Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
It sounds like a zoo at feeding time, which I blame for the fact that I don’t hear Melissa calling my name until she tugs on my sleeve and shouts, “Wesley!”
I glance sharply down at my sister, who’s studying me with wide, shocked eyes. “What on earth? Overreact much?”
“He grabbed her,” I say, torn between the feral part of me that feels completely justified in borderline assault and the part of me that’s mortified that I made such a scene.
“Yes, but Tessa could have handled it,” Mel says, crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. Even in her lacy maternity wedding dress, swollen belly, and own flower crown, my sister manages to exude the air of a drill sergeant, in control of all she surveys. “She’s a grown-up. If she wanted help, she would have asked for it.”
I pull in a breath, but before I can apologize, Mel flaps a hand toward the open door at the back of the barn. “Don’t waste your apology on me. Tessa went out back to get some air. I suggest you follow her and do an appropriate amount of groveling.” I start to speak again, but Mel shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it, brother. I’m not mad. You didn’t ruin the day.” She grins. “It wouldn’t be an Irish wedding if someone didn’t get into a drunken fight. And Chase is already passed out with Grammy inside on the couch, so he didn’t see anything upsetting. Now, go. Apologize to Tessa, make things right, then get another piece of cake. Cake heals all wounds.” She pulls me in for a hug.
“Thanks,” I tell the top of her head. My shortest, but most badass, sister is always right. “Congratulations again. The ceremony was beautiful. Chase is a lucky little guy to have a stepdad like Aaron.”
She pulls back, beaming up at me. “Right? God, I landed a great one, didn’t I? He loves me a ridiculous amount.”
“An appropriate amount,” I correct, making her laugh as she nudges me in the stomach with her fist.
“That’s right.” She winks. “Don’t worry, you’ll find a woman to worship someday soon. I’m sure of it.”
I arch a brow, wondering if she knows something I don’t.
Has Tessa said something? About what happened between us? About maybe wishing it could happen again? This time while we’re locked in the bonds of a serious, committed relationship?
I shake my head, dismissing the thought as I head toward the back of the barn. If Mel knew, she would have said something before now. She probably would have read me the riot act for being a dirty cheating asshole who upset her best friend. At the very least, I would have received a stern warning to treat Tessa like a fucking queen.
But I haven’t heard a word from my sister. Tessa and I promised each other we wouldn’t speak about what happened with anyone else, and Tessa’s not the kind to break a promise.
Neither am I, a fact that’s made all of this so much harder.
I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about my mistake or the fallout or how desperately I wish I could turn back time and do things differently. I knew that night in the woods that the connection I felt with Tessa was special, but I didn’t realize how special until the chance of seeing her again was off the table.
Since then, I’ve been plagued by the gut-churning suspicion that she’s The One. My One. And I was hers and one stupid mistake on my part ruined that for both of us.
Maybe forever.
I’ve tried to approach her, to explain myself and talk it out, at least a dozen times, but every time Tessa sees me headed her way, she finds a reason to vanish.
When I step outside in the cool, spring evening, I half expect her to be gone.
But she isn’t. She’s there, at the far edge of the cluster of fire pits—where my teenage cousins are flirting with the few non-McGuire girls at the reception—beyond the strings of golden lights strung for the occasion, back by the oak tree. She’s in the swing my brothers and sisters and I kept busy when we were small, drifting slowly back and forth, her dress fluttering in the breeze like something out of a dream.
I take a breath, my heart racing as I make my way through the campfire smoke toward her, the scent sending visceral reminders of our night by the fire rushing through me. My fingers tingle with the memory of how soft her skin felt beneath my hands, my lips prickle with the need to press against hers again.
I haven’t been with another woman since Tessa. I’ve kissed a few, but it never went further than that. No matter how lonely I’ve been, I didn’t want it to. After that rush, that connection I felt with Tessa, after the way she welcomed everything I had to give, no holding back, all other women seem two-dimensional in comparison.