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“It’s… even if I wanted them to be here, they wouldn’t have been,” I explain. “My dad has never been in my life. I don’t know where he lives or where I would have sent an invitation.”
“Ah. And your mother?”
That’s the part that hurts the most. With my dad, whoever he is, I never knew him. The rejection came before I was old enoughto process it or really get what it meant. He’s an abstract figure in my life at this point, only really notable for his absence. My mother is a different story.
Because I wanted her to love me. As a kid I’d watch movies and TV shows about single mothers and their daughter and how being each other’s only family made their bond stronger. And I waited and waited to reach that point with my own mom, telling myself that once I got older and we had more in common it would happen. But it never did.
“We’re just not very close,” I tell Xavier. It’s easier to gloss over the details of the past, especially on a day like today. “I could have invited her, I guess, but I don’t think she would have come.”
Xavier’s smile twists, but it’s more sympathy than pity on his handsome face. I’ll take that. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of someone clinking silverware against glass.
“Kiss!” someone shouts in the crowd of guests.
The chant grows, people picking it up and spreading it until nearly everyone in the room is calling, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
My face flushes immediately, but when I look to Xavier, he’s grinning.
“Guess we’d better give the people what they want,” he whispers, leaning down.
I swallow past the pounding of my heart, letting myself be swept up in the scent of him. It’s almost soothing, the way it wraps around me, and Xavier’s arms follow suit. He slings an arm around my waist and pulls me in closer, smiling warmly.
I go with it, letting him take the lead, putting my arms around his neck. I’m supposed to be the swooning bride here, and I play the role well enough, I think, laughing when he kisses me lightly and then leaning up into it as the second kiss presses much deeper.
The crowd bursts into whoops and cheers, but it’s drowned out by pulse I can hear pounding in my head. I can’t suppress the full body shiver that goes through me as Xavier’s lips move with mine, or the way I press up, trying to get closer to him.
I know it’s all fake, that we’re just putting on a show for the crowd, but my body reacts to it like it’s real, and that’s—well. It sure is something.
When we break apart, I feel a little dazed, and I’m grateful for the hold Xavier still has on me. He smiles down at me, and I look up, lost in the green, green, green of his eyes.
“Come on,” he says. “I want to dance with my wife.”
Chapter 12
Xavier
Penelope blushes, and it’s a good look on her. She ducks her head, hiding her smile a little bit, but then looks up so I can see it. “All right,” she replies softly.
I grin at her and offer her my hand, leading her out to the dance floor.
Without me even having to do anything, the band changes the music to something easier to dance to, and I settle one hand at Penelope’s waist and hold on to her hand with the other.
It’s clammy, the hand holding mine, and I can feel a tremor go through her body from this close. But she doesn’t back down. She sets a hand on my shoulder and lets me lead her in the dance.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” I ask her, keeping my voice down.
“I don’t know. Nervous, I guess? Well… yeah, definitely nervous. This is bigger than I was expecting, somehow.”
My lips quirk in a smile, and I spin her out before pulling her back to my body. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about,” I tell her. “Every man in here is watching you right now.”
Her eyes flick around the room, and I don’t have to follow her gaze to know I’m right. Everyone has been interested in her sincewe stepped into the reception, and Penelope has been doing a great job of handling herself.
She laughs a little, shaking her head. “That’s just because I’m the bride,” she says. “They don’t actually care about me outside of that.”
It’s a little of that, but there’s a lot more to it really. Penelope has this way about her. She radiates something that draws people in. Maybe it’s her scent or the way she just seems to know how to talk to people without even knowing them or anything about them. Maybe it’s a Southern thing, like her accent when she’s flustered.
Whatever it is, it’s alluring.
“You know, if you weren’t already my wife, I’d be jealous of the attention you’re getting.”