Page 21 of Anything for You
A vine of tenderness wrapped around my ribcage and tightened. “Understandable. This is a lot.”
I glanced around, spotting Kenny and Liz on the small dance floor with Elise and Luc, Bruce and Nikki, and a handful of others while the rest of those in attendance laughed and talked. Even in the outdoor setting, the volume from the DJ and the din of conversation was actually quite loud, now that I noticed.
“You’ve done amazing. Go whenever you need. You know Kenny understands.” I didn’t know the man all that well, but I knew he cared about his friends and would never want Dorian to stay if he wasn’t enjoying himself anymore.
He turned and looked toward the raucous dance floor, brow furrowed, empty coffee cup in his hand.
“Can I take this for you?” I asked, gripping the edge of the saucer and then daring to gently rest a hand on his wrist over the cuff of his shirtsleeve. He wore a pair of gray slacks and a white shirt with suspenders and a deep blue tie. He and the other groomsmen had shed their suit jackets after the ceremony.
I’d never seen him dressed like this, but he lookeddapper and yet increasingly like he was crawling out of his skin.
His gaze shifted to where my hand rested and I removed it, slow to realize the contact might’ve been unwelcome or could be adding to his sensory overload.
“Go ahead, Dorian. Take care of yourself.”
His attention shifted back to Kenny and Liz, his expression almost barren in its dread. He’d seemed so unreadable to me in the past when I’d seen him at a distance, but right now, it was like I had some sort of inside track to his thoughts. I could swear I knew exactly what he was thinking.
“How about I let them know you’re leaving?”
He swallowed hard and gave me his stunning eyes.
“Thank you, Dove.” He searched my face for a beat, then released the coffee cup and saucer and stepped back. “Thank you.”
I watched him walk away for a few seconds before I realized that might make this worse and instead shifted gears, burying the flutter in my belly. An unbearable affection for the man bloomed in my chest. Little vines shot up and twined around my ribs, tethering me to yet another moment when the twin desires to protect him and swoon over him took root.
But those thoughts shouldn’t be my focus now, even if they kept creeping in unannounced, so I focused on the here and now. After delivering my plate of desserts and coffee to a table where I’d left my purse, I slid into the fray of dancers and shimmied up to Kenny and Liz.
“Dorian sends his love.”
Kenny’s eyes softened. “I’m so glad he could come today.” He glanced around like he might be able to see hisfriend and give him a final wave, but Dorian was long gone. “I’ll text him.”
Relief punched through me, and my esteem of Kenny Carmichael rose another notch. “Good.”
His eyes narrowed for a flash, then widened when the song switched to one he apparently loved.
“Have fun! I have some lemon tartlets waiting for me.”
Kenny beamed then. “Yes! They’re so good! Too bad he didn’t get to see you enjoy them, but make sure to tell him you loved them, okay? Swing by tomorrow or something?”
I blinked back at the man who’d pulled Liz in for a twirl and then dipped her. My friend was giggling—yes, ex-spy and total badass woman wasgigglingwith happiness as her new husband showed her his moves.
That was my cue. “Of course! Have fun!”
Back at my table, I sat down to the plate of small bites and allowed myself to fully absorb Kenny’s words. It was entirely possible he meant the chef at Silver Ridge Resort. But I had the distinct feeling Kenny meant Dorian had made these desserts.
And I had the wildest burst of anticipation when I decided I would absolutely be giving my compliments to the chef before the weekend was over.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dorian
The knock came early Sunday morning.
When Bear let out a cheery woof and jumped in a circle, I knew to expect someone he liked. Opening the door to find Dove standing there in an oversized T-shirt with a giant Dolly Parton face winking back at me and shorts slightly longer than the hem of the T, my heart rate picked up to a jog.
“Hey, good morning. I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you might be an early riser, and I wanted to check in and see how you are. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, you know, but just because yesterday was a lot, and I know—” A wide, pained smile stretched across her face. “Sorry. I tend to babble when I’m nervous.”
I waited, not sure what to do. Invite her in? There wasn’t quite a question in her speech, and suddenly, I couldn’t remember what on earth to say.
