Page 77 of Don’t Look Back

Left over right? No, right over left. Which hole do I go through again? Fuck!

I yanked the offending fabric from around my neck and tossed it to the ground. Trying like hell not to run my hands through my hair, I dropped into the chair by the vanity mirror.

It was the biggest day of my life, and I was freaking out. I was supposed to walk down the aisle in fifteen minutes. If I couldn’t figure out something as simple as my tie, how in the hell could I be someone’s husband?

A soft knock sounded from the door, and I picked my head up from my hands. “Come in.”

Charlie poked her head in, face framed with tendrils of blonde curls. Kohl-rimmed eyes darted to the crumpled accessory on the floor. “What did that tie do to you?” she asked, shutting the door behind her. For the second time in our lives, she’d pulled out all the stops. The emerald gown she wore made her blonde hair and gray eyes pop. She took a step, her leg cutting through the slit in her dress.

“It was bullying me.”

She rolled her eyes and picked up the tie, setting it on my knee. “What’s really the problem, Genie?”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted.

“Do what? Get married? Because if you’re running, tell me now so I can take off these shoes.”

I looked down at her silver-heeled feet and faked a smile. “What if I’m not cut out for this?”

“Gene…” Charlie knelt in front of me, wobbling slightly. “It’s one day, and you and Ryan will be running off into the sunset to start your lives together. You have to be looking forward to having him in New York full time.”

That was a bonus. We’d been splitting our time between New York and Miami since I opened my restaurant. I offered to sell and move south, but Ryan absolutely refused.

“What if I screw it up?” I asked. My throat tightened and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I grabbed the tie, winding it around my fingers until the silk dug into my skin. “What if I can’t be a good husband? What if this isn’t meant to happen? He’s too good for me.”

“Okay,” Charlie sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

Before I could protest, Charlie pushed herself to her feet and left the room. I wound the tie tighter… tighter… and tighter until it hurt. Only then did I let go. Angry, red lines dug into my hands.

The next person that came through the door didn’t knock. He didn’t have to. I shot out of my seat, panicked.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” I asked. “Isn’t it bad luck to see you?”

But I couldn’t take my eyes off my very soon-to-be husband. The pale gray suit Ryan wore hugged him like a glove. His black curls were tamed, brushed away from his face. Brown eyes sparkled behind his glasses, trails of honey catching the sunlight. He squirmed under my gaze and tugged on his sleeves, which drew my attention down—to where his jacket perfectly cinched at the waist, as if my hands were made to be there. “Amor, if you keep staring at me like that, we’ll never make it down the aisle,” he laughed.

“Then tell everyone to go home.”

I stepped forward, and my hands found their rightful place. Every worry I’d had throughout the day vanished.

Damn it—Charlie’s a genius.

“What’s happening with this tie? Is he making fun of you?” he asked, his lips softly moving against mine as he spoke.

“I don’t wanna wear the tie,” I whined. I pressed our lips together, feeling him give back slightly before he broke away.

“If I have to wear the tie, you have to wear the tie.”

I tugged the ends of free of his jacket, winding them around my hand. “It looks better on you,” I told him. “I look like a car salesman.”

“You look…” Ryan stepped back and gave me a slow once-over. He let out a breath. “Genie, mi corazon, you look breathtaking.”

“We’re wearing the same thing,” I commented, nervously shoving my hands in my pockets.

“Yeah, but you wear it so much better.” Rolling that lip between his teeth, Ryan took a centering breath before his eyes opened to find mine. “Fuck,” he muttered, storming to the door, slamming it shut, and flipping the lock into place. “Get over here.”

“Wh-what?” I asked, but I was already moving. Ryan snatched my hand, pressing me against the wood. “We’re supposed to get married in ten minutes. What if our parents come looking for us?”

Ryan earnestly got to work on my belt and pulled my shirt free of my pants. “Then you’d better skip the part where you go over football plays in your head to make yourself hold out. We need to make this quick. Charlie’s guarding the door.”