She narrowed her eyes at me again as she tore open the envelope.

“I don’t know what’s in the card. He delivered it to me sealed.”

I watched her pull the card out of the envelope and begin to read. As her eyes dashed across the heavy cardstock, tears spilled down her cheeks, ruining her makeup. I had no idea what was in that card, but Jared must’ve done good.

“I love that big-headed boy,” she blubbered while opening the small jewelry box. And when she saw the bracelet? She lost it. The photographer captured every moment.

After I helped her put on the bracelet, James swooped in to touch up her makeup. The rest of the bridesmaids crowded around Brandi to coo and swoon over her gift and Jared’s message in the card. I finally turned back to Darcy. She was looking at Brandi, a sweet but sort of sad smile on her lips, and her eyes twinkled brightly with unshed tears. My chest clenched tight the moment her eyes met mine, that same sensation of not being able to breathe that overcame me last night.

No one would accuse Darcy of trying to upstage the bride. The dress was demure but so sheer and so close to her skin tone that it seemed as if she had grown a protective gossamer layer filled with twinkling gems that draped over her curves and down to the floor. It was an easy sort of bohemian glamour that was all her, and no other woman downstairs would have been able to pull it off.

“You look stunning,” I said breathlessly.

She smiled and ducked her head shyly. “The old lady cleans up nice, huh?”

“You’re no old lady, Darcy.” Realizing that someone might overhear me, I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Would an old lady come the way you did on this porch last night?”

A soft gasp made her chest rise and fall sharply. “I guess not,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching into a secret smile as her skin flushed enticingly under the muted but glamorous makeup she had on.

I stepped back and offered my elbow. “Shall we?”

“Let’s!” She giggled girlishly and took my arm.

12

Darcy

Tommy slowed his pace once we reached the hallway outside of my bedroom. When I closed the door behind us, and the tinkling of female laughter faded, he crowded both of us behind a big potted rubber tree plant that hid us from the bedroom door and the hallway. His hands settled on my hips, and they felt so hot that I had to look down at them, worried that the delicate fabric hadn’t disintegrated under his touch. Drawing the tip of his nose up the line of my neck, he whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

“Not on the lips. James spent hours on this makeup, and she’d murder me if I smudged it.”