As soon as he was sure Alyssa couldn’t see or hear him, Shane stopped and leaned against the wall. Exhaling hard, he let his head fall back. That ceremony had been torture. Or an exercise in some serious self-control. Maybe both—they were hardly mutually exclusive.
When he’d arrived this afternoon, he’d expected some dirty looks from people who knew him. He’d expected these damned dress shoes to be uncomfortable as fuck before too long.
He hadn’t expected the maid of honor.
Hannah was pretty, but when it came to sexy genes in that family, Alyssa had the lion’s share. Shane had always thought Hannah was a little too thin, bordering on unhealthy. Alyssa was… God, she was just perfect. The bridesmaids’ dresses were hideous, and she still managed to look good, curving in all the right places even when that skintight green material tried its damnedest to be as unflattering as possible.
All the women had their hair up, and Shane had almost lost his mind staring at the stray dark strands falling down beside Alyssa’s neck and onto her bare shoulders, playing in the gentle wind coming in off the water. Then he’d almost dropped the ring when he went to hand it to Jake. The rocking of the boat had been a convenient excuse. No one needed to know he was lightheaded and distracted. He must have spent the better part of the ceremony trying to think of the most unpleasant things he possibly could, just to keep the guests from catching on to his reaction to the maid of honor.
He was lucky he’d made it down the aisle in one piece with her on his arm. The only reason she’d stumbled and he hadn’t was those high heels of hers—his flat-soled dress shoes may have been pinching the life out of his feet, but at least they didn’t throw him off balance. Another five minutes of the ceremony or another five feet of the recessional, especially with the way she kept responding to—and returning—his subtle little touches, and even flat shoes wouldn’t have kept him upright.
Come on, Shane. Get it together. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d gotten laid. It had been, of course, but that didn’t usually hinder his ability to function in the same room as a beautiful woman. Truth be told, he couldn’t remember any woman ever having this effect on him.
It didn’t help that, of all the women on this boat right now, Alyssa was the last one he had any business even thinking of touching. If he went anywhere near her, Hannah would kill him. Or at the very least, run up and warn Alyssa off him. The woman tolerated him, but if he looked at one of her friends or her sister—her incredibly hot sister—she’d flip the fuck out.
His good mood faded in favor of that all too familiar sinking feeling. The reminder that he’d be defined by his history for the rest of his goddamned life, including tonight. After all this time, Hannah was still absolutely certain the business he and Jake ran was successful in spite of Shane’s involvement, not because of it. True, he’d never have gotten far without Jake regardless of his record, but they’d both worked their asses off to get the shop to where it was now. Jake was the first to tell people it would have failed without Shane.
Surprise, surprise, Hannah wasn’t convinced. She had a hard enough time ignoring Shane’s past. She’d never forgive it in a million years, but she could at least ignore it. Most of the time.
He was pretty damn sure she’d shit kittens if he touched her sister.
The wedding party was summoned to the aft deck of the boat. The two photographers were efficient as hell—one handled group photos while the other took candids and smaller group shots. The way they worked together, communicating with what must have been telepathy, Shane suspected they’d been doing this for a long time. In fact, given the glances they exchanged now and then and the way the black-haired one did a double take when one of the groomsmen wasn’t looking, he had a feeling they were more than business partners.
And watching them gave Shane something to do besides stare at the maid of honor. She was just outside his peripheral vision, her presence unavoidable even when he didn’t let himself look.
Of course, that was easier said than done. When the wedding party assembled for photos, there was no escaping her. Standing beside her sister, taking her place as maid of honor, Alyssa was…there. Just unavoidably there.
The blond photographer arranged the wedding party beside the railing for a shot. Then he stepped back and brought up his camera. “All right, everybody move in just a little closer.”
The bridesmaids and groomsmen shuffled in tighter.
“Little more. Get in nice and comfortable. Act like you all like each other.”
Laughter rippled through the wedding party. Shane even managed to join in, which reminded him he still needed to breathe in order to stay conscious.
As the photographer snapped a few shots, Shane resisted the urge to let his gaze slide to the right. Even with Hannah and Jake between them, he could feel Alyssa’s presence, and thank God the photographer only wanted him to look at the camera and smile. He wasn’t so sure he could handle anything more complicated than that.
The black-haired photographer appeared and put his hand on the small of his partner’s back as he said something in his ear. The blond looked at the wedding party, and then nodded. “Good idea. Let’s get the groomsmen and bridesmaids together. In pairs.”
Shane’s heart dropped. He glanced at the black-haired photographer, and damn if the guy didn’t give him a nod and a wink.
Oh, you son of a bitch…
Apparently he hadn’t been being very subtle, and now the photographer was trying to help him out.
The blond photographer lowered his camera. “Bride and groom, take a much-deserved break. Let’s get bridesmaids and groomsmen. Ladies, face this way.” He gestured left. “Gentlemen, you’ll each stand beside one of the ladies.”
Alyssa glanced at Shane, her eyebrows arched slightly.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Alyssa turned the direction the photographer had indicated.
Shane stood behind her. As the photographer directed them, Shane rested his hand on her waist. “This okay?”
“It’s fine.” She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes as much as she could from there. “Are you…?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“I’m…” Oh God. “I’m good.”
Shane wasn’t shy. It was a rare woman who could make him trip over his own feet, but just being near Alyssa was making him sweat bullets. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he could say something. Make some polite conversation, feel her out, see if the interest was as mutual as her occasional glance suggested, but he knew better. He wasn’t going to engage someone like Alyssa while her sister—and a few other people who knew him—were nearby. One flirtatious remark from him, and they’d all swoop in out of nowhere and disavow her of any thought she might have about giving him the time of day.
But thanks to a well-intentioned photographer, he couldn’t get away from her either.
As if on cue, a wave hit the boat. The deck listed beneath their feet, and all the bridesmaids wobbled in their high heels.
Alyssa stumbled backward. Right into him.
By the grace of God, he was turned just slightly, and she bumped into his hip. Another inch or two to the right, and things would’ve gotten…awkward.
Jesus, Shane.
He steadied her with a hand on her arm and the other still on her waist. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She laughed, color blooming in her cheeks, probably embarrassed as hell and mercifully unaware of how much her smile fucked with him. “Stupid shoes.”
Shane chuckled.
And after a few seconds, he realized they were still holding each other’s gaze, and he was still holding on to her.
Clearing their throats, they both faced front again. He wondered if she was praying as hard as he was for the boat to stay steady until this was over. And speaking of hard, thank fuck he had on a jacket, which he intended to keep securely buttoned despite the afternoon’s lingering heat.
After a few shots, the photographer lowered his camera again. “Good.” He glanced at his partner, and they exchanged something unspoken before the blond nodded to the wedding party. “Let’s get one with the bride’s family.”
Everyone else dispersed, and Shane had to admit he was relieved to put a little distance between himself and Alyssa.
What the fuck? This wasn’t like him at all. Oh, he’d been tongue-tied and out of breath over women before, but Alyssa had pretty much grabbed him by the balls at first sight and hadn’t let go. Did she know what effect she had on him? Shit, how could she not? He didn’t imagine he was putting on a very convincing display of calm and collected.
God help him if she tried to strike up a conversation…
At the reception, after the wedding party photos and obligations were over, Shane slipped away from the crowd to get himself a beer. He took a deep swallow, and let that cool himself down.
Get a grip, he ordered himself. You don’t have a shot with her. Let it go.
He turned just in time to catch Alyssa’s eye, and for a couple of tense, heart-pounding seconds, their gazes locked.
She broke away first, and Shane was suddenly out of breath. Reeling. Looking for something to lean on so he’d stay upright.
So much for the beer cooling him down. Jesus Christ.
Shane shook himself and turned, searching for someone with a ready supply of alcohol.
As he did, he caught someone else’s eye.
Hannah’s expression hardened. She glanced past him, probably at her sister, and then scowled at him. And started toward him. And stopped right in front of him.
“Shane.” She plastered on a smile that wouldn’t have fooled a blind man. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too.” Shane’s smile probably wasn’t any more convincing. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Her lips got even tighter as she stared straight into his eyes. “Having a good time?”
“Of course.”
She studied him for a moment. “I noticed you met my sister earlier.”
“Well, it is customary for the best man and maid of honor to cross paths a few times.”
Her thin eyebrows came down a little, shadowing her narrow eyes. She didn’t say it, but the warning in her expression was crystal clear.
Then she set her shoulders back and forced another unconvincing smile. “I need to go say hello to some of the other guests. Enjoy the party, Shane.”
“You too.” Bitch. Shane gritted his teeth. So much for his buzz. Sighing, he handed his empty beer bottle to a passing waiter, then walked out onto the outside deck to get some air.
It was a fairly warm evening, but most people stayed inside where the alcohol was. A small group stood off to one side near the railing, champagne glasses in hand as they took a selfie.
Shane followed the walkway in the other direction, around the side of the cabin. A few windows looked into the party, but he was more or less alone. No small feat on a boat this size with this many people aboard.
He rested his hands on the railing and looked out at the water.
Somehow he’d kept his cool during the ceremony, even during the processional and recessional when he’d had her hand on his elbow, and when her skirt had occasionally brushed his leg, but now that he was by himself, he was surprised his hands weren’t shaking.
This wasn’t like him at all. Sure, he believed in lust at first sight, and he wasn’t above checking anyone out, but it was a rare, rare woman who could put his jaw on the floor the way she had.
Maybe it was just that dress. The color had been hideous, but it could’ve been bright orange for all he cared, because he’d immediately homed in on the way it clung to her hips and that ass. And when she’d turned around? Good God. He had no idea how she could breathe in that thing. Or move. How did any woman move when she was a badly timed sneeze away from falling out of her top?
He’d probably never know. All he knew was he couldn’t breathe or move or think when she was in the room and barely in that dress.
And something about the gleam in her eyes had just about done him in. Some guys dug the innocent, coquettish look, but Shane wasn’t into that. His Achilles’ heel was a woman who looked like she could issue a challenge without saying a word. The kind of woman who could probably back up that challenge and then some.
Shane exhaled and leaned heavily on the railing, letting the ocean breeze cool the sudden warmth in his skin. If he was reading her right, and he was pretty sure he was, Alyssa was a woman who could throw a gauntlet with a grin. And if her sister wouldn’t have skinned him alive for so much as entertaining the idea, he’d have gladly picked it up.
Shane rubbed his cool hands over his face. One night. Jesus. If he could just have her for one night. Hannah would never have to know, and Alyssa wouldn’t have to come up with a diplomatic way of telling him why they couldn’t be together. Not every woman came out and said it. Once they knew who he was, they made quick escapes, but not one woman had ever actually said the words. As if he didn’t know.
He didn’t blame them. He couldn’t really even blame Hannah. And he wouldn’t blame Alyssa.
But damn, what he wouldn’t have done for just one night…