Charlotte was laughingly picking flower petals out of Molly’s hair. As Sarah watched, Fox shook his head, showering the floor with splashes of silky pink, cream, and deep yellow. Regardless of his action, his arm remained around Molly. The lead singer’s smile was huge, the kisses Molly kept dropping on his cheek adorable; it was clear she was aiming for the lean dimple in his left cheek.
“Congratulations, man,” Abe said, walking over to haul the lead singer into a hug that lifted him off his feet.
Grinning, Fox slapped Abe on the back before they broke apart to do that complicated handshake thing Sarah had never been able to master even after Abe tried to teach her one lazy Saturday morning, both of them laughing when she gave up and made up a random handshake of her own.
Pushing aside the melancholy that threatened to envelop her at the reminder of how young she’d been, how hopeful, Sarah bent to kiss Molly on the cheek, then gave her a heartfelt hug. “Congratulations. I am so happy for you.”
“Thank you!” Molly’s dark eyes were full of light.
Delighted for her, Sarah stepped back so Kit, too, could hug the bride. She ended up bumping straight into the hard wall of muscle that was her ex-husband. Who hooked an arm around her waist before she could move away. “You look edible,” he murmured, his breath brushing her sensitive earlobe.
Which Abe knew all about.
Sarah’s heart rate had never quite slowed down. Now it kicked again, the heat of his touch sinking through the fabric of her dress to soak into her skin. Turning on a wave of need, she said, “I like you in formal wear.” She couldn’t help herself; she reached over to fix his tie. It hadn’t been out of place—she just wanted an excuse to touch him even knowing it was a bad, bad idea.
Allowing her hand to lie on his chest for a second, she drew in a breath… and glimpsed Noah watching them, interest alive in the gray of the guitarist’s eyes. She flushed, dropped her hand, and turned to face the bride and groom once more.
“Let go of my waist,” she muttered to Abe at the same time.
“Make me,” said the man holding her prisoner.
Sarah knew she could move away, but she didn’t want to draw attention to the two of them. And her traitorous body didn’t want to break contact—having Abe messing with her was more fun than it should be.
Deciding to fight fire with fire, she shifted slightly, just enough to angle a look at him from under her lashes. It was a very specific look, one that had never failed to have a certain effect on Abe.
“Fuck.” It was a hard, barely audible sound.
Despite that staccato word, he didn’t release her. Instead, he stroked his hand down to her hip and began to move his thumb back and forth, back and forth over a particular spot. Their position at the end of the semicircle of friends meant no one could see what he was doing.
“Abe.” Her voice came out strangled.
Leaning close as if to ensure he heard what she was saying, Abe said, “You started it.” His breath was hot, his chest hard where it touched her shoulder.
He moved his thumb again. “And it is a wedding,” he murmured. “Aren’t bridesmaids supposed to hook up with the groomsmen?”
“I’m not a bridesmaid,” Sarah managed to get out, her self-control not totally in tatters.
“Close enough.”
“A toast to Foxy!” Noah held up a glass of champagne.
Threatening to punch the guitarist, Fox grinned nonetheless and dipped his head to kiss Molly, soft and sweet and with so much love that Sarah’s vision blurred.
“Hey.” Abe’s stroking turned into a comforting rub. “No crying.”
“It’s a wedding,” she sniffed, using a finger to wipe away the tears that had escaped. The other women were doing the same.
Feeling a deluge coming, she was about to dig in her clutch for a tissue when Abe handed her a pristine white handkerchief. “It was part of the getup,” he said, pointing at the pocket of his suit.
“Thanks.” Sarah dabbed at her eyes.
The Riveras arrived then, David’s two brothers included; more hugs and kisses were exchanged. Alicia and Vicente beamed as proudly as if it was their own child’s wedding.
Vicente’s hug of Fox was powerful, paternal. His words, however, were a growl. “You take care of my girl, Fox, or like a son or not, I’ll be over here with a baseball bat.”
“You’ll never need to do that, sir,” Fox promised.
The naked emotion in the lead singer’s eyes when he looked at his bride had Sarah’s eyes filling with tears once again.
“You always did cry at all the romantic parts in those movies you used to make me watch.” Abe’s rumbling voice against her ear, his body warm and supportive behind her… and the memories making her ache.