Page 45 of Second Chance Wedding
She glanced around at the lobby and the groups that had started to form.
“I didn’t realize the ball was happening tonight—or here. Quinley apparently put two and two together and insisted we spend some time in the spa.”
“I heard.”
“Everyone looks so nice.”
He smiled, glad to note some things hadn’t changed in the last fifteen years. Ana rambled when she was nervous, and he’d be lying if he said the tell wasn’t endearing.
He was more than a little nervous himself. Both because of spending the evening with Ana and because of seeing Jones and his team again.
“I’m sensing our meeting might be difficult to have with everyone around, but I talked to Quinley about your…offer. We tossed around a lot of advertising ideas this week, and I hope you’ll like the plan as much as I do. I may use a few of them for the boutique as well. Do you want to go over everything now before things start?”
He stepped forward and extended his arm for her to accept. “Let’s wait and do it another time. We should head inside.”
He easily read the confusion and hesitation on her face. With the business side of things postponed for the evening, that left them where? He’d needed a companion for the evening and pushed his advantage at the time because it felt right and he could, but now? Seeing her in that dress?
He wasn’t sure of anything except the fact he didn’t look forward to being grilled by his former team members about life postmilitary. He was still in the process of adjusting.
But the distraction Ana posed would help him get through the night and the fact that Mannix wasn’t there to celebrate with them.
“Oh, okay. Let me leave this in the boutique for safekeeping then,” she said, moving across the floor where she unlocked the boutique long enough to leave the packet inside behind the checkout counter. She emerged and locked up before joining him again.
Cole escorted her toward the ballroom and was acutely aware of the admiring gazes shot Ana’s way. Jealousy spiked along with pride. “I feel like I need to wrap you up in a tablecloth to keep them from ogling you,” he told her under his breath.
A soft giggle emerged from her, and he nearly swallowed his tongue when she glanced up at him from beneath her thick lashes. That look was…yeah.
“I could say the same for you. Not all of them wear the uniform so well.”
“Blackwell!”
The booming voice drew his gaze from Ana as they followed the crowd into the room. Cole grinned when he spotted Jones.
Jonesie closed the distance with rapid strides and wrapped Cole in a bear hug, pounding him on the back.
“Ah, man, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed your ugly mug. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, Jonesie.”
“And who is this?” Jones asked with an appreciative glance at Analise.
“Watch yourself,” Cole said good-naturedly. “Analise Taylor, this is First Sergeant, uh, SergeantMajor,” he quickly corrected, sighting the latest status change, “Calvin Jones. Congratulations.”
“About time, yeah?” Jones said, giving Cole his cheesiest grin.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Ana extended her hand to Jonesie to shake.
“You as well. I was going to ask what’s had our boy here so busy, he hasn’t kept in touch, but now I see the reason for myself.”
They were joined by other members of Cole’s former special ops team, and Cole was glad to note Jonesie kept things casual considering the celebratory mood of the evening.
A chime sounded along with an announcement to be seated as the social hour was now drawing to a close.
Jones offered Ana his arm and led the way to the tables he had secured.
The group was too large to fit at one, so they’d split into two side by side. Cole noted Ana’s rapt attention as the formal part of the evening began with the presentation of colors by the Color Guard and the National Anthem.
Cole and every marine present saluted while nonmilitary stood silently or with their hand over their heart. The cake cutting came next with pieces given to the oldest and youngest Marine present, and then the reading of the commandant’s birthday message, honors and awards and then toasts.
