Chapter Twenty

Jarrah leaned back at the deserted bridal table and surveyed the crowd carrying on beneath the galaxies of stars smiling down from the heavens. The contrast between the wedding ceremony and reception was as stark as the sun-bleached day and moon-drenched night. He chuckled and sipped his beer as Ryder and Abi once again snuck into a private corner of the courtyard to escape the mayhem. After everything they’d overcome to find and hang on to each other, he could only smile and raise his bottle to his kid brother and brand-new sister.

He’d lost count of the number of things he’d learned from Ryder. The ogre had shown what true strength was, demonstrated the mind’s unstoppable power, and proved the resilience of the human spirit no matter the odds. And tonight, as his brother hugged the woman he’d been willing to sacrifice everything for, Ryder had taught him the most important lesson of all.

Jarrah placed his bottle on the table, sucked in a deep, steadying breath, and pushed back his chair. He was a good six beers away from tipsy, which was probably a bad thing, because he had no excuse for what he was about to do. Weaving through the sea of guests, portable tables, and folding chairs choking Wingarra’s courtyard, he made his way toward the makeshift dance floor and the hundred or so revelers dancing the night away.

After stopping to tease the older and more introverted of his tribe who were taking a breather or hiding from the chaos, he grabbed his beaming mother for an impromptu jive between the tables before hugging the life out of her and smacking a kiss on her cheek.

The sly smile she shot him as she pinched his cheeks and shoved him toward the dance floor confirmed he hadn’t fooled her with his covert bullshit, but that was nothing new. Pausing just long enough to scroll through the playlist on Kira’s iPhone speaker dock, he found the song he’d spent the last hour deciding on and strode toward the women kicking up dust and screeching loud enough to wake his ancestors.

Olivia, Kira, Jeddah, and Maddie were teaching the rest of the guests some half-drunk version of a cross between a line dance and a Zumba class. He’d done his damnedest not to think of the supple body hiding beneath Olivia’s jeans and simple red cotton shirt. Despite singing completely off key and looking more uncoordinated than he’d ever seen her, she was still the sexiest thing he’d been lucky enough to see. And her joy only seemed to brighten the more out of step she fell. She simply didn’t care how adorably clumsy she looked.

It’d been hard enough to let her go after the bridal waltz and even tougher to stand by while she danced and laughed her way through the horde of men who’d wanted to try their luck with her. She’d even escorted Ethan and his crutches for a very slow shuffle around the courtyard, which had put a smile on the smug bastard’s face for the remainder of the night.

Jarrah had done his own fair share of dancing with Baroona’s female population, yet his thoughts had lingered on Olivia. They were nothing more than friends who’d seen each other naked and shared some pretty freaking amazing workouts. But knowingly or unknowingly, she’d destroyed him for all other women and he’d be damned if he wasted anymore of their precious time together stalking her from the sidelines.

With each step, the macho bullshit he’d pumped himself up with evaporated until the weight of his entire social network bore down on him. Heart racing, chest cramping, throat tightening, hands shaking, he crept around the dance floor and lingered in the shadows cast by the courtyard’s eucalypts. His heart stopped completely when the music thundering out of the speakers silenced and The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” drifted into the night.

Olivia froze in the center of the dance floor like he’d reached out and touched her. The urge to charge through the crowd and tackle her almost overwhelmed him, but he knew she’d find him. He had no freaking idea how he knew, he just knew.

She shook free of her trance and slowly waded through the dancers to the edge of the tables and searched the courtyard. Fifty meters of hard-packed dirt and dozens of completely oblivious revelers stood between them, yet her private smile hit him square in the chest and jump-started his heart.

…

Olivia could’ve blamed the adrenaline flooding her system on alcohol or the mayhem swirling around her. There was no reason she should’ve known he’d be waiting for her in the shadows. She loved “Every Breath You Take,” and judging by the number of people surging onto the dance floor, she wasn’t the only one. Any one of the guests could’ve loaded the song. Yet the instant that unforgettable beat had drifted into her ears she’d had no doubt he’d chosen it for her.

She double-checked the Harpers and blew out a breath when she found them blissfully unaware of the electricity tingling through her. Her relief was short-lived when her gaze caught Naya grinning at her, but before she’d regrouped enough to disguise her guilt, Naya returned her attention to the Baroona elders gathered around her.

Sting crooned in her ears as she drifted toward the silhouette she knew as well as her own body. He’d watch out for her, protect her, care for her in that laid-back way of his that was as charming as it was unstoppable. But how many more nights did they have left before the real world, their real careers, and the seven thousand miles separating their real lives wrenched them apart?

Sinking into the shadows, she pulled him into her arms and slow-danced them away from their audience and into the darkness. The arms she’d craved the entire day slid around her and trapped her to his chest. With each slow-motion twirl, she allowed herself to float away as she rested her cheek on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. Her heartbeat fell into rhythm with his and a sense of peace flowed through her.

He pressed one hand to the small of her back and cradled her neck with the other. She couldn’t decide whether his hands had been created to fit her body or it was the other way around. Whatever or whomever had brought them together had done a pretty amazing job.

She wanted to tell him how safe, how powerful, how beautiful he made her feel. She needed him to know he was more than just a holiday fling, that he was her lover, but more importantly her friend, yet words would only spoil this magical moment.

She eased just far enough away to slide her hands up his chest and capture his face. Gazing into his eyes, she slowly nodded and brushed her thumbs over his curved lips. He returned her nod, as she knew he would, and parted his lips for her. Pulling him down, she pressed her lips to his and molded herself into him.

Sting’s voice quieted, the raucous chatter hushed, the laughter silenced, and the sounds of the celebration carrying on in the light outside their private world faded into the night as he deepened the kiss.