Page 66 of Always Yours

And her sisters…wow. All so gorgeous, all so different. They favor each other, but each has a different style. The younger two seem trendier, like Katarina, with their makeup and tight dresses, while the older two are dressed to impress. But I feel as if they are trying to hide something. I don’t know how to explain it. Though, they are all very beautiful women. I don’t miss the looks of appreciation as they walk out of the church or even the waggle of tongues from my single teammates. Mr. Davenport is a very wealthy man, and each of those girls has dollar signs on them.

Though, I’ve never seen them on Austen.

I’ve only ever seen her.

I sit with my family in the middle of the barndominium Stella and Wes have turned into a flower wonderland. Single lightbulbs hang from the ceiling, flowers draped between them. String lights are everywhere, along with huge light-purple swaths of fabric woven between the rafters. A huge neon sign with “The McMillans” written in cursive lights hangs behind the stage where Stella and Wes sit with their wedding party. Each table holds a mason jar of daises on top of a gold tablecloth. The gold reminds me of Austen’s eyes, and I can’t help but run my finger in circles along the scratchy fabric, wishing like hell it was Austen’s skin I was touching. The room may be rustic, but it’s very classy too. It’s a beautiful space for a beautiful couple, yet they don’t have my attention in the slightest.

I keep glancing over at where Austen sits with her family, the whole group of them laughing. Austen’s face is so bright and playful as she laughs at whatever her younger sister has said. Clara…yes, Clara. I lick my lips as my empty wineglass dangles from my fingers, and I fight the need to get up and head toward her to coax her into that dance I requested. Wes and Stella haven’t had their first dance, so no one is on the dance floor, and I get the feeling it’d be rude if I told them to hurry up.

Or take it upon myself to lead Austen onto the dance floor.

“Dimitri, my love, what has had your attention all day?” Mom asks me, and I look over at her.

Dad tips his head toward Austen’s table. “Brunette in a teal dress.”

Of course my dad knows. Mom looks past me to the table and raises a brow. “Well, she’s very pretty.”

“She is,” I answer, glancing over at Austen. She looks over at the same time I do, and my lips curve at the sides. My smile deepens when her cheeks fill with color. God, I love that look. That stunned, almost in disbelief look she has when I’m looking at her. Admiring her.

“Is she a friend? A romantic friend?” Mom asks in Russian, mostly because everyone is around us, and I know she’s not trying to embarrass me.

I shake my head. “No, just a friend right now.”

“Right now?” she asks, perking her brow. “So, that may change?”

“We’ll see what happens,” I answer honestly, and my mom smiles sweetly at me.

“Good luck, then.”

“He doesn’t need luck,” Dad says. “She’s been watching him as much as he’s been watching her.”

That makes my chest warm as I chuckle.

“How did you meet her?” Mom asks, but when I look back, I find Austen isn’t there. I glance around to catch her heading toward the bathroom. I get up despite my mom’s question and button my jacket as I weave through the many tables. I greet everyone as I pass by, but I don’t stop. I have my eye on one girl and one girl only. When I reach the bathrooms, I lean against the wall to wait, but then I notice Austen is actually on the porch outside. I push off the wall and head out to where lights are hanging and barrels have been placed for people to put their drinks on.

Austen leans on the rail, looking out at the pond as the breeze blows her hair back. I look around and notice no one else is out here, thankfully. I watch her for a second, entranced by her beauty. The slit of her dress shifts in the warm summer air, showing off that she not only has great legs, but that she is also wearing her Nikes. Not that I’m surprised. Austen is all about comfort. She sighs and then looks back at me as if she knew I was there.

“You gonna stand there and stare at me or come look at this view with me?”

My lips tug at the sides. “I’d rather stand here and stare.”

She rolls her eyes, acting as if she doesn’t like my comment, but I know she does. I start toward her and lean back on the rail, looking down at her. She tips her head in the direction of the pond. “The view is that way.”

“The view is right here.” A full, wide smile comes over her lips, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Fuck, that was corny.”

“So much so, but I also set you up,” she agrees, looking out at the pond.

“Totally. It was perfect for a corny response.”

Her lips part as she laughs, and I can’t help but study her. Her hair flows ever so gracefully around her shoulders, and I want so much to wrap a strand around my finger. The way her lips press together and her breasts are full and mouthwatering, it’s really the slit that has me wanting to cop a feel of what I know to be a round ass cheek. She looks up at me from under her lashes, and I can’t help but smirk at her.

Then we both laugh. It’s so easy, so free.

As our laughter subsides, she says, “So, today was a lot.”

“It was,” I agree, tucking my hands into my pockets to keep from snatching her up with my fingers. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just messing around.”

“I know, but I was embarrassed, and I hate feeling like that.”

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