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"Wouldn't know. Never used it before."

Handsome men with answers that smooth should come with consumer warnings.

The coordinator claps sharply. "Places, everyone!"

Enzo offers his arm. I slip my hand through it. He's solid beneath that jacket, and he smells incredible, all dark spice and expensive cologne. I'd like another sniff, which would be weird even by my standards.

"You look nervous," he says.

"I'm wearing heels that should require a permit. If I trip in front of two hundred people, I'm taking you down with me."

His smile widens. "I won't let you fall."

"Dangerous promise to make to a woman who's been single as long as I have."

He laughs, properly laughs, then leans close enough that his voice brushes my ear. "I have no intention of letting you fall unless I'm there to catch you."

Good Lord. The man ought to be licensed.

The music changes, and we enter a garden overflowing with white roses and candlelight. Enzo moves with such easy confidence that I almost look graceful beside him, until my heel catches the runner. His hand closes over mine, steadying me.

"Told you," he murmurs.

"Don't get cocky. We're not there yet."

As we approach the front, I glance at the hand covering mine. A substantial gold band sits on his right ring finger, engraved with a design I can't quite make out. His left hand is bare. Probably a family ring, I decide. Rich people have heirlooms. I have a necklace I bought on clearance and a cat who eats earrings.

Enzo releases me with a stroke of his thumb across my hand. I take my place as Elise appears, looking so beautiful my throat tightens. Nico looks at her like she's the only woman in the world, and suddenly my jokes about weddings don't feel quite so funny.

I want that. Not diamonds or flowers, but somebody who's glad to see me, wants to hear about my day, and knows my cats aren't going anywhere.

When I glance across the altar, Enzo is watching me. Our eyes meet, and the corner of his mouth lifts. I look away, only to catch him doing it again when Elise and Nico exchange their vows.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

Well, fuck. Maybe the champagne's stronger than I thought.

After the ceremony, I expect my emergency escort to disappear into the crowd of expensive suits. Instead, he finds me while I'm wrestling with my bouquet near the gardens.

"Congratulations," I tell him. "You walked down an aisle without vomiting or dropping your bridesmaid. That's two accomplishments poor Derek didn't manage."

"Should I expect a reward?"

"Depends what you're asking for."

"A dance. At the reception. With you."

I glance up, pretending my heart hasn't just done something ridiculous. "I suppose I could pencil you in between dinner and dessert."

"Pencil?"

"I like to keep my options open."

"Then save me the first dance."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're awfully bossy for a man I met twenty minutes ago."

"You haven't seen bossy yet, sweetheart."