Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,61

guests laughed, and Cole’s face relaxed into a smile. “I couldn’t be happier for Griffin and Blair, and I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect person for my friend. It’s rare when someone is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside”—he glanced down at me before looking over at the bride—“but anyone who knows Blair will tell you she’s living proof it can happen.”

I smiled at Blair too.

“And even though Griffin was his usual stubborn self at first, even he realized that . . .” Cole paused for a second. “That when you have something precious in your hands, you need to hold on tight.”

Chills swept across my back. I knew I’d heard the words somewhere, but at first I couldn’t remember when. Then it came to me—my mother had said them to us, the night we shattered the wedding plate.

Cole lifted his champagne. “So let’s raise a glass to Griffin and Blair, in celebration of their commitment to each other, this incredible evening, and holding on tight. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The word echoed throughout the crowd, followed by the clinking of glasses all over the room. I swallowed some champagne, smiling through tears as the bubbles tickled my throat.

April came and took the mic from Cole, who sat down and wiped his forehead. “God, I’m glad that’s over.”

“You were great!” Moretti said. “Fucking fantastic.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t have that written down,” Mack commented. “I’d have forgotten everything.”

“I forgot a lot of it,” Cole admitted, stealing another glance at me. “And I started to panic. But something came to me at the end.”

“It was perfect,” I said softly, the lump refusing to leave my throat.

“Thanks.” He spoke quietly then, only to me. “Think your mom will mind I quoted her?”

I had to laugh as I shook my head. “She might never let you forget it, but she’ll be happy someone was listening.”

“Cole Mitchell, you made me cry!” Blair exclaimed, getting out of her chair to come hug him. “How dare you!”

Griffin came over to shake his hand and give him a back-thumping embrace too, and by the time everyone was settled again, servers were placing dinner on the table. Cole reached for his napkin and spread it on his lap.

That’s when I realized he wasn’t wearing his ring.

I tried not to make too much of it, but it was difficult not to keep stealing glances at his hands throughout the meal. My appetite was almost nonexistent, even though the food was delicious. The wine was good too, but I was careful not to drink too much. I did not want a repeat of last night, and any time I got tipsy, I tended to shed my inhibitions where Cole was concerned.

I stayed quiet, if not silent, during the first three courses, and Cole didn’t say much either. At one point, he got up to go check on Mariah, and Blair leaned over and whispered to me, “Everything okay? You guys both seem kind of down.”

I forced a smile. “All good. Just enjoying dinner.”

She glanced at my beef tenderloin and roasted potatoes. “What dinner? That one right there? The one that’s still on your plate?”

Pressing my lips together, I reached for my water. “This dress is tight. I don’t want to overeat.”

“Cheyenne, you—”

“Shh,” I admonished. “He’s coming back.”

“Bathroom break before cake?”

I nodded. “Fine.”

Once our entrées were cleared, half of mine left uneaten, Blair and I grabbed our small clutches from beneath our chairs and headed for the ladies’ room. I helped her use the bathroom—the ball gown style she’d chosen meant she needed some assistance—and freshened up as we waited a few minutes for the lounge to clear. When it was just the two of us, she turned to me, her expression worried.

“Talk to me. Are you really okay?”

I smiled and lied. “I’m really okay.”

“Because the wedding party dance is coming up, and if you—”

“Blair.” I held up my palms. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”

The tension in her face eased. “Okay. Because we can always switch things up. Frannie can dance with Cole, and you can dance with Moretti.”

“No need to change anything.” I swallowed hard. “I’m used to this, remember? He was never mine, and he’s never going to be mine, and dancing with someone else doesn’t make that less true.”

“But it might make it less painful,” she said softly.

I shook my head, willing the sob in my chest to stay there. “Don’t worry about me.”

Two friends of my mother’s entered the bathroom and immediately accosted