Page 61 of Sew Matcha in Love
“Daddy, Wynnie didn’t steal anything,” Amelie pulled at my coattail. “Why did you say that?”
“Well.” I scrambled for something corny and hopefully light. “Our Wynnie looks so beautiful, she stole my breath away.”
The girls giggled. “That’s silly, Daddy. You’re still breathing,” Isla pointed out. “More pictures!”
By the time the girls were done with us, I was sure I could fill another photo book.
CHAPTER 21
Arwyn
Icouldn’t stop looking at him.
Forget Darcy or Bingley or even Mr. Knightley—Zaki Marsch wastheRegency dream guy. Dressed to the nines in his perfectly tailored kit, the man should have been a supermodel. When I was squished up against him, the hard muscles of his arms and thighs burned through my cloak and gown and made my skin hot.
There were eight other people in the limo—beautiful people—and I couldn’t take my eyes off the man next to me.
Occasionally, I forced myself to turn my head. Xavier and Jason, who’d been away representing the USA, were back from the Olympics, just for the night, and Zaki hung on to their every word. They’d played their qualifying games and now had a few days off during the women’s qualifiers. Penny shone in her new gown, and Lauren glowed in her fifth month of pregnancy. On the other side of Penny, Gabby and Noel’s faces were glued together, and his hand rubbed her belly like it was a genie’s lamp. I had a feeling there would be another announcement coming soon. On the other side of Zaki, their new teammate Flynn and his fiancée, Meggie, were quietly taking it all in.
“Look!” Penny pointed out the side window as the car turned on to the winding road that led to the resort. “It’s like a winter wonderland!”
Brenna Trotter, our town’s premier wedding planner and wife of Edge defenseman Brendan Trotter, had told me about this place in the winter. But her description did the actual scene before me very little justice. The massive exterior with its intricate towers and balconies was bathed in warm, golden light that dazzled in a display of elegance unmatched by anything I’d ever seen. Behind it, the towering silhouettes of the Rockies framed the classic Mediterranean-style buildings. Strings of twinkling fairy lights connected the old-fashioned streetlamps, creating an enchanting and inviting ambience.
Inside, the gilded and marble lobby dripped with wealth and luxury. Outside the ballroom, I removed my cloak at the coat check and handed it to Zaki, who gave it and his overcoat to an attendant. Sadly, formal manners dictated he give over his top hat as well. We proceeded to the step-and-repeat backdrop for photos, which made me a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t too bad.
The ballroom … The ballroom was right out of a Regency novel. Ornate chandeliers, gilded mirrors, and nineteenth-century furniture sets were arranged throughout the space. Long banquet tables stretched from the door to the dance floor, set with towering topiaries, fine porcelain dishes, gleaming silver, and gilded candelabra.
“This is the best research ever,” I whispered to Zaki as we walked arm in arm to our seats. “There are too many distractions for me to think about the crowd, and no one I’ve met so far seems fake or insincere.”
“There are a lot of great experiences outside your comfort zone, Wynna-bun. But give it time—the fake and insincere part,”Zaki murmured into my ear. “Hang with me, and you’ll get your fill.”
I frowned. “Surely, anyone here who’s a fan is sincere about it.”
“You’d think so. But my photo and autograph are commodities. Most people don’t care about the player; they care about the status of being with the player or the autographed item they can showcase or sell. And keep your guard up—they may try to get close to you since you’re close to me.”
“I hate that for you,” I said. “How do you decide who you can trust?”
“You keep your net wide but your circle small. Family, longtime teammates. Teammates’ families. That’s about it. And you nurture those relationships when you get split up. I’ve known Jason and Kingston since the minors. When Kingston went to play in Montana, we got together when the teams played each other. And he invited us up there to visit. Lauren and Viki are still close, and she’s been a good friend even when Viki started to pull away. We don’t let the people we care about quit.”
I turned his last sentence over in my mind. I knew what he was referring to, but it was his marriage that jumped to the front of my mind. It was admirable, the way he’d tried to save it. But ultimately, Viki had quit him.
“Sometimes you have to give up things, Zaki. Things that bring you down. Things you can’t fix. It’s not always quitting. And it’s okay.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. We arrived at our table, and he pulled my chair out for me. On my other side was Flynn, whom I hadn’t said more than a hello to. Across the table were our other limo-mates, and within minutes, Zaki and Gabby, the most extroverted of the group, started a conversation we could all participate in. I didn’t even notice when Penny disappeared.
Promptly at seven o’clock, the soothing sounds of classical music stopped and the emcee welcomed us all. He spoke about the charity, introduced Mr. and Mrs. Biddington, and passed the mic to Monty, who spoke about the silent auction, whose proceeds would benefit children in local pediatric cancer units. Then we all stood for Penny’s rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
By the third course, I was having a great time getting to know Zaki’s teammates and their significant others. Tasha and Monty stopped by to say hello. Tasha’s belly bump looked adorable under her ribboned empire waistline.
After dessert, members from the local symphony took the stage and performed popular classic and modern selections. Couples took to the dance floor, and Zaki turned to me.
“Arwyn,” he said, his voice low but carrying easily over the lilting strains of the symphony. He offered his hand, absent of the white gloves. “Would you grant me the honor of a dance?”
The question was simple, friendly. But his eyes … his eyes said something more. Bright, hopeful, playful, and a touch mischievous, they locked onto mine with a fervent intensity. My pulse quickened, and heat crept into my cheeks as I nodded. I’d have been content to watch from the sidelines, to quietly melt into the background on a settee in the corner and soak in the atmosphere and lose myself in the romance of it all—for research purposes, of course.
But the way he looked at me made it impossible to refuse. His grin—oh, that grin—lit up his face, boyish and unguarded. I laid my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch even through the fine fabric of my lacy glove.
“If the gentleman has determined a dance to be part of the lady’s research,” I began, grateful my voice sounded stately—and far steadier than I was feeling—“then how is the lady to refuse?”
