even more fitting, ‘Gettin’ Grinchy wit It,’ y’all!” Dwayne Holcomb, the live singer performing both tonight and tomorrow, shouted into the mic before breaking out in song. He changed the lyrics to fit the holiday theme.
“Dear God, is he singing ‘Gettin’ Grinchy wit It’?” I asked as Ace pulled me against his hard body.
“Just roll with it, Sunny.” He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I believe they’ve picked a song for everyone standing up in the wedding tomorrow, so your turn is coming.”
The rest of the wedding party joined us on the dance floor, and I had to laugh. “These two never miss a beat.”
“Never.” He winked. His green eyes met mine, and my stomach dipped. Ace was a good foot taller than me, standing six foot four, with broad shoulders and the most handsome face I’d ever laid eyes on. He had just the right amount of scruff peppering his perfectly square jaw. The man was sinfully good looking, and I forced myself not to stare as he continued swaying us to the music. My legs grazed against his thick thighs, and I had to concentrate on keeping my breathing under control.
Dwayne continued belting out the words. “‘Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah ... Gettin’ Grinchy wit it’!”
The guests were having a great time singing along, and it was impossible not to laugh.
“I can’t wait to see what song they chose for me,” I groaned as I pushed up to speak close to his ear, the smell of mint and sage flooding my system.
It had been such a long time since I’d been attracted to a man.
Hell, the last few years with Joshua had been passionless. In hindsight, he’d done us both a favor, even if I didn’t agreewith the way he’d gone about it. But if I was being honest with myself, we’d just been going through the motions for the last few years. I’d been stuck and unable to see that I wasn’t happy.
“I’m sweating like a fucking animal in this costume,” he said as one hand rested on my waist and we continued to sway to the beat together.
“‘Gettin’ Grinchy wit it,’ Ace!” Leslie Peterson shouted across the dance floor, her words slurring. We both turned in her direction.
Leslie was one of the bridesmaids. She’d shown up wearing a sexy cat costume and a strand of lights around her neck, claiming she was a holiday kitty. I glanced over to see her prowling in our direction.
