Page 66 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

Valerie was busy with food, some pastry to be precise, but our greetings had been cordial. She politely ignored my downing of liquor while I politely hid my irritation over her rough use of my rolling pin. A shot of Absinthe, followed by two shots of whiskey had my eyes streaming, but the burn was acceptable, and the buzz wouldn’t take long now. I blotted the moisture from my eyes with a kitchen towel, tossed it, then washed my hands before inhaling and exhaling deeply. My chi was now centred.

When I exited the kitchen, Matt was waiting for me with a small frown on his face.

“What were you doing?” He held an arm out for me. I took his arm and shrugged. “Did you just have a drink?” he asked, leaning in close enough to sniff around my mouth. “Madison!”

I kissed him, swapping my boozy saliva for his non-boozy one. “One hour.”

Matt tucked my arm tighter in the crook of his and led us down the hallways without replying. When we entered the salon, a loud cheer of congratulations came our way.

Moments before our unexpected guests swarmed us, my new hubby whispered in my ear, “Maybe less, stop scowling.”

I grinned like a fool and readied myself as Hannah reached us first.

“Hi,” I gushed as we hugged, but my gaze was trained on Medusa who was heading towards us with a man on her arm. Her blue eyes connected with my brown eyes over Hannah’s shoulder. The alcohol buzz was tentatively taking root and my chi tilted, no longer centred. Louisa looked like a delicacy in that dress. Damn. Maybe I should have changed after all. She looked munch-able and I couldn’t forget Matt used to dine on everything she had to offer. A whole hour? Definitely less…

CHAPTER 7

“You dance reallywell.” I grinned as Matt spun me around before pulling me back into his arms. “I’ll even admit you’re better than me,” When he chuckled smugly I hastened to add, “In regards to ballroom dancing that is.”

We were avoiding the many other couples on the polished dance floor, favouring the privacy afforded next to the elaborate columns.

“What time shall we leave, poppet?” Matt asked with a decided huskiness that did nothing to hide his unspoken intent. The lecherous waggle of eyebrows confirmed my husband had boinking on the mind.

“We can’t leave before the bride and groom,” I smoothed back an errant lock of hair from his face. “And you’re drunk.”

“I’m not.” he muttered back, but the flushed cheeks and glazed eyes told a different story.

There had been many toasts to the happy couple and the drinks were flowing at what was to date the wedding of the year. Honestly, I suspected Matt was still recovering from Nathan’s stag do two days ago. I had woken up that morning to find him sprawled atop the covers fully dressed bar one shoe and sock. Not only reeking of alcohol but of cigars and expensive perfume with smudges on the collar of his shirt. A pinkish sort of smudge which he denied was lipstick upon interrogation when I returned home that afternoon. He also vehemently denied the presence of hot strippers at the private party, yeah, he knew I would tattle to Bella if there had been any. Her hen do was a civilized event with waiters and sparkling champagne. Secretly I felt cheated, no one got legless and there were no party games.

“And even if I was,” he continued. “It doesn’t matter as neither one of us is driving tonight.”

He had a point there and I wondered if the limo driver was bored waiting for the night’s festivities to end. It must suck being a driver.

“Blimey, is it just me or is it hot?” Matt paused to tug at his bow tie, causing the thing to unravel. I sucked my mouth in to stop the snicker. Hubby was totally wasted.

“It’s still February, hon,” I drawled, reaching up to pull the loosebow tie off and tucking it into my purse. “Do you want to go for a walk outside? To cool off?”

He brightened up at the suggestion. “Somewhere secluded perhaps?”

I smiled at him, he was persistent if nothing else; and we were still newlyweds in a manner of speaking.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” I teased.

Matt lowered his head. “I’m not drunk,” he whispered across my lips before snogging me cross-eyed. “And you’re beautiful tonight.”

“As opposed to every other night?” My deadpan expression had him blinking quickly, trying to avoid the trap.

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.” Matt admitted in defeat, resting his forehead against mine as I laughed in delight.

“Let’s go find a seat somewhere,” I stepped back from the warmth of his hold but only to wrap one arm around his waist and lead us forward. “I think Bella looks amazing. Oh and that best man speech of yours was hilarious. Did Nathan really wax his whole body just to win a bet or did you make that up? I mean, a back, sack and crack is alright in my books, but his whole body? That seems wrong.” I shuddered at the thought as Matt took charge of the direction we headed. For someone under the influence, he moved with perfect balance.

“He was as bald as a new born baby,” Matt confirmed, adding a very dry, “Everywhere, poppet, omitting above the neck of course; and that last comment of yours makes me wonder about you.”

Eww. I did not need an image in my head of what Nathan’s hairless body would look like. Thank God this embarrassing incident had taken place in their early twenties. Bella’s face during Matt’s best man speech had been priceless, while Nathan’s had been the telling shade of humiliating red.

“I dread to think of the things you guys got up to.” I retorted a tad self-righteously. “I was raised better.”

Matt’s left eyebrow popped up. “Pardon? This from someone who Iknow-”

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