He studied her at dinner, listening carefully as she talked about her job. Her smile was constant and for as confident as she sounded, Harry caught the shadow that fell across her eyes, the one that made him want to ask what she wasn’t saying.
When they touched, a jolt of need surged through his body. It was a simple thing. He put his hand on her elbow and stared into her eyes as they wandered from the table to the kitchen.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal.
It definitely wasn’t anything important.
But still, in that one brush of contact, his heart reprioritized every other thing to make room for Willow, and he could see the echo of his feelings written all over her face.
He wanted to say something witty. Something meaningful. Something worthy of that somehow monumental moment. As usual, he said nothing until Ian interrupted.
“You’re in the way, little brother.” With a bump of his shoulder, he shoved Harry into the kitchen, away from Willow.
He looked over his shoulder and watched her blink in shock as Juliet took her plate. Ian gave him a funny look and Harry shrugged it off.
Get a hold of yourself, man. You’re acting like an idiot.
The rest of the family surged into the kitchen, cleaning plates and refilling wineglasses before gathering on the deck to enjoy the sunset. James clapped him on the back. “Everything okay in there?” He tapped Harry’s forehead. “You’re even quieter than normal.”
Over his brother’s shoulder, he watched Willow attempting to wipe any trace of judgement off her face as Lilah cornered her and forced a conversation. “I’m fine.” Harry heard how distracted he sounded and forced his attention back to the man in front of him. “Better than ever.”
James followed his gaze, then laughed, a knowing grin curling his lips. “Go get her, Tiger.” With that, he joined the rest of the family on the deck, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen.
Lilah must have said something horrible, as only she could, because shock dropped Willow’s jaw. She recovered quickly, masking her surprise with a smile and a gentle flare of her fingers, but Harry could see the distress in her eyes—a fleeting glance over Lilah’s shoulder in the hopes Juliet might materialize and save her.
His feet were moving before he’d even decided what he was going to say. He appeared at Willow’s side and took her elbow, his heart racing like a gull after a piece of food.
“As best man, I feel like it’s my duty to get to know the maid of honor.” As excuses went, it was pretty weak, but considering the one and a half seconds he had to prepare, it was better than nothing.
He led her past Lilah, onto the deck, tossing an apologetic look to his sister who glared before turning on her heel and heading in the opposite direction. She’d be mad at him, but she lived for drama, so it was almost like he’d done her a favor by giving her a reason to get up in arms over something.
“I felt obligated to save you from my sister,” he said as they drew to a stop at the end of the deck. “And I’m sorry for whatever it was she said to you.”
Willow smiled and it was like watching a sunrise. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
A lock of hair blew across her forehead and Harry fought the urge to brush it off her face. Get a grip, Moore. At least pretend to be cool. “I know Lilah and there’s plenty to apologize for. But you’re sweet for being polite.”
Willow’s laugh was the same contradiction of textures as the rest of her. It was deep and low, warm like whiskey, yet soft and sweet like apple pie. She gave a small shrug and tilted her head, her hair sliding over her shoulder in an avalanche of golden light. “My mom always said if I didn’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all. So, I’m staying silent on the matter.” She pinched her fingers and twisted them in front of her lips as if to say ‘locked up tight.’
“Wise women, you and your mama.”
With a gentle nod, she gave her attention to the darkening sky stretching out over the water. “It’s beautiful here. So open. So…” She flared her long fingers as she searched for the word. “I don’t know. I’m used to hustle and bustle. To buildings packed so close together there’s nowhere to go but up. I’m used to strangers crowded against me. And so much noise.” She peeked at Harry. “All this wide open space is pretty, it really is, but it makes me feel vulnerable somehow.”
“That’s funny. I’ve been to New York a few times and always love the energy for the first day or two. After about a week, I end up feeling claustrophobic.”
Willow offered a smile, then fell quiet, lost in her thoughts. As much as Harry appreciated the silence, he wanted to know more about her. The only way to do that was to get her speaking again.
“Did you grow up in the city?”
“I grew up in a city, not the city.” The wind tossed her hair across her face again. She tucked the stray lock behind her ear before leaning her back against the railing. “My parents danced for Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre and that’s where I grew up. I trained in the school as soon as I was old enough. Grew up in the theater. The whole deal. Ballet’s in my blood. I had no choice in the matter.” She shrugged and ducked her chin into her shoulder, then glanced up at him with those blue eyes, and his heart melted. “I moved to New York when I was sixteen.”
“By yourself!?” He was simultaneously incredulous and filled with respect for the kid who could do something so brave.
“Yep. My mom had already retired from performing and been promoted to Ballet Mistress…” Willow paused,
