Page 124 of Most Likely to Deny Love

An awkward silence fell. Helen took a too-large sip of her wine, nearly choking on it.

“The ceremony was lovely,” I offered, trying to ease the tension.

Helen nodded, seemingly grateful for the conversational lifeline. “Yes, the flowers were exactly what Megan wanted. And the music was...” She trailed off, visibly struggling to maintain small talk.

Then her eyes flicked briefly to Mia’s figure, then away. I tensed, waiting for the inevitable critique. But it didn’t come. Instead, Helen seemed to be having some sort of internalstruggle, her knuckles white around her wine glass. “The bridesmaid’s dresses turned out well.”

“Do you think so?” There was a hint of disbelief in Mia’s voice.

“Yes. That color is perfect for you.”

“Um, thank you.”

Helen flushed, clearly writhing in discomfort. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I should check on Megan. I’m sure she needs something.”

With that, she hurried away, leaving Mia staring after her with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“What just happened?” Mia whispered.

I pressed a kiss to her temple. “I believe your mother just tried to give you a compliment, and almost choked on it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought happened. Fuck, that is weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

She considered this, watching her mom fuss with Megan’s train across the room. “No,” she admitted. “Not bad weird. Just... new.”

I squeezed her waist gently. “Progress.”

“Small steps,” she agreed, then broke into a smile. “Now, are you going to dance with your wife, or do I need to find another willing victim?”

“I think I can be persuaded.” I set my drink down and took her hand. “Though I warn you, dancing isn’t my strong suit.”

“Good thing I’m not married to you for your dance moves, then.”

I laughed, leading her toward the dance floor. “What did you marry me for, exactly?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, there was this rumor about ten inches...”

“Mia!” I choked out, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.

She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck pressing herself against me. I held her close as we swayed to the music, just breathing her in.

“Something on your mind?” Mia asked, her cheek resting against my chest.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How perfect this is.”

“Aaw, that’s nice.”

And it was perfect. Not because everything was magically fixed. Helen would likely slip up, old patterns would resurface, there would be more difficult conversations ahead. But Mia was in my arms, strong and radiant and completely herself. We’d weathered worse storms than family drama, and we’d weather whatever came next.

Together.

Mia lifted her head, her eyes soft in the dim light. She reached up, pulling my head down to hers, and kissed me deeply, right there in the middle of the dance floor.

“I love you, Jack Sullivan,” she whispered against my lips.

I tightened my arms around her, feeling the familiar surge of wonder that this incredible woman was mine. “I love you too, Mia Sullivan. Always will.”

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