I frown. “Sounds intense.”
“They got a tight rein on her, from what I hear.”
Wavy walks over, dragging her husband to the dance floor. As more people join in dancing to the upbeat song, I chuckle, watching my brother, thinking I never imagined something like that. Hell, I never imagined being here with him at all. We've had our differences, that's for sure. But time heals most wounds and ours have cleaned up nicely. The wounds I'm facing now are within me. I've made right most of my wrongs with the people of this world. It's just my own demons that can't seem to let go.
“Excuse me?” A sweet voice, a tap on my shoulder.
I turn. It’s the woman I’ve been drawn to. The sweet one, the one who's much too good for me. You can tell it by her corn-yellow hair, her bright blue eyes, her freckled face. She's petite and curvy and cute as a button. The opposite of me in every possible way.
“Hey,” she says again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It's long, to her waist and all soft curls done up for the day. “I’m Marley Grove,” she says. “I’ve been waiting all day for someone to introduce us, but the party's going to end soon and no one has. So I thought I would come and introduce myself.”
“I'm Maker,” I say, offering her my hand, wishing I was the kind of man who could give her more.
Our hands touch a beat too long before I pull mine back and run it over my beard, telling myself to get a grip, to walk away.
Before I can, she speaks again, persistent.
“I was wondering if maybe you'd like to dance?” she asks.
“Dance?” I repeat.
She nods. Hope in her eyes. I can practically see it pounding in her heart. “I’m not very good at dancing,” she says.
I set my glass on a table and take her hand. “Well, lucky for you, Marley Grove, I am.”
Marley
I have no idea what has come over me. Okay, I have an idea, a tiny little inkling. It may have to do with the epic fight I just had with my brothers, Jett, Gavin, and Dylan. They came here tonight as my “chaperones” but they wanted to leave, to get home before midnight, and considering it’s a three-hour boat ride back to Riverside, they wanted to leave now.
Just as the reception was getting fun.
I refused, and they got mad, and Beam told them to leave.
So, it was a tad bit dramatic. Which is why I promptly had a shot of vodka. And the three glasses of champagne that followed.
I bite my bottom lip, not remembering how many drinks I had, as Maker takes my hand and guides me toward the dance floor. Walking over to him and introducing myself is so out of character, it's crazy. Not that I'm not outgoing or good at meeting new people. I am. I'm a Riverside girl through and through, and working at the bar and grill has taught me to get to know everyone who comes in, which is how I got to know Beam and Bellamy in the first place, and why I'm at their wedding tonight.
But my personality has nothing to do with why introducing myself to Maker is so out of the ordinary for me. What's out of character is taking a chance on that butterfly feeling deep inside my belly, the feeling I had the moment I locked eyes with him. I remember seeing him before, passing through the bar and grill, but he never stayed long enough to pay any attention to me. But God, I paid attention to him. And now that he's here holding my hand, I’m not going to waste this opportunity.
"Where'd you learn to dance?" I ask as he wraps an arm around my waist, his big, firm palm on my back, his other hand holding mine. My entire body feels like it’s holding its breath.
The music slows, and we move as if we know what we are doing. I surely don't. Heck, I was born and raised in Alaska. I didn't have much time to learn the waltz. I was mostly focused on fishing, and not getting my foot caught in a bear trap. But Maker knows how to move, which is why I have that flip-flop feeling happening now. Again. Constantly.
God, this man is handsome, dark and dangerous. And yes, I've seen plenty of bearded hotties over the years, but none quite as sexy as this one.
I've been warned. Beam, and Wavy, and their friend Jemma, were adamant. Do not go talk to Maker. He’s been in trouble with the law … and worse. He used to run a freaking drug cartel. Advice which, playing into this innocent naivety that I am so damn good at, I promptly ignored. I didn't want to be told what to do, who I could talk to.
Heck, I've been told where to go, and when, my entire life by my big brothers. The River Boys are ball busters, if there ever were some. Meaning I've never been in a relationship because my brothers make certain I'm not. I don't quite know what they're hoping to achieve. Do they want me to stay single forever and just continue to live in a cabin with them, cooking and cleaning?
And as I lose myself on the dance floor, I'm realizing that is exactly what my brothers want. They want to keep me locked up like Cinderella, doing their dirty work. They can remain bachelors in Riverside doing God knows what, with who knows who, while I do their laundry, drying out their wool socks and long underwear.
“You okay, Marley?" Maker asks. "I was telling you where I learned to dance, but it seems like you've floated away."
"Oh," I say, blinking quickly, probably too quickly. I probably look insane, but Maker gives me a
