subtly sexy. And all that smooth skin… wow.
I clear my throat. “You look nice. Is that a new dress?”
“Yes.” She looks down and smooths a hand over one hip in a gesture that has my groin tightening. “This is what Felise and Magan helped me pick out the other night. It’s really bright.”
“You look like a flame.”
Her eyelashes flutter. Now I notice how she’s emphasized them with mascara and how her eyes are shadowed and shaded, making them look huge. Her lips gleam with a coral shimmer. “Thank you?”
Why did I say that? “Yeah, I meant it as a compliment,” I reply gruffly.
She slips her arms into the cardigan. “Okay, let’s be off!”
The Uber is waiting for us. The driver gets onto Highway 41, and it’s a straight fifteen-minute drive to the Drake Hotel. The atmosphere in the car is stiff and uncomfortable. I ask Romy questions about her homework to distract myself from how fucking hot she looks. She studies hard and knows all the theory. She’s definitely smart. She’s just impatient and a little irreverent, like she still doesn’t take this all seriously.
At the hotel, I lead Romy into the lobby through brass revolving doors. It’s opulent and grand in here, with potted palms, heavy drapery, and crystal chandeliers dripping from the high ceiling. People mill about, and I spot Joe and Cassie talking to Chuck and Stella near the stairs. I direct Romy over to them, and we all greet each other.
“You look lovely, Romy!” Cassie says, holding her hands. “This dress is perfect!”
“Thank you.”
“We should go up to the ballroom,” Joe says. “The ceremony is supposed to start in about five minutes.”
We climb the carpeted steps and move into the room where the wedding is being held. Chairs set up in rows flank a white carpet running down the center aisle. The lighting is dim, with lots of candles, late afternoon sunshine filtering in through sheer curtains. We find seats near the front where some other Candler family members are already seated—Felise and Cam, Magan and Dallas, some of the cousins. Music drifts around us.
Felise twists on her chair, beams and claps her hands as Romy takes a seat behind her. “You look gorgeous!” She shifts her gaze to me. “You too, Trace. Nice suit.”
“Thanks.”
Soon Peta and Tony, Wendell’s parents, arrive. They’re seated at the front, then Dean’s parents across the aisle. Jay, Wendell’s brother, and Dean’s friend James walk down the aisle and take their positions at each side of the officiant, and the music changes to Teagan and Sara singing “I Was Married.”
“Please rise,” the officiant intones.
We stand and turn to watch Wendell and Dean make their way down the aisle arm in arm, both beaming. Wendell’s wearing a black tuxedo, Dean a white dinner jacket with black pants.
I glance at Romy, and her smile is tender and warm as she watches the happy couple.
The ceremony is short but heartfelt, the two men reading their own vows, then they make a joyful exit to “Best Day of My Life” by American Authors. Slowly we all follow them out of the ballroom to where a bar has been set up. Waiters mingle with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and the family congregates in a corner except for Cassie, who is slowly making her way toward us but stopping to chat with pretty much everyone.
I hand Romy a glass of bubbly, and she flashes a smile. “Thanks.”
Felise introduces Romy to Cam. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s a good guy.
“Is everyone here a witch?” Romy whispers to me, on her tiptoes.
I shake my head, glancing around. “No.”
“So no weird magic stuff, huh?”
“You never know. We do have our ways of hiding it.”
She nods. “Yes, I remember that lesson.” She pauses. “Thank you for not telling everyone about my botched spells last weekend.”
“I thought you’d be mad at me for teasing you about them.”
“I was.”
I smile. I’m in a much better mood this weekend.
“But I was relieved you didn’t tell everyone.” She sighs. “Thank you for not letting them know what an idiot I am.”
“You’re not an idiot. And it was funny. After the fact.”
“I suppose.” Her eyes dance with mirth. “Thankfully none of the fish died.”
“Catastrophe averted.” I tip my glass to her. “Tomorrow we’ll work on some other things.”
“Okay.” She sips her champagne and peers up at me through thick eyelashes. That does something to my dick. Jesus. “Bigger fish?”
“Right.” I shake my head, smiling. “Much bigger.”
“Bigger is better.”
Oh hell. “Oh yeah?”
“So