His fingers brush the nape of my neck as he works the clasp free. The chain slides away, and instead of handing it to me, he sets it on the nightstand.
Then his lips find the exact spot where the necklace was and heat roars through me like a blowtorch.
“Bren,” I say weakly, my resolve slipping away. “We don’t have time for this. Didn’t you hear the part about being late?”
His hand slides to my waist. “Who needs pastries anyway?” He pulls me back against him. “They’ll survive without them.”
He kisses across my shoulder so slowly that it makes me forget what day it is.
“You’re very good at this,” I murmur, closing my eyes and trying to remain firm, which is a losing battle at this point. “But we, uh, have to stay on schedule.”
“Schedules are overrated,” he murmurs, ignoring me.
I look at him over my shoulder. “Carmen will kill us both!”
“At least we’ll go down together.”
“How can you crack jokes at a time like this?” I slide out of his arms before I liquefy completely. “We can flirt with danger later. Right now, I’m in emergency bridesmaid mode.”
He leans back against the headboard, watching me with a smile that makes my stomach swoop. His eyes drop to the oversized shirt that I stole from his suitcase because it smells like him, and the matching heart shorts peeking out underneath only seem to add to his distraction.
“You’re making this very difficult, you know that? Walking around in my t-shirt like that.” He climbs off the bed, sauntering toward me with a dangerous smile. “And my willpower is not nearly as strong as yours.”
“Focus, Marco.” I press a hand to his chest. “Don’t think you can use those bedroom eyes to lure me back to you. I’m going to have a will of steel today.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Should we test that theory?”
As it turns out, my willpower is as thin as cheap toilet paper.
His mouth slants over mine, kissing me so long and deep that I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.
When he pulls away, his mouth curves into a smirk. “That’s to remind you what you’re missing for the rest of the day.”
My jaw drops. “That was a dirty trick, Brendan Marco.”
His laugh rumbles across the room. “Well, yes, it probably was.” Then he kisses the tip of my nose, before stepping back with a grin that should be outlawed. “Now go. Before I really make us late.”
I grab my robe from the chair and pause at the bathroom door. “By the way, I’m hoping I can talk to your uncle about the vendor contract at the reception tonight.”
“Yeah?” he says, looking through his closet. “What are you going to say?”
“I have more ideas I want to share with him. I’ve been thinking about menu options.” I’m getting excited just talking about it. “You know, this contract would really boost my dad’s spirits—give him something positive to focus on.” I hug the robe to my chest. “Since it’s Carmen’s wedding day, everyone will be in a good mood. Seems like perfect timing.”
Just then, I hear the bride’s voice in the hall, yelling, “Scarlett and Brendan! Where are you?”
I shoot a panicked look at Brendan. “I’m not dressed yet!”
“Go.” He shoos me toward the bathroom door. “I’ll take care of the pastries and my sister.”
The rest of the morning flies by as my hair is curled and shellacked with hairspray into a style meant to last until next year—or at least through the reception. It’s an elaborate twisted updo with curls cascading over my shoulder, a style requiring two stylists, three curling irons, and approximately forty-five bobby pins.
But it’s nothing compared to Carmen. She’s absolutely stunning in a form-fitting satin gown which has intricate beading across the bodice, and then flares out at the bottom where her trainfans behind her.
By the time the ceremony starts, the backyard has been completely transformed into a romantic fairy tale. The gardens are in full bloom, roses and hydrangeas spilling over every surface. An enormous arbor draped with blush-pink roses awaits the bride and groom, while large bouquets of lilies, hydrangeas, and peonies fill buckets lining the aisle. White lights hang from every tree in the garden, casting a soft glow over everything.
A few months ago, I couldn’t have imagined it—not just attending this wedding, but actually being part of it, as Carmen’s bridesmaid and Brendan’s date.How is this even my life?
By the time it’s my turn to walk down the aisle, Isabella and Elana are already wiping their eyes. That’s when I get a clear view of Brendan standing next to the groom. His shoulders are squared, hands clasped neatly in front of him, every inch the composed Coach Marco. The moment his gaze finds me, his face softens, the controlled mask drops away, and he’s justmyBrendan, smiling like we’re the only people in this garden.