Dodging the dancers on the rented floor, he made his way to the head table and scooped up the proper bouquets—and not the big one with ribbons and a floofy—was that a technical term? Probably not, but it was the only way he could think to describe the flouncing greenery, ribbons, and flowers. Regardless, it only took him a few minutes to return to the cake table, bunches in hand.
What he returned to was . . . amazing.
Heidi had managed to stack the rectangular cakes on top of one another, angling them artistically. The boxes were on the floor next to her feet, and she’d commandeered another flower arrangement from somewhere and was currently placing the buds around the cakes.
“Um,” he said, setting the bouquets on the table. “Are you a magician or something?”
She stuck a rose into a gap, not looking at him as she continued placing flowers, adding in ones from the bunches he’d brought over. “Nope.”
Okay then. Apparently, this woman could hold a grudge and a half.
Not that he could really blame her.
Most women didn’t appreciate being used—and even if that wasn’t what he’d intended, that was what she’d thought.
So, he knew he deserved the frosty reception.
He just . . . didn’t like it.
Stifling a sigh, he bent and picked up the boxes, folding them and stowing them beneath the table. “Maybe a more appropriate question would be, how did you learn to do that?”
“It’s a hobby.” A beat as she dismantled her bouquet, tucking in tulips and roses at regular intervals.
“What other hobbies do you have?”
Hazel eyes on his, condescension in their depths. “Really?” she asked. “We’re really going to have this conversation?”
“Are you always so prickly?”
A sigh was his only response.
He bit back a smile. “Your hair looks nice.”
She sniffed.
“Heidi.”
She froze, head tilting up to the sky, hair floating behind her like some curly brown cloud, her throat exposed and tempting. His mouth watered, actually watered, remembering how he’d dragged his lips over that gentle slope, how he’d traced his tongue along the silken skin.
“I truly am sorry.”
Her head flopped to the side, tilting enough so she could meet his gaze. “And I truly meant what I said.” She straightened, eyes serious. “I’m not interested. I want someone who wants me enough to stick around.” A shrug. “The truth is that I know you well enough by now to know you’re not that kind of man.”
That stung.
But he couldn’t deny it, couldn’t pretend she was wrong.
He didn’t have staying power.
“I know.”
Her expression changed, and he hated that he didn’t know her well enough to discern the undercurrent in it. At any rate, she focused her attention back on the cakes, and he watched in silence as she turned the supermarket confections into something that belonged in a fancy bakery.
“I wish I’d ordered icing, too,” she murmured, perching a final gathering of blooms on the salvaged tier, which she hadn’t stacked on the others, but had somehow made its separation seem intentional with the way she’d arranged the flowers.
“It looks beautiful.”
She froze, almost as though she’d forgotten he was there.
He was so attuned to her that he didn’t think it would be possible to not be aware of her. Ever since he’d walked into the church the night before—no. Since the moment he’d joined in on that dinner all those months ago, tagging along with Jaime and Kate to meet up with Heidi, Cora, and Kelsey, he hadn’t been able to get this smart, gorgeous woman out of his brain.
Brad couldn’t even say it was because she came in a beautiful package—though he certainly appreciated her curves, her pretty face with those expressive eyes and kissable lips. But his fascination had begun at that dinner and had only grown through the night. When Kelsey had been picked up by her fiancé, Tanner, and Cora had left with Kate and Jaime because they all lived close, he’d offered her a ride ostensibly because his apartment was close to her place, but in truth, because he’d wanted to spend more time with her.
Yes, he was attracted to her.
But that attraction wasn’t just sexual. She was witty and more than once, she’d made some offhand comment that had him bursting into laughter. Beyond that, he could tell she was a good person who cared about the people at that table—including him.
Because he was related to Jaime. Because Jaime was smitten, and because he made Kate happy.
So, he’d had an in, and he’d been attracted to her.
And . . . they’d ended up in bed. And the sex had been incredible. And he’d—
“Ruined,” she murmured.
Brad blinked for a moment, wondering if she’d picked the thought from his mind or perhaps if he’d spoken aloud. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring down at the cake, a sour expression on her face.
Then she sighed and rolled her shoulders, exposing her neck as she stretched her head from side to side again. Tempting him. Again.
“Oh well,” she said, straightening on another sigh. “I’ve done what I can.” She fussed with one more flower then stepped back. “I should find Fuzzy McFeatherston and make sure he doesn’t get within a hundred feet of this.”
“I took him home.”
Her lips parted, and it took everything in him to not taste her. “What?”
“I figured it was safer to get him back to his coop at Kate and Jaime’s.” Which had been convenient, considering the venue they’d chosen to hold the reception at was only twenty minutes from their house.
“You left for forty minutes?”
He glanced at his watch. “Fifty-six,” he said, “But who’s counting? Especially when you’re wiping frosting out of your curls.”
Her lips tipped up into a smile that he felt all the way to his cock. Then she sobered, “But it’s your brother’s wedding.”
“I snuck out while they were taking their individual pictures, snuck back in when you and Kate were doing your thing.” He shrugged. “Also, I couldn’t exactly just shove him
