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ChapterThree
Carlie
I always cry at weddings,and this one is no exception. You’d think that an NFL player would have a big wedding in a big city, fancy and over the top, but this one is quaint and intimate. The lavender accents mixed with the rustic wood and natural elements are enough to die for. I can only hope that one day my wedding is this beautiful.
I still have to pinch myself that I’m here with Griffin. Up front, he stands alongside the other gigantic groomsmen. I can barely keep my eyes off him, and I don’t even try to. A few times, he scans the crowd for me and I nearly melt when he winks at me, letting me know he sees me.
It’s fake, Carlie. None of this is real.
I snap out of it pretty quickly when I remember how much money he’s paying for this. It’s the only reason I’m here. I have to pay my bills. This is my career. I am not falling for the NFL Bad Boy who clearly had to buy a custom tux that’s like double the size of any normal one I’ve ever seen. How can any man bethatbig?
The ceremony is short and sweet, just like I like them to be. After so many weddings under my belt, I’ve gotten used to sitting through the long ones, but I sure appreciate the quick ones. Afterward, I sit with my phone as Griffin goes out for group photos. I’ve never been hired as a date for a groomsman before, but I realize now that it’s the tits. This downtime is precious and I can answer other email inquiries.
After photos wrap up, Griffin hulks his way toward me. I tuck my phone in my purse, and he helps me up. The minute our hands touch, a jolt of electricity rushes through me and doesn’t stop until it’s igniting my center. “All done?” I try to keep my voice from wavering.
“Yeah, it’s party time.” He smiles, but when he notices my face, he rolls his eyes and shifts so that he’s beside me. “I mean, time for the reception. I’m not going to do anything stupid, Carlie.” He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m having too nice of a time.” Shivers erupt up and down my arms. I tell myself it’s because his breath tickled, but even I don’t fully believe that. Being around him keeps every cell in my body on edge.
Making our way back inside, we each grab a glass of champagne from the silver tray. Griffin places his hand on my back as we move toward the assigned table up near the front. “I’m so glad I don’t have to give a speech.”
“Not much into public speaking?” I breathe in his clean scent, woodsy and expensive.
“I’m more of a body language type of guy.” I clench my thighs together at his husky tone. God, this man is unbelievable, and doesn’t seem like the party guy the media’s made him out to be.
But if he had to hire a date…something’s off.
I shake the thought away as Griffin holds my chair out for me. “Thank you, sir.” I can’t take my eyes off him as he walks around me toward his own chair. When I finally pull my eyes away I see a video camera with the ESPN logo on the side. My heart rises into my throat. I can’t be seen.
“I hear the food’s fantastic. My buddy snuck some earlier.” Griffin sits, chatting me up, but his words die when he sees I’m not paying attention. “What’s got your eye?”
“The cameras.” I turn my head, whispering to him, “I don’t want to be seen.”
“You’ll be fine, Carlie. I promise you.”
“Can you promise that?” I can’t hide the hysteria in my voice. “How can I get another job if I’m labeled Griffin Starke’s girlfriend? Then you’ll have to retract, and admit there is no girlfriend in the picture. That you hired someone, and—”
“Girlfriend?”
“I just meant…”
Oh shit. Oh shit.
“Well, dates are usually significant others, and in this case it’d be a girlfriend.” I cover my tracks, feeling the heat stinging my cheeks. Jesus, kill me now.
“Carlie.” Griffin takes my hand in his. The minute he does I feel my heart rate steady itself. “Everything will be fine. I will make sure of it.” I involuntarily nod my head, somehow trusting that this bad boy will keep my name out of the spotlight.
Dinner is delicious, and just like I asked, Griffin brings me a giant piece of cake the minute they cut and serve it up. I’m having so much fun that I forget that the night’s almost over.
The music changes from Sly and the Family Stone to a ballad from the eighties about a woman in red. A new tension arises between Griffin and me. I’m about to excuse myself to go to the restroom when he rises.
“Let’s dance.” He extends his hand. “The cameras are gone. It’s just us.”
I dance with every date at weddings, but this feels so different, like the stakes are higher and not just because of the cameras. I nod before I can stop myself, and Griffin leads me to the dance floor. We weave our way through couples old and young, swaying to the music. As if we’d done it a thousand times, Griffin slides his arms around my waist. I throw my arms over his giant shoulders and interlace my fingers behind his thick neck.
“This has turned out to be an okay night, huh?” He asks
“Yeah.” I agree. “Actually, it’s one of my better weddings.” His brow furrows, deep blue eyes glistening in the low light as the disco ball swirls overhead. “I’m very glad I took the job.”
Griffin smiles, then winces. “This kind of hurts my back leaning down like this.” He wraps one arm around my back, pulls me even closer, and takes my hand in his as I slide my hands on top of his massive chest. He rests his chin on the top of my head, making me feel safe and secure. A warmth washes over me. Maybe it’s the cheesy song, or the fact that tonight’s gone off without a hitch, but I close my eyes and allow myself to pretend that all of this is actually real.
