Holiday Wedding (Holiday Romance-Spicy Version #2)

Bonus Epilogue

Wednesday, December 25

Gwen’s and Caleb’s Wedding

Helen

Is there anything more awkward than being at a wedding where the only person you know is the bride or groom? They’re enjoying their big day while also being gracious hosts. They’re circulating to each table to say hello to their guests.

I was lucky. Gwen spent an extra 10 minutes talking to me in the bathroom. She asked how packing was going and if I was excited about my new job in California. I answered “good” and “yes” to her questions.

Now I sit in the corner of the room, idly swirling my glass of red wine. Droplets cling to the sides and then slide down like rain on a window. The wedding reception is at the Mandarin Oriental, just off Columbus Circle. We’re in a ballroom at the top of the building, on the 89th floor. Crystal chandeliers gleam over an Asian-inspired carpet so plush that my high heels sank into it when I first walked in.

Dinner was delicious, the food provided by Caleb’s restaurant. Tender, flaky salmon and thick steaks paired with thinly sliced scalloped potatoes in a buttery cream sauce. After we ate, Gwen and Caleb together held the knife to cut their three-tiered wedding cake. It sparkled with edible glitter designed to look like snowflakes, each one unique.

Now the guests are up, wandering around to talk with each other. A crowd steadily grows on the dance floor, which is flanked by a DJ with spinning turntables and an open laptop.

I watch as Gwen floats across the room, breathtaking in her princess-style white dress. The ceremony earlier was the most touching I’ve ever seen. The way Caleb serenaded her, his words brimming with emotion. It almost made me believe that love is a real thing. Something that can be captured, shared for eternity, if you find the right partner. Since I haven’t dated for over a year, it’s highly unlikely I’ll find a soulmate, but I was gratified to see that my new friend has hers.

Gwen pauses by her brother Teddy, whom I’ve met once, a week ago. He’s dancing with a large group of young people. I’ve already noticed him several times tonight. He wears a black suit. Earlier he’d had on a red bow tie, a nod to the color scheme of his sister’s wedding, but now it’s gone along with his jacket. The top three buttons of his shirt, also black, are undone, revealing a fine sheen of sweat across well-defined pectoralis muscles.

When I first met him, an uncharacteristic zing flowed through my body. Like I’d stuck my finger into an electrical outlet. That night I’d watched him work and flirt his way through the bar. I’d been oddly enchanted by his mischievous grin and lighthearted laugh.

I’m not lighthearted about anything. I’m measured and ambitious. Responsible to a fault.

Gwen tugs on his sleeve until he bends his ear down to her. She rises onto her tiptoes and whispers. Teddy glances my way. I flush, suspicious they’re talking about me. Sure enough, he gives her a nod and saunters over to where I sit.

“Hey.” He’s breathing fast, and a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Do you want to dance?”

“Oh no,” I tell him. I’m embarrassed that he’s obviously been sent on a mission by his sister. I can just imagine what kind Gwen said to him. “Go get Helen from her sad corner and make her dance. I want everyone to have fun at my wedding.” This is a pity visit. Not something he would have thought of on his own.

“Thanks for the offer, though.”

My eyes widen in surprise when he responds by flopping down in the seat next to me. I expected my refusal to be met with relief. That he would be happy to move on, knowing he’d fulfilled his brotherly duty, but that’s not what he does. Instead, he slouches in the chair and tips his face to the ceiling, closing his eyes with a weary sigh.

“Mind if I hang out with you for a couple of minutes?” he asks.

“Uh, sure.” With his eyes shut, I can stare as much as I want. This close, I see how long his eyelashes are. How the angle of his jaw is sharp and straight, like it was drawn with a ruler.

We sit together in silence, which is another surprise. Usually, with someone you don’t know, there’s this pressure, this urgency to fill the air with chatter. A comfortable silence is earned from knowing the other person well enough to not default to idle chit-chat. But this quiet between us is calm and oddly familiar, as if we’ve sat like this many times before, which we definitely have not.

Finally, his eyes flutter open and slide my way. “I love my sister,” he says, “and this wedding is the best I’ve ever been to, but I still can’t wait to leave.” Then he flinches, as if injured by his own words. “Don’t tell Gwen I said that, please,” he begs, regretting his candor.

“I won’t say a word,” I assure him, then tilt my head to the side. “You seemed like you were having a good time out there.”

He waves a languid hand in the air. “Old friends from high school. Haven’t seen them in years. You’d think it would be fun catching up, but the truth is, I already know what they’ve been up to. With social media, I’ve watched them grow up, get married, and have a kid. I even saw how they just got back from a trip to Orlando.”

He rolls his head without moving the rest of his body to look at me. “Reunions stink these days. There’s no mystery. No wondering how Bobby from Spanish class turned out.” He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout that makes me laugh.

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” I admit.

“You’re lucky,” he says. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t already know how little Ricky won the All-Stars baseball game last summer.”

I think back to him laughing and dancing with abandon. “You didn’t look too miserable.”

He angles his entire body my direction. “Why? Were you watching me?” Teddy purrs, teasing and flirting all at once.

I’m glad it’s dark in this corner, so he can’t see my cheeks flush.

His smile falls away. “I’m a good actor,” he says with downcast eyes. His morose expression makes my heart pinch. “Maybe I should give Caleb a run for his money. I could be the one to win an Academy Award.”

I don’t often try to change the mood of people around me. I believe we are each responsible for our own emotions. It’s not my job to make someone else happy. But seeing Teddy like this feels wrong. It’s like looking at a lightbulb that’s been turned off. I have an urge to flick his switch. To make him shine again.

“You know what? I would like to dance, after all.”

His head whips my way, surprise opening his mouth. “Oh, okay.” He scrambles to his feet and stretches his hand out to me. When my fingers touch his and he folds his warm palm into mine, I feel that jolt of electricity again. It travels up my arm and burrows into my chest. I wonder if Teddy feels it too, because his body jerks and he sends me a perplexed look, his arched eyebrows drawing downward.

Hand in hand, we wind our way onto the dance floor. A slow song plays, the melody filled with longing. Across from me, Gwen rests her head on Caleb’s chest as they sway together. He rubs small circles on her back, the gesture so tender that there’s a sudden stinging in the back of my throat and a yearning for someone to caress me that way, which is silly. I’m an independent woman. I don’t need a relationship to make my life complete.

Teddy hesitantly puts his hands on my waist, his touch feather-light. I place my palms on his broad shoulders. We’re awkward, pulling closer until my chest brushes his and then we both jump back.

Just this one dance. I steel myself to get it over with, uncomfortable with how my fingers tingle from where they contact him.

I can already picture leaving after this, going home to my half-packed apartment on the Upper East Side and reading through the stack of medical journals by my bedside until I fall asleep alone in my king-sized bed. My idea of a perfect evening.

The song ends, and music with a techno beat starts up. I drop my hands from Teddy, about to excuse myself, when he flashes that devilish smile at me again. He dances, his movements fast, almost frantic, but he’s not doing the usual moves for a song like this. Instead, he breaks out every cliché ’80s dance you can think of. He does the running man, the cabbage patch, the sprinkler, grinning at me the entire time. It’s so unexpected and goofy and funny that I laugh, delighted. That makes him laugh too. He reaches for me and spins me around, twirling together.

“Your turn,” he calls once we stop turning. He points at my feet and gives me a look of challenge.

“What? Like a dance off?” I shout over the music, which has gotten louder as more wedding guests flood the dance floor, eager to join in.

“Exactly.” He sways his hips, with his hands over his head in a way that draws his shirt tight across his chest. My eyes dip, taking in the ripple of his muscles and trailing down to his narrow waist.

Teddy steps into my space and leans down. He says right into my ear, “Unless you’re scared.” He dances away, light on his feet.

Oh. That was the wrong thing to say to me. My competitive streak flares to life. I pride myself on being the best at anything I do—otherwise I don’t bother doing it. My eyes narrow at him, which elicits another of his carefree laughs.

“Uh, no. Have I made her mad?” he taunts. “Helen is fired up.”

I lift my head and straighten my spine. “Step back.” I flick my hand at him, urging him away.

He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I can’t wait to see this.” His smile stretches wider. I don’t miss the long look he sends over my body, his eyes trailing me from head to toe like he’s really seeing me for the first time.

Dramatically, I throw my arms out. What Teddy doesn’t know is that I’ve taken dance classes my whole life, beginning at three years old. Mostly I’ve done ballet, but I also had jazz, hip-hop, and tap lessons. I close my eyes, calling back the ability to find the rhythm in the music, a little worried because I haven’t done this type of dance in a long time. It comes to me instantly. The beat flows through my body like it’s a physical thing, like it’s in my bloodstream. It spreads to each limb, and they come to life. I lift my arms high over my head and let my hips move, undulating almost like a belly dancer.

Teddy freezes, his eyes wide.

A tiny smirk touches my lips. That was exactly the reaction I was going for. Slowly, I spin in a circle, my arms dropping to slide along the back of my head, my neck, my shoulders, the sides of my body, and finally to my hips, which have stayed in constant motion. Teddy tracks each brush of my fingertips against my body like he can’t tear his gaze away. I suppress a chuckle.

Men.

So predictable.

My eyes close. I focus on my body and the way it responds to the music. Soon I’m enjoying dancing for myself, not even thinking about the man across from me. I’d forgotten this sensation of freedom, of giving myself up to movement. Living only in this moment where I become one with the notes and the lyrics.

A favorite song comes on, and I sing along with it, whispering the words under my breath, humming the tune. I’m energized, lit up from the inside, like the power of the universe is at my fingertips, like I can sense the secret magnetic vibrations that run through the world.

I’m so lost in the moment that I let out a squeak when strong hands grab my waist and pull me close. Teddy’s there, holding me to him tightly, letting his hips bump up against mine. His gaze runs admiringly over my face and then down at my body. My cheeks heat. No one’s looked at me like this in a while, years even.

It’s…nice.

Maybe those medical journals can wait. I wrap my arms around Teddy, and together we dance, every touch electric. Teddy does a break dance move, spinning on his knees. He points to my feet, and I tap dance, my shoes moving so fast they blur. I’m having so much fun that I barely notice the crowd that grows around us. They form a circle and chant our names. The wedding photographer takes a couple of shots, which makes me laugh, thinking how inadvertently I’ve ended up in Gwen’s wedding album.

Teddy pulls me close for a dramatic tango, his cheek against mine as he whisks me back and forth over the dance floor. The crowd parts when we swing dance, Teddy twirling me again and again. I lose track of time. Minutes, hours, fly by and my inhibitions with them. Normally I’d be put off by a near-stranger dancing with me, but not with him. I sink down to my knees before him, bounce once on my heels, and then rise up with his hands on my arms guiding me. He drops to one knee, spins on the ground, and then springs up, grinning. I throw my head back and let out a laugh, so big it makes my eyes water. Sweat beads on my forehead. I’m panting from the exertion of dancing harder than ever before.

After many songs have passed, Teddy grips my shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.” He plucks at his shirt, which clings to him in an alluring way. “I’m overheated.”

The crowd groans its disappointment when we walk away. Teddy raises his hand and waves to them like he’s exiting from a televised dance competition. Dancing with the Stars would be appropriate, I guess, since Caleb’s here.

We stop by the bar. Teddy gets a long-necked bottle of beer while I grab an icy water, the cup slippery with condensation. Without discussing it, we push through swinging doors to the expansive balcony that overlooks the city. New York spreads out in front of us, a tapestry of lights and sound. Even from so high up, I can make out the faint noise of sirens and cars honking.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I wave my hand at the view and stroll down to the far end of the balcony. Teddy follows. It’s secluded here. Large ferns in golden planters are highlighted by illuminated scones set high on the wall. The plants cast spiky shadows on the floor. Music from the wedding fades as we move farther from the door. We’re alone, the only people who’ve ventured out to enjoy the night air.

Teddy turns to me, his eyes gleaming. The spaghetti strap on my dress has fallen off my shoulder. With a single long finger, he slides it back into place and then rests his hand there, caressing my skin lightly with his thumb. I’m exhilarated by the dancing, the music, the enchantment of the evening. I want more of this, more feeling alive, more of him.

Operating purely on impulse, I surge up onto my toes and kiss him. I slam my body into his with such force that he stumbles backward into the metal railing behind him. Teddy lets out a startled “oomph” and his mouth opens, probably in shock that I’ve just attacked him. A dim part of my mind warns this may not be a good idea, but it shuts up when his lips instantly respond to mine.

Teddy kisses me back, and this time I’m the one surprised. Something warm and metallic is in my mouth, something foreign. I explore it with my tongue and realize he has a piercing. The sensation of it is unexpected. I suck it into my mouth, and the kiss deepens. Teddy presses closer. He kisses me harder, using his whole body. Each brush of his lips and tongue matches his hands, which draw me close, circling my waist.

“You’re stunning,” he whispers against the skin of my throat. “So gorgeous,” he murmurs into my ear.

I pull away to stare into his eyes, which swim with longing.

Now that we’re not touching, a worried crease appears between Teddy’s brows.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “We can stop.”

I consider his words.

We could stop kissing, but is that what I want?

There’s a recklessness in Teddy that calls to me. It awakens a long-suppressed urge to leave my normal self behind.

Just for tonight.

“Kiss me some more,” I tell him.

I hold my breath and wait for his response…

The End