Page 16

Roman

“ Y eah, yeah, yeah.” I murmur impatiently under my breath, barely containing my patience with the reading of the vows—which are beautiful. “Get on with it already.” I’m not normally so impatient, but I have a woman waiting for me, and I’m anxious to get to her.

Beside me, my buddy Elias shifts uncomfortably. He looks pale. What is going on with him? He flicks me a glance like he’s checking to see what my problem is. I just shrug, straighten in my seat, and subtly slide my phone from my pocket to check it.

Foot tapping restlessly, I turn my attention back to Rip, who is doing a fantastic job officiating this wedding, but can he not get to the ‘kiss the bride’ part any quicker? I have places to be, fireworks to watch, a certain Mrs. Roper dress to remove.

Jesus, the thoughts of seeing Gabby naked again teases my dick. I shift in my seat, pulse hammering, and—shit—Elias is watching me again. His brow lifts slightly. What, is he thinking weddings put me in the mood or something? Jesus, if he only knew what was really going on.

Gabby.

I can’t believe I ran into her at the pool.

I hate the circumstances, but I’m happy to be there for her.

Last night she needed something from me, and tonight—well tonight, I’m going to remind her just how desirable she is.

The truth is, earlier, when I found her sleeping, I wanted nothing more than to strip her bare, sink into her warmth and make her forget everything that happened.

Even watching her walk around in that ridiculous orange getup nearly undid me. If only we had more time.

But tonight. We have all the time we need. And I plan to make every minute count as I strip her slowly. Worship her body. Watch her eyes darken with pleasure when she realizes that she has nothing to be embarrassed about as I look my fill.

Finish what we started.

“You may kiss the bride,” Rip says and I nearly jump up and scream hallelujah, although it’s still too early for that.

I have a dinner I need to make it through.

After Easton and Jenny kiss, they turn to us and make their way down the long aisle.

Cheers erupt and I grin at my buddy. At least one of the old crew believes in happily ever after.

I honestly hope it works out for them. The guys on my team seem to be happy.

I, however, have no idea what goes on behind closed doors.

Tonight, though, I know exactly what’s about to happen behind mine.

We all follow behind the bride and groom from the room, and spread out in the next room where the scent of roasted meat and warm bread fills the air, but my appetite is locked on to something else entirely. Or rather, someone else.

Sliding into the seat next to Elias, I glance at him. “Are you okay, dude?” I ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ghost.

Ha.

My own little ghost turned out to be sweet Gabby Evans.

“I’m good,” he grumbles, clearly not in the mood for conversation. “What about you? Didn’t I see you chasing after a woman in a wedding dress?”

Shit. He saw that.

Will he put it all together when he sees Gabby with me on the rooftop—dressed as Mrs. Roper?

The server fills my glass with wine, and I take a long, steady drink. “Yeah, an old friend.” He arches a brow and when I turn, he drops the question lingering on his lips. Looks like we both have things we’d rather not talk about.

Fine by me.

Two servers arrive and I wait to see what’s placed in front of me. I can’t remember what I checked off on the invitation months ago. As I wait, I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot Gabby a message.

Me: “How’s my favorite redhead?”

She messages back instantly.

Gabby: Currently living my best life in a luxurious hotel room, sipping a mini bottle of overpriced liquor, and watching reality TV. You?

Me: Suffering through a wedding dinner, pretending to care about chicken or fish while secretly wondering what you’re wearing.

Gabby: I think you mean what I’m NOT wearing.

I chuckle and glance at the plate of chicken placed in front of me, but my appetite is completely obliterated as I think about what she’s NOT wearing.

Me: Careful, Red. Don’t start something you can’t finish.

Gabby: I fully intend to finish. Eventually. You just have to get through dinner, and then fireworks. Oh, and yes, there will be fireworks. In your pants.

Me: You’re evil.

Gabby: You love it.

Me: Debatable.

Gabby. LOL. Eat your meal. I’ll be waiting.

Jesus, this woman is going to kill me. I adjust in my chair, forcing my thoughts back to the table, but it’s useless.

My body already knows what’s coming tonight.

I work to get the stupid grin off my face as I slide my phone back into my pocket, and this time it’s a very pale Taylor who’s watching me.

What the heck is going on with her and Elias?

I don’t know, but this dinner needs to hurry the hell up.

Soon enough, the speeches are given, the cake served and the music swells through the reception hall. Laughter and conversation fill the air, but my mind is elsewhere. Easton and Jenny have their first dance and when the floor begins to fill with guests, I take my chance to slip out.

I move quickly through the hallways, keeping my head down, anticipation humming through me. I take the elevator to my floor and when I reach the door, I slide my key in and step inside, only to find the room…empty.

An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Did she change her mind?

That thought tightens something in my chest. I call out, my voice louder than I intended. “Gabby?”

No answer.

I check the bedroom. The bathroom. Nothing.

I exhale sharply, raking a hand through my hair, but just as I step back into the living room, movement flickers in the corner of my eye.

“Roman.”

Her voice is soft, familiar. I turn to find her stepping in from the patio, the dim city lights framing her body, giving her a ghostly appearance. My little ghost. Her expression shifts as she takes me in.

“Are you okay?” There’s a teasing edge to her voice when she adds, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A quiet laugh escapes me, and the tension in my shoulders ease. “No, I just…” I glance around the room, then scrub a hand down my face, feeling a little ridiculous. “I didn’t know where you were.”

Her lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “I was watching an Elvis wedding on the Strip.” She leans against the doorframe, the neon glow catching in her hair. “It was cute.”

“Oh yeah?” I step closer, watching her.

“Not that I’d ever want to do that,” she adds quickly, but the laughter in her eyes lingers.

I smirk. “Enough drinks, and who knows what anyone will do.”

“I guess that’s true.”

My gaze trails down the length of her, taking in thehideous yet strangely endearingorange dress. It’s ridiculous, but somehow, on her, it works.She works.

“You didn’t mind a Vegas wedding, though?” I ask.

She hesitates. “It wasn’t my first choice.”

I nod, already guessing that it was her ex’s decision. I don’t say his name. I don’t want it lingering between us. Instead, I tip my head, voice gentle. “What is your first choice?”

A slow breath escapes her as I pull her into my arms, her body soft and warm against mine.

“I’m not really sure,” she admits, but there’s something wistful in her tone.

I brush my fingers along the curve of her back. “You’re telling me a woman who wants to design wedding dresses hasn’t spent hours thinking about her own perfect wedding?”

She smiles against my chest, her voice quieter now. “I think the most important thing to me is having the people I love around me. I guess that was always more important than the location.”

Something tugs deep in my chest at that.

“Shit,” I murmur, my hand tracing slow circles on her back. “I never thought about your friends. Did you call them? They knew you weren’t walking down that aisle tonight, right?”

She swallows hard, shifting on her feet. “I don’t really…” Her voice trails off as she takes a small step back, scanning the room like she’s searching for a distraction.

Her gaze lands on the wig, draped over the chair.

She walks over, smoothing her hands over the curls as if the familiar motion steadies her.

“I lost contact with my high school friends when I went to college. Then I met Todd and… well, we’re not exactly friends anymore.

” She lets out a small, humorless laugh before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“After that, I moved to New York. I was working all the time, and I never really had the chance to build many friendships.” She hesitates before looking at me.

“Do you still have friends from high school?”

“A few.”

“You and Rip stayed close. That’s nice.”

There’s something in her voice, a quiet longing . Like she’s spent time on the outside looking in, like she’s forgotten what it feels like to belong.

It’s a gut punch, straight to the chest.

Gabby might not realize it yet, but if she lets them, I know the WAGs will take her in, no questions asked.She won’t have to feel alone anymore.But then again… if she’s only planning to stay in Boston for a short time, maybe she doesn’t want to get too close.

How much of her life did her ex and his father control?

I’m no therapist—hell , I’m not Melanie—but there are some things I can figure out myself.

“Did you eat?” I ask, changing the subject.

She shrugs. “Room service.” I glance around and spot a plate, mostly untouched. “I didn’t have much of an appetite,” she admits.

I nod, filing that away. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty to munch on later. Want to head up?”

“Just a second.”

She hurries over to the mirror, slipping the wig on. Once it’s in place, she slides a finger underneath and scratches at her scalp.

“Itchy,” she mutters. “I’ll be lucky to last an hour with this on.”