Page 56 of Grumpy Glitter Christmas
Grant had emerged from the hallway, and the air left her lungs in a rush.
He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that made his broad shoulders look even broader. His white dress shirt was crisp, his bow tie was straight, and his dark hair was swept back in a way that highlighted his sharp cheekbones and that ridiculous jawline. He looked like he belonged in a cologne ad. He looked devastating.
And he was looking directly at her.
Their eyes met across the lobby, and for a moment, the noise of the arriving guests faded to a dull hum. She saw him take a half-step toward her, his expression intense and unreadable.
Then someone called his name—a board member wanting to discuss something—and the spell broke. He nodded at the man but kept his eyes on Felicity for one more heartbeat before turning away.
Felicity let out her breath.
“Well,” Ida said with obvious satisfaction, “that was a look if I ever saw one.”
“Ida,” Ruth hissed.
“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. That man is?—“
“Would you like to go find your seats?” Felicity interrupted desperately. “The appetizers are being passed, and I believe there’s champagne.”
“Champagne!” Ida perked up immediately. “Come on, Ruthie. If we’re lucky, we can get a spot with a good view of the drama.”
They swept into the ballroom, Ida’s holly-sprig hair leading the way.
Felicity was still trying to recover when she heard a familiar, warm laugh. She turned to see Leo and Jade entering together, and her heart did a complicated squeeze.
Leo Carter had cleaned up remarkably well. The plaid flannel had been replaced by a dark charcoal suit that actually fit his large frame properly. His sandy hair was neatly combed, his beard was trimmed, and he looked...
“You look so handsome!” Felicity blurted out.
Leo’s ears turned red. “Jade made me,” he muttered, tugging at his collar uncomfortably.
“I suggested,” Jade corrected, beaming up at him. “He chose.”
They were standing close together, and Jade’s hand was resting lightly on Leo’s arm. Not quite holding hands, but intimate in a way that made Felicity’s chest ache with a confusing mix of happiness for her friend and grief for herself.
“You two look perfect together,” she said, and meant it.
Jade’s smile softened. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” Felicity lied brightly. “You should go in, enjoy yourselves. The beef tenderloin bites are apparently incredible.”
Leo nodded and gently steered Jade toward the ballroom, but not before Jade shot Felicity one more concerned look over her shoulder.
Felicity was greeting another cluster of guests when a commotion near the entrance caught her attention. Several people had stopped mid-conversation, staring.
Brice Matthews had arrived.
And he was wearing a suit.
The sheer improbability of it created a momentary hush. Brice—the human mountain, the man who communicated primarily in grunts, the walking advertisement for flannel and work boots—was wearing an actual, proper, navy blue suit. It was clearly new, clearly expensive, and it fit his massive frame surprisingly well. His beard was neatly trimmed, and someone had convinced him to trade his usual scuffed boots for actual dress shoes.
He looked deeply, profoundly uncomfortable, like a bear that had been stuffed into people clothes.
“Is that Brice Matthews?” someone whispered.
“I didn’t know he owned anything that wasn’t plaid,” someone else murmured.
Brice heard them—he had to have heard them—but he just shoved his hands in his pockets and walked further into the lobby with the resigned air of a man facing execution.
