The Best Part of Me (35 page)

Because after all, actions spoke louder than words.

Several months later…

 

“Come on, Quinn. All maidenly asses must get to the dance floor.”

Quinn snapped out of her daze and looked at her roommate. Darcy was standing next to her in a formfitting charcoal satin dress. It was identical to the one Quinn was wearing. Strapless with a shirred empire bodice, a thick waistband of the same color, and a formfitting skirt that hit anywhere between just above the knee (Darcy), mid-thigh (Quinn) or just barely long enough to cover the ass (Lisbeth).

“Yeah, chica, that means you.” Darcy pulled at her arm.

It was a brilliantly sunny spring day in late May, and Quinn was daydreaming as she often found herself doing at weddings.

The whole thing was just so romantic. Two people, pledging their lives to one another. Basically telling the rest of the world that they'd reached the pinnacle in their search for their soul mate. Or at least that was the way she liked to look at it.

Erin and Rory Hughes had been married earlier in the afternoon beneath a gorgeous trellis of wispy white flowers and bright green leaves. Rory had looked truly handsome. Not because he'd tamed his crazy mop of copper hair but because the joy that radiated from him was palpable. He wore a dark gray suit, a white collared shirt, and in true Rory fashion, black Converse sneakers.

Those had been a surprise for Erin, who would certainly never have allowed them if she'd known. However, when she'd finally realized what shoes her groom was wearing, she hadn't cared. Everyone in attendance had noticed one momentary pause when her eyes had bugged out a little before she looked skyward with a prayer for patience. Her beaming smile had turned into a giggle, and the Converse shoes were forgotten.

The wedding was short and sweet. Then there was an hour or so of picture taking. Then the merriment began when the band struck up a lively song and the reception started in full swing. Aunt Maura's backyard was choked full of Ballagh residents. Beer and whiskey flowed along with loud laughter and slightly off-key singing, which could most likely be heard two towns away.

Quinn, having performed her bridesmaid responsibilities, was officially off duty.

“Nah, Darcy. I'm gonna sit out the bouquet toss. You go ahead.”

“You're fucking with me, right?”

“Sorry. I'm perfectly comfortable right here.”

And she was. She had the best seat in the house. Because her seat happened to be the lap of the most handsome, most swoon-worthy, belongs-on-the-cover-of-
GQ
-magazine guest at the wedding reception.

There was no possible way that Ewan could look any better in his suit if Tom Ford himself had personally measured him. His black suit jacket was lying over the back of the chair at the moment, leaving him in a crisp white button-down shirt rolled halfway up his forearms and black slacks that fit perfectly to his lean, tight thighs. Quinn had almost stroked out when she'd caught a glimpse of him earlier waiting at the bar.

His hands, as usual, had been shoved in his pockets, pulling his pants tightly over his impeccable ass. She'd stopped what she was doing to consider whether his butt looked better in his suit pants or bare. Even though bare won out in the end, it was a super-close call. That was how good he looked.

The object of her sexy brain meltdowns was currently running his thumb over the top few vertebrae of her spine. Those lazy circles were causing heat to pool between her legs. If only the reception had been in some banquet hall with ample closet and coatroom space. Regardless, Quinn wasn't moving. Darcy could go toss bouquets with someone else.

“Quinn, you have to come,” she said before lowering her voice to a forceful whisper. “Uber-Skank Barbie is gonna be out there. Let's go!”

“Uber-Skank Barbie?” Unfortunately, this could be any number of women at the reception if Darcy was the one saying it.

“For Christ's sake. Sean's date!” Darcy hissed.

Quinn looked over at the table Sean was sitting at and noticed the tall, leggy blonde sitting next to him. The so-called uber-skank was delicately picking through her salad plate, her pinkie finger sticking straight up in the air. She had on a tight red dress with high heels, and her hair was piled up on top of her head a good six inches into the air. Sean, bless his heart, looked completely bored, tapping out a beat on his thighs with his fingertips.

“How do you know she's an uber-skank?” Quinn asked.

Darcy scoffed. “Look at her! Are you blind? Ewan, tell your woman that
that
is a skank.”

Ewan looked over in her direction and tilted his head.

“Slightly skankish,” he confirmed evenly.

“Yeah?” Quinn asked him and he shrugged.

“I've tried to tell Erin to throw it in the opposite direction of where she's standing. So would you please get off your ass and come with me out to the bouquet toss so we can win this thing?”

Darcy looked panicked. In the last few months since they'd been living together, Darcy had been working so hard on losing weight for this wedding. As she constantly repeated, she was not going to be the token chubby bridesmaid. And when push came to shove, Darcy had stuck to her diet. She still had curves that no diet would be able to get rid of, but now she looked closer to a curvy pinup cover girl.

“It's not a competition, Darce,” Quinn said before looping her arms around Ewan's neck. “Besides, I don't want someone to take my seat.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “As if anyone would take your goddamn seat. We can't let her catch the fuckin' flowers!”

When Quinn just looked at her and shook her head, Darcy sighed and bit her lip.

“I didn't want to have to tell you this,” Darcy started hesitantly, “but I overheard her telling Sean that it was a guarantee that she was gonna catch the bouquet. Something about how all these bitches were gonna be sorely disappointed.”

Quinn went still and frowned.

“Say what?”

“Ah, Christ,” Ewan muttered behind her.

“I know. Can you believe that shit? She said it was a guarantee, Quinn. A
guarantee
.”

Quinn slowly stood up and looked over at Slightly Skankish Barbie. She was wiping her dainty hands on her napkin, smiling down at Sean. Was there mockery in that smile?

“Here,” she said to Ewan, pulling off her dangly diamond earrings before handing them to him. “Hold on to these for me.”

“Quinn,” he warned, trying hard to fight a smile.

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I'll be right back.”

He grinned and shook his head.

Quinn made her way out to the group of women standing in front of the slightly raised stage. Darcy gave her a little pat on the behind and winked at her. They pushed their way to the front and whistled at Erin, who was taking her place up on the stage. Quinn stationed herself next to Sean's date, taking notice that the woman had a good six inches on her, and that wasn't counting the nest of hair on her head. Quinn could have sworn the girl looked down her nose at her before smirking.

“Here we go, ladies!” Erin yelled.

Shouts of encouragement were mixed with shouts of discouragement from the men in the crowd not wanting their dates to catch the fated flowers meaning a possible future ball-and-chain type arrangement.

“On the count of three.” Erin turned around so her back was to the crowd. “One!”

Quinn dug her right toe into the ground.

“Two!”

She hiked her satin skirt up a little higher on her thighs so she could get some good leverage.

“Three!”

The bouquet flew straight up in a truly pitiful throw. It landed in front of the group of women but closer to Quinn's side. Quinn and Sean's date tore after it. Skank Barbie had the advantage with her long legs and orangutan arms. But knowing what she knew of any woman Sean dated, and Darcy had sure given her the complete rundown, Skank Barbie wasn't gonna let herself break a nail. And Quinn couldn't care less.

At the last minute, Quinn lunged for the bouquet, kicking her right leg out in a baseball-type slide. Her hip collided with Sean's date, sending her careening off to the side. Grabbing at the flowers, Quinn popped up and held the bouquet over her head in victory.

Laughing shrieks came from the group of shocked maidens as they looked at the dirt and grass stains on Quinn's knee. She looked down and was satisfied that her dress was not only intact but completely stain-free.

“You. Are. Crazy!” Darcy laughed, grabbing her around the waist and hugging her to her side.

“Anything for you, my love,” Quinn replied, handing her the bouquet.

“Oh, no, you won those fair and square.”

When Darcy tried to push the flowers away, Quinn insisted, “They're yours.”

“But they're good luck. You can't give away good luck.”

Quinn smiled at her friend, whom she'd grown so close to over the last year. She was smart, super-hardworking, completely business savvy, and not to mention beautiful. Looking over toward their table, she saw Ewan staring back at her with a seriously sexy grin on his face. It was the type of grin that said he was pretty sure he was going to get lucky later. And she was fairly certain he was right.

“I'm already lucky,” Quinn said to Darcy, pushing the flowers into her hands.

Her roommate smiled a dazzling smile that many people didn't usually get to see as she placed her nose to the petals.

As Quinn made her way back to her seat, the band struck up a slow song as Rory and Erin took their place in the middle of the dance area for their first dance. Twilight was settling, and a slight dampness hung in the air.

When she reached Ewan, she gave him a sheepish smile. He pulled her in front of him, so they both could face the bride and groom.

“Well done,” he whispered in her ear. His breath on her bare skin caused goose bumps to run down her arms.

“Did you even doubt that I would get that bouquet?” she teased him.

“Not for a second.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head, careful not to mess up the pins holding her hair in a classic French twist. They watched Erin and Rory dance. Her lovable cousin's gaze was lost in his wife's. After a few moments, other couples began to join them in the dance area.

“You wanna dance?”

Quinn's head shot around, and she stared at Ewan, her eyebrows rising in question.

“Have you been drinking?”

He smiled. “No.”

“But you don't dance.”

He moved around her, taking her hand as he led her toward the dance floor.

“I'm making an exception.”

Quinn's slack mouth formed a tentative grin, and when he pulled her into his arms, she found it hard to hide the giddiness dancing inside her. He lowered his head to rest beside hers, his slow, even breath fanning across her shoulder. He had one strong arm around her lower back while his other hand held hers against his chest.

“You do realize that everyone is staring at us.”

He shrugged lightly, clearly not interested in anyone other than her. They swayed slowly to the music. She could still smell the clean scent of his shampoo that lingered in his dark hair.

She heard a loud giggle and turned just in time to see Sean pull Darcy from her chair. He twirled her under his arm in an exaggerated Fred Astaire move. Darcy's cheeks were stained a pretty pink as he collected her against him to dance. And as they turned, Quinn could see that Sean looked happier than he had all night.

There was something in his gaze as he smiled down at her roommate. It wasn't just a teasing smile or a friendly grin. It was something more.

“Have I told you yet that you look stunning this evening?” Ewan whispered against her ear.

“Yes, you have.”

“I don't think I can say it enough.”

She smiled as she circled her arm around his neck.

“Have I told you how debonair you look in your suit?”

“Who says debonair?”

She squeezed his neck. “I do apparently.”

She felt him smile. “Yes, you mentioned debonair a few times already.”

She shouldn't have been surprised at how well he moved. She'd seen him fight after all, which was like a dance unto itself. She could feel his muscles shift in his shoulders and felt the brush of his thighs against her legs.

“I have something to tell you,” he whispered softly.

Her breath caught as she looked up into his beautiful dark blue eyes.

“Yeah?” she whispered. The people, the band, the tables and chairs, hell, the entire reception faded away, and all she could see was Ewan's impossibly beautiful face.

He cleared his throat. “I can't say for a fact that I'm an expert on this feeling stuff. But I'm fairly certain I've never felt more strongly about anyone than how I feel for you.”

Quinn waited for a few seconds, thinking there was more coming. When he just kept staring intently at her, she replied, “And?”

“And, yeah. That's what I wanted to say.”

Was he joking? As nice as what he'd told her was, she'd been expecting something a little different. Three little words that, when put together, could change everything.

“Oh, okay,” she said with a small smile. But when she realized how hard it must have been for him to say what he had, seeing that Ewan didn't express his feelings very freely, she let her smile widen. “And I'm the luckiest girl in the world because of it.”

His face softened. “Speaking of lucky, how about we get out of here?”

She laughed. “Sure, let's go.”

Just as she stepped back, he surprised her by pulling her back against him. He caressed the back of her neck and stopped their swaying, lightly rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

“And one more thing.” He pulled back to look down at her. “I love you.”

Her mouth fell open as a flutter sprang up from her belly, causing her entire body to tingle. His smile had faded away, and he was looking at her with an intensity she hadn't seen on his face in a long while. He'd known exactly what she'd been hoping to hear. And now that she'd heard it, she didn't know what to say.