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The hug lasts for longer than I would have anticipated, and his warm personality is so inviting that I lose myself for a long moment, dreaming about what it might be like to be with a man like him, compared to the cold and aloof Zack. He moves his arms slightly so I’m able to wrap my own arms around him, squeezing him tightly in return. I don’t miss the slight rumbling of appreciation in his chest.
If he keeps hugging me for any longer, this is going to be bordering on more than just a friendly hug. Do I want that? I have to shut down the little voice in the back of my head that is screaming, “Yes! Let the sexy man hug you for as long as he wants!” But the rational voice is screaming, “there’s no way he’s single!”
As quickly as he initiates the embrace, he lets me go, and my arms drop to my side. I'm suddenly anxious to get away from him, out of fear of making a fool of myself.
“Well, thanks again.” I wave as I walk inside the building, heading down the hall to the room we set the bouquets in.
I can’t help but admit that I find Andrew very attractive. I mean, who wouldn’t? The dark curly hair, adorable smile, kind eyes. There is no way a guy like him is single, and the most attractive thing about him isn’t even his looks. No, it was his wit, and his warm, caring personality. Some guys -cough, cough, Zack- would have complained about having to help the florist or found a way to get out of it, but not him.
I feel an unsavory amount of jealousy for the woman that he’s with. I mean, she’s got a good one, and I’ve known him for all of an hour.
4
ANDREW
Iyank the white tulle disaster up my chest, sliding my arms through the sleeves. When Megan suggested this a few months ago, I hesitated for all of two seconds. Isaac is totally going to lose his shit, but fuck is it going to be worth it. Pretty much everyone knows that we are doing this, except Isaac.
There’s a knock on the door, and my brother Beau’s best friend, Marley, who is also the photographer, steps in. “Oh hell yes,” she snickers. Her long brown hair is twisted up on her head, bangs hanging over her forehead, and she’s wearing a soft dusty pink blouse that matches the flowers Josie was setting up. The sleeves of her blouse cut off just above her elbows, showing off the arrangement of tattoos on her arms. She’s wearing a pair of black slacks , black flats, and her signature shiny gold nose ring.
I, on the other hand, am wearing a wedding dress.
I hold my arms out, spinning in a circle for her to see the look. The full, fluffy skirt billows around me, and for a moment I totally get why young kids like to spin in their dresses and skirts. This shit is fun.
I stop twirling, the dress resting against my legs again. I still have my dress pants and undershirt on, but my dress shirt, tie, and suit coat are hanging on the back of the door Marley just walked through.
“Good, right?” I ask Marley, lifting my arms again.
“So fucking good,” she says. Before I can realize what she’s doing, she whips her phone from her pocket, and I hear the click of the camera.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Marley.” I stride across the room toward her, my dress swishing at my ankles with each step. She’s going to send the picture to my brothers, I know it.
“Too late!” she shrieks.
I pinch my nose. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“I’m the sister you never had.”
“You could say that again,” I mutter. I tuck her under my arm as she opens the door.
“Ready?” she prompts, holding the door open.
“I suppose,” I grumble, but really, I’m fucking excited as hell.
Marley leads us outside, and I spot Isaac standing at the tree line, his back to me. Marley whispers directions in my ear, pointing at the second photographer who will be taking pictures from a different angle.
I listen intently, stopping in the spot she tells me to. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Josie, the florist, adjusting a few of the guys’ boutonniere. She’s so fucking cute, I swear when she pulled up, my heart stuttered in my chest.
Gorgeous strawberry red hair, with freckles spattering across her nose and cheeks. She’s got ample curves with thick thighs, and a full set of tits.
Yeah, I noticed her tits. Sue me.
It was hard not to ask a million questions about herself, but I knew that once I started talking to her, I wouldn’t want to stop. I knew she needed to focus on her job today, so I shut my mouth. If anything, I didn’t talk enough. I felt like I was making things a little awkward.
Shrugging off the thought, I settle my eyes on her again for a short moment, ignoring the flare of jealousy I feel as she helps the guys. I’m totally going to play dumb so she has to help me with my boutonniere. Anything to get close to her again. She smells like the flowers she brought, a sweet, rosy scent. She’s in a pair of black leggings that make her ass look fucking phenomenal, black flats, and a blue short sleeved blouse.
“Okay, Megan,” Marley says, pulling my attention back to her. She looks at me with wide, irritated eyes, and mouths, “pay attention, dickhead.”
I shrug, ready for the next step.
