Chapter 8
H
is big brother looked so happy Tucker thought he might burst.
The wedding had gone off without a hitch. Well, the forbidden maid of honor caught her heel in the aisle runner and almost fell, but she’d made an elegant save and life had gone on.
Now they were all back at the lodge, greeting guests as they arrived.
The ceremony itself had been simple and just for immediate friends and family. He’d overheard the mothers say there were over two hundred people coming to the reception.
Tucker wondered if he even knew two hundred people. Real friends, not acquaintances.
“Good job,” Nichole said as she stood next to him in line beside Cooper. She was rubbing her arms, still cold from the ceremony. He wanted to put his arms around her and warm her up but was certain that would not be acceptable.
She had chosen to wear a feminine version of a tux: the fitted jacket with the pleated shirt and bow tie, but instead of pants she wore a black pencil skirt and some awesome black heels. The moment he saw her, he’d envisioned the entire ensemble scattered around his suite. Her long red hair was loosely secured in a bun, giving her that sexy, rumpled flight attendant look. He wanted to free her hair and put his face in it. Breathe her in.
“I stood there, Nic. It wasn’t like I could have done a bad job.”
“You walked all of us girls up the aisle.” He had the maid of honor and the bridesmaid on each arm while Nichole walked ahead of them. Alone. All he could think of was how nice her ass looked, wondering if she was wearing more of that crazy flesh-crushing underwear.
When the line of guests turned from a flood to a trickle, they moved into the main room and took their seats.
The DJ made the formal announcement, and Roslyn and Cooper walked in with big smiles amid a cloud of bubbles.
Being at the head table meant they were served first, which was good because he was starving.
Nichole was seated next to him, between him and Cooper, and they leaned across her to chat about some of their relatives. He propped his hand on the back of her chair for leverage only. But soon his thumb was stroking the back of her neck, causing a shiver.
“Are you still cold?” Cooper asked in concern.
“No. I’m fine,” she answered with a big smile. The fake one.
When everyone was served, Nichole stood and walked over to the small stage where the DJ was holding out a microphone.
Her toast.
Tucker had forgotten the one good thing about being passed over as best man. He wasn’t subjected to the horror of having to give a witty yet heart-wrenching speech in front of two hundred people.
Nichole swallowed and smoothed her skirt before she smiled and turned on her professional Southern charm.
“Thank you all for being here with us today to share in this wonderful celebration for Roslyn and Cooper. Many of you weren’t at the service, so I’ll share some of the details.
“It was chilly out by the lake, as you’d expect for February. But when Roslyn walked down the aisle and stood next to Cooper, the crisp breeze and chill were all forgotten. It was as if a warmth came off them. As they exchanged the words that would bind them together for the rest of their lives, I felt a peace that only comes from watching two people do something so right.
“Many of you are probably wondering why the best man is a girl.” There were a few chuckles at that. “I have been Cooper’s best friend since we were thirteen years old. I’ve seen him make horrible decisions when it came to women, most of which could have been avoided if he had taken my advice.” More laughs and a nod of agreement from Cooper.
“The first time I saw him with Roslyn, I realized my job of giving advice and helping him through heartbreak was finally over. He’d found the one who would take over the job of giving advice, and who would protect him from heartbreak for the rest of his life.
“I can honestly say I have no doubts about giving up that responsibility to Roslyn. In the short time I’ve known her, I have seen her strength put to the test, and I’ve seen her love for Cooper in all the small things that make up a big life.
“So, in an attempt to make it through this speech without tearing up, I ask that you raise your glasses in a toast to Roslyn and Cooper. May each of us have a person to love us as fiercely as they love each other.”
The room was filled with the sound of tinkling glass, and then a cheer and applause rang out.
Tucker stared at the woman walking back to their table in amazement.
“You nailed it, Nic,” he told her when she sat next to him.
“I was so nervous.” She picked up her napkin with shaky hands and placed it across her lap.
While the bride and groom were busy kissing and posing for pictures, he reached across and took her hand in his, giving it a tender squeeze.
“You were perfect. I know why he picked you.”
She looked up at him, and they stared at each other for a long moment. He pulled his hand back right before Cooper leaned over to offer his praise on her speech.
“Thanks, Nic. That was great,” he said, his eyes a little misty. Tucker wanted to hate Nichole for stealing this moment. For making Cooper so happy he nearly cried, but he couldn’t. She was a great person. Better than Tucker ever could be. For that reason, he was glad Cooper had someone like her in his life.
When dinner was over, the happy couple cut the cake. Tucker was proud of his brother for feeding his new wife gently, despite the calls from the crowd for them to smash it all over each other.
“That was nice,” Nichole approved beside him.
“Yeah. I don’t get the whole smearing-it-all-over-each-other thing. I hate to see cake wasted.” They laughed together, and for a second their gazes locked, her blue-green eyes drawing him in.
Then the DJ interrupted with a call out to “all the single ladies.”
“Oh, God. Hide me,” she requested. But it was too late. Riley was already waving her out to stand beside her.
Tucker chuckled at her expression as she walked out onto the dance floor. Apparently, she had the custom of catching the bouquet confused with a lethal injection.
“I’m so hitting that tonight,” a voice said from behind him.
He turned to see his older cousin, Richie, looking at Nichole possessively.
“Go for it, Nicki!” he called. She sent back a glare in his direction. No one called her Nicki. She hated it. He’d never known why until today, but he had only ever done it once.
Because Riley was standing right next to Nichole, and Roslyn was obviously aiming for her sister, the bouquet flew through the air in their direction.
He watched as Nichole stood there like a statue, with her arms loosely crossed in front of her. The bundle of flowers sailed through the air, hitting her square in her ample chest, and then rolled down her bosom into her crossed arms.
She had made no move whatsoever to catch the bouquet, but there it was, in her arms nonetheless. Tucker couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on her shocked face.
“I’ll be happy to catch the garter and put it on her,” Richie said to the guy next to him. “Then take it off again in her room.”
Well, that couldn’t happen. Which meant Tucker would need to catch the garter.
Richie had always been a bully, despite his scrawny size. Tucker wasn’t usually one for paybacks, but if this asshole was planning on touching Nic, he was going to need to stop him.
He strolled up to the dance floor, giving Nichole a wink.
“Nice catch,” he said, earning an eye roll.
He tried to catch Cooper’s attention so he could convey his need for the garter, but Cooper was otherwise occupied with removing the garter from his wife’s thigh.
Tucker had no choice but to be understanding, despite his frustration. He chose a strategic spot in the middle of the herd and waited for the snap.
It went left and Tucker had to make a leap over the minister, ramming into Richie for the steal. They fell to the floor in a heap, but Tucker stood with the satin-covered elastic in victory.
“Damn it, Tuck!” Richie complained as Tucker spun the garter smugly on his index finger. He threw Nichole a wink, and she seemed somewhat relieved.
The guests cheered and laughed as Nichole was seated in front of him.
“Don’t do anything embarrassing,” she pleaded with him.
“Will you give me the opportunity to remove this later?” he asked, looking up at her through his lashes as he guided the elastic over her sexy black pump.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tucker.” She had the fake smile on her face for the guests.
He moved the garter up farther, letting his fingertips glide over her thigh-high stockings. His hands were under her skirt and he could feel the edge of where the nylon stopped and her hot skin began.
“God, Nichole.” He sighed, looking right into her eyes before he slid his hands out from under her skirt. The crowd cheered, but he could barely hear over the sound of his heartbeat, thudding in his ears.
He was screwed.
She sat there looking at him, rather stunned.
He hadn’t done anything but slip a frilly piece of elastic over her thigh, and yet it had felt so intimate. Even with two hundred people in attendance.
Her face flushed hot as she gathered her composure.
Tucker was still kneeling in front of her as the music changed from “The Stripper” by David Rose to classical background music. There was no way he could get up yet.
“You were right,” Tucker said, still kneeling in front of her.
“About . . . ?”
“I should have worn underwear. I’m hard as a hickory log.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Tucker. A
log
? It’s not a log.” She shook her head at him.
“I don’t remember hearing any complaints.” He smiled and gave a thumbs-up for a photo.
“I would say maybe a large, sturdy branch but not a
log
.” She was still sitting, though the DJ was on his way over to take the chair.
“I think you’re missing the point of my problem.” Or, more likely, she was amused by his problem.
“Fine, I’ll stand in front of you. Stay close.”
Stay close?
“That is sure not going to help me, Nic.” She didn’t seem to understand that at twenty-seven he didn’t just sprout wood every time he came in close proximity to a female. It was
her
. It was knowing what was going on under her sexy skirt and wanting to see her in nothing but those heels. Damn it!
As they stood—with a small groan from Tucker—and made their way back to the table, the DJ said, “And now we have a special song to be played by the groom’s brother.”
“Fuck me,” Tucker muttered quietly as Nichole giggled at his predicament. Yep, she was amused.
Fortunately, he was able to hold his guitar in front of him. Before he walked out on the dance floor to perform, he turned to Nic and pointed.
“You owe me, and I plan to collect later.” He was smiling at her expression and thinking about what he was going to do to her when he turned away to go sing a romantic wedding song.
The DJ had set up a microphone, and Nichole watched as Tucker skillfully adjusted it and tuned his guitar.
“Hello, everyone,” he said with a big grin. “I’m the little brother.” People clapped and laughed. “So, I wrote a song for the happy couple with the help of a dear friend who happens to be the best man.”
He pointed over at the table as Nichole’s mouth dropped open.
“Nichole, thanks for your help with this.” He strummed the guitar. “You’ll all know the parts she came up with because they’re the really good ones.” He smiled at her again and started playing.
She was stunned still by the sound that filled the large banquet room. No one made a sound while he sang. She remembered the words, because she’d helped with them, but she hadn’t heard the song since it was completed, or sung with the intensity he was singing it now.
Tears pricked at her eyes as his rumbly voice spoke to her.
Cooper had taken Roslyn’s hand and guided her to the dance floor, but Nichole couldn’t take her gaze away from Tucker. His eyes were closed as he sang. His foot moved, timing his strums, and her heart filled with pride and something else she refused to acknowledge.
This was Tucker Matthews. Her best friend’s screwed-up younger brother. But he was also the man who had made her heart leap when he’d simply stroked her neck with his thumb. Who made her weak in the knees when he threatened to
collect
later.
When he was finished, the guests applauded, and he winked at her. He seemed so comfortable up there in front of everyone. She knew this crowd was tiny in comparison to the stadiums he must have filled in the past.
The DJ put on a different song as Tucker put his guitar away and was approached by guests who had probably just now figured out his celebrity status.
After the bride and groom danced, it was customary for the rest of the wedding party to partner up and dance beside them. She expected Tucker would ask Riley to dance, but he walked over to Nichole instead.
“Would you do me the honor?” he asked sweetly. She waited a second to see if he would follow it up with an insult. He simply held out his hand expectantly.
She took it and stood. She felt his other hand lightly at the small of her back as they walked out on the dance floor; then his arm encircled her waist and pulled her close to his body.
God, he felt good.
“Thanks,” she said.
“For what?”
“For saving me from dancing with Cousin Richie.” They both looked over at the bar, where the wiry guy was throwing them back. “When he walked in he told me I was still smokin’.”
“He’s right about that.” Tucker’s fingers gripped her harder, pulling her a fraction closer. She could feel his breath in her hair, feel his amazing warmth. And he smelled like sex on very clean sheets. God.