Page 28 of The Christmas Cover Rule
“You just said I was a member of the bar. Which is exactly how I know that crashing a wedding—on its own—isn’t a crime.”
She worries on her bottom lip, twisting a thick gold ring around her middle finger, while her eyes dart from me to the party. This might not have been how I planned to speak with Diego, but I’m out of time, and this is all I’ve got. I cup her worried face between my hands, and I can’t help but smile at the way her shoulders immediately relax.
“Come on, Stell. Try not to outshine the bride.”
Knowing I can’t just storm through the reception with my head on a swivel, I calmly make my way out onto the dance floor. When I find a spot, I turn around and pull Stella against me so we’re chest to chest.
Her eyes widen momentarily, but when my hand finds her lower back, and hers rests on my chest, she hits me with that smile made of a thousand sunbeams.
I recognize the rendition ofLike I’m Gonna Lose Youplaying right before I look down and marvel at the woman in my arms. Her body is seamless against mine, like she was always meant to be here. I inhale her sweet coconut scent, drop my forehead to hers, and lose myself in her as we continue to sway back and forth to the music.
“This might be the most beautiful reception I’ve ever seen,” she marvels. “The lights, the flowers.”
“I haven’t noticed any of it.”
She looks up at me, her eyes bouncing between mine, and even though my gaze never lets go of hers, I catch how she forgets to breathe for a second.
In this moment, for all the money in the world, I couldn’t tell you what I’m doing or how I got here, only that I’d rather die than be anywhere else. Her pulse greets mewhen I cup the sides of her neck and brush my thumb along her bottom lip. Her mouth parts, and her chin lifts just slightly, something I’ve noticed she does after getting lost in thought, but then remembering how fucking incredible she is.
I could blame it on the romantic setting, the waves brushing the shore in the background, or the fact that I’ve been lying to myself for days, but I don’t need an excuse anymore. I want Stella in all the ways that she’ll have me, and I’m ready to say it with my whole fucking chest.
I use my hold on her neck to angle her face a fraction of an inch higher. My pulse thrums in my ears, a steady beat to the swell of the music. My entire world narrows to just the curve of her lips, and every nerve in my body tightens in anticipation as I dip my head toward her. Her eyes fall closed, my fingers flex, and the dance floor, the music, the entire goddamn island fades to the background. Her cool breath grazes my lips, and then falters on a shaky inhale when the crowd erupts in applause.
Heat floods my chest when her eyes open to find mine, and I curse the DJ and every clapping hand in the place.
“Should we grab a drink?” Her voice is soft and breathless as she takes a careful step back, giving herself a little space.
I shouldn’t care that the song is over, effectively ruining the moment. I want to pull her back in and say ‘fuck it’. I want to hold her head between my hands and crush my lips to hers. I want to pick her up off this dance floor, carry her across the sand, and back to our room, all while never letting our kiss break. I want to strip her clothes off and do everything I’ve been thinking of doing with her all week.
Instead, I run a hand over my smile, placing my other hand on her lower back again, and ignore the burn at the touch as I guide us over toward the bar.
Stella orders two drinks, and I drop probably one toomany pesos into the tip jar before meeting her at the tabletop nearby.
“Excuse me.” A man in a suit so impressive that even I can appreciate it reaches across me for a napkin. “Sorry about that.” He smiles.
“No worries.”
“Are you here for the bride or the groom?” the man asks, setting his drink down.
I take a quick glance at Stella, whose immediate panic is written all over her face, and I smile, because even though she looks like she’s about to faint, she’s still cute as fuck.
I drape a lazy arm over her shoulder, silently telling her, ‘Don’t worry, babe, you’re with a professional. ’
“The bride.” I offer him my trademark grin.
“Ahh. Wonderful. Me too. How do you know Violeta?”
“We’re old friends with Mr. Grosso.” I take a slow sip of my drink before nodding to him. “And you?”
“The same, actually. I’ve been Diego’s personal lawyer and his company’s lawyer for years now.”
I don’t even have time to blink before the realization hits me like a freight train. My throat tightens as everything clicks into place. Diego Grosso didn’t bring his lawyer out here to fire him. The man brought out someone he not only works with but also someone he deems important enough to celebrate family events with.
While everything I’ve been brought out here to accomplish crumbles at his words, I’m still a professional, so I smile and lift my glass to him.
“Wonderful.” I take a drink. “Would you excuse us?” Despite the cool humming in my veins, the fire is still there as I guide Stella out and away from the reception. My hand on the small of her back is the only thing keeping me grounded currently.
We make it out to the sidewalk, where it’s no longer lit bythe lights from the party, and I keep going. Kicking off my shoes when they sink into the sand, I walk until my feet hit the water. I run a frustrated hand through my hair, fighting the disappointment I feel at letting everyone down. From a strictly logical perspective, I know this isn’t my fault. I know this was an oversight on all of us.
