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11
Faith shivered.She didn’t know what to make of Shane’s sudden attentiveness. She clapped when the happy couple were announced man and wife, then whooped as they kissed, and exited down the center aisle. The reception would be held at a restaurant just out of town, surrounded by a lush garden where photos had already been taken earlier in the day. She and Shane farewelled Charity, who’d decided not to stay, and drove over together. They were early, so they walked through the gardens while they waited for things to kick off. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, and she loved it. First, he rested a hand in the small of her back, then slid it over her hip, around the curve around her butt, and repeated the motion. She wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. Around them, the flowerbeds burst with color, and their light perfume permeated the air.
Shane took her hand and drew her around a corner so they were separated from the other wedding guests by shrubbery. As soon as they were out of sight, he grabbed her by the hips and drew her to him.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
Her heart hammered in her throat. No one could see them, which meant he wasn’t playing a role. He truly wanted to kiss her. She should refuse, but he was too tempting. Instead of replying, she took the initiative and pressed her lips to his. He pulled her closer, returning the kiss. She swayed into him, breathing him in, loving the way he tasted and smelled. Better than ice cream. So much better. Their tongues touched, and he groaned. Lust speared downward. Holy moly, she’d love to hear that groan every day. Preferably when they were both naked and he was sliding inside her.
He drew back, panting, and touched his forehead to hers. “God, Faith.”
She angled her head, reclaiming his mouth. She hadn’t had enough of him yet.
“Whoa, sorry!” The exclamation made them leap apart. “We’ll just, um....”
Faith righted herself and turned. Brooke and Jack were standing at the end of their private grotto, their cheeks flushed as they held hands.
“We were looking for a private spot,” Jack said wryly. “Guess we need to find one that’s not already taken.”
Brooke giggled, and her hand flew to her mouth. She looked mortified. “We’re so sorry. I guess the wedding got us all excited, what with being so recently engaged ourselves.”
“No problem,” Faith said breezily, as though people walked in on her making out with the guy of her fantasies all the time. “We’ve had our turn. We’d better get back to the party now.” She drew Shane away, noticing the way Brooke’s eyes widened and turned speculative. Everyone in town knew she and Shane were only dating for appearances, but now people might begin wondering if there was more to the story. Not that she expected Brooke to gossip, but these things tended to find their way into the world.
“Well, that was awkward,” Shane said as they returned to the group. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she assured him. “Let’s see who we’re sitting with.”
It turned out they’d been seated at a table with her parents, Leon’s parents, and Leon. Way to make things awkward. Since they were the first to go inside, Faith rearranged the name tags so she wasn’t sandwiched between Shane and Leon because that wasn’t a situation she wanted to be in. Before long, other people filtered in and joined them.
Dinner was buffet-style, and when they finished eating, they made conversation around the table. It was then that she noticed Shane’s arm creeping along the back of her chair. When Leon asked her what it was like living in the bay, his hand dipped down and stroked the side of her neck. She shivered and leaned into the caress. His touch ignited all of her senses, and she couldn’t help but hope that maybe it wasn’t all acting. As he removed his arm and rested his hand on her thigh beneath the table where no one could see, she wanted it to be for no other reason than that he liked to touch her.
They sat through speeches and toasts, and with each one that passed, Shane grew bolder, caressing the inside of her thigh with his thumb, working higher, dangerously near to the place where all her body heat had centered. If only he’d close the final distance. But he didn’t. Probably just as well because she doubted she’d be able to hold herself together if he did. She wanted him too much.
When the music started, she shot to her feet. “Want to dance?”
Shane’s brow furrowed. “I’m not what you’d call a great dancer. Or even a passable one.”
She smiled. “As long as you’re an enthusiastic one, I don’t care.”
Grabbing his hand, she drew him onto the dance floor. A slow song played, and she looped her hands behind his neck and swayed from side to side, pleased when he began moving with her. He’d been right—he was a terrible dancer, but each time their bodies brushed, awareness flared between them, and based on the darkening of his eyes, she wasn’t the only one who felt it.
If she’d ever seen him this way before, she’d have been a goner. The absentminded professor was a distant memory. The man in his place resembled The Incredible Hulk far more than Dr. Bruce Banner. His gaze was intense, his jaw tight, and he looked like the slightest provocation could send him up in flames. She wanted to provoke him. She’d always been the type to poke a sleeping beast.
Swaying closer, her mouth near his ear, and she murmured, “I think you should kiss me.”
She drew back just in time to see his Adam’s apple bob. “For the ruse?”
She shook her head. “Because you want to.”
One brow cocked up. “I do?”
She nodded. “Yes, you do.”
She half expected him to laugh it off, but the dimness of the dance floor and the romance of the wedding must have worked their magic because he released her hips, cupped her face between his palms, and kissed her full on the mouth. Desire exploded like starbursts behind her eyelids. Pressing closer, she tangled her tongue with his, tasting wine and cheesecake on his breath. She gave up on any semblance of dancing and put everything she had into the kiss, hoping he could tell how much it meant to her and how much she wanted him.
They broke apart, both breathing heavily, and he searched her eyes—for what, she didn’t know—then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. She ran a finger around her lips in case her lipstick had smudged, and they took up where they’d left off—with the dancing, not the kissing.
A couple of songs—and another stolen kiss—later, a voice called her name. She turned and found herself facing Mason Delphine. He was resplendent in a white tuxedo and black shirt, but she didn’t give a glowworm’s ass.
