Malcolm laughed. “One of the cons to living in Cole’s Hill is that it’s hard to avoid past girlfriends.”
“True.”
“Helena already warned me I’d have to keep you in line. No fighting,” Malcolm said. “Not with Hadley or Jackson or heck, even me.”
“I’m not doing that anymore,” he said. “That was just a bad spell.”
“Glad to hear,” Malcolm said. “Behind all their Southern charm, the Everton ladies aren’t happy with you at all.”
He didn’t blame them. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Mal, come on,” Helena said. “Daddy wants to get the pictures taken so he can take off his tie.”
“Coming.”
Mauricio followed the engaged couple into a sitting room. There was a large picture window with a spectacular view of the hills behind the house, which were covered with bluebonnets in full bloom. Crissanne Moss, one of the newer residents of Cole’s Hill, was acting as photographer today. She was engaged to Ethan Caruthers, who was related to Mauricio through marriage.
“I’m going to do a shot of the ladies first, then all of you guys and then a big group photo.”
There was some grumbling especially from the men as they stood with their backs against the wall. The last time they were all together waiting like this was in high school when they’d gotten their yearbook photos taken.
He shook his head at the thought.
“I hate photos,” Malcolm said. “I always look either like a creepy toothpaste ad or like I’m getting ready to be tortured.”
“Just relax,” Mauricio said. “Maybe look at Helena. You don’t look creepy when you smile at her.”
“Glad to hear it,” Malcolm said sardonically.
“No problem, man.”
“Guys, come on over,” Crissanne said.
Mauricio walked past the bridesmaids and Hadley’s floral perfume scent filled the air. He couldn’t help taking a deep breath as he moved into the position that Crissanne directed him to. When she had everyone posed, she explained that they had to do a serious photo and a silly one. Mauricio realized that if he never had to be in another photo again, he’d be happy.
“Now let’s mix it up,” Crissanne said.
There was some jostling around Helena and Malcolm, who were in the center of the group. Crissanne kept moving the men and women to get a good balance of something that only she could see with her photographer’s eye.
Mauricio stood toward the back; being six foot five, he was pretty much always in the back of any group shot. When Crissanne repositioned two of the bridesmaids, it put Hadley right in front of him.
He stood a little taller and held himself back from her.
“Okay, guys, I need you to put your hand on the shoulder of the woman in front of you,” Crissanne said.
He put his hand on Hadley’s shoulder. As soon as he did, a tingle went through him. He noticed goose bumps on her left arm, and she shifted under his touch. Her breath become shallower and a slight flush spread down her neck. He felt a zing of awareness go through him, and he did his best to ignore it until Hadley glanced back over her shoulder at him and their eyes met.
They both might have decided to move on, that they weren’t ever getting back together, but there was an undeniable sexual energy between them now; it hadn’t been extinguished. He knew better than to think that this would lead to anything more than the most exquisite sort of torture, but he couldn’t help rubbing his finger over the small bit of flesh exposed by the thick strap of her dress. Her skin was softer than he remembered, and she shivered delicately under his touch.
Crissanne brought their attention back to her and snapped the photos. “Okay, you’re all free to go.”
Hadley bolted from under his touch and all he could do was watch her go.
One touch and she was back where she’d been all those months ago. She glanced around the busy party. Jackson caught her eye and nodded toward the door leading to the parking lot. She made her way through the crowd, careful to avoid all the women who had well-intentioned advice for her, and finally stepped outside and took a deep breath. She hoped that it was just being inside in close quarters with Mo that had made her react the way she had. But the truth was, her skin still tingled from where his fingertips had been. The back of her neck was still sensitive where his breath had brushed over it.
“Hey, there. You look like the party was getting to be too much for you,” Jackson said, coming up and putting his hand under her elbow.
His touch was nice. But it didn’t cause a chain reaction in her body the way that one small brush of Mauricio’s fingers had. That was the problem.
She looked at Jackson. He’d always been a good friend to her, starting back in high school when they’d both been in the International Baccalaureate program and study groups together. He’d been skinny and small and worn those glasses that were too big for his face. Of course, he’d changed. Matured into the kind of man she would have said was her type if not for that damned Mauricio messing with her body.
She wondered if she should just go home with Jackson and sleep with him. Maybe the fact that Mauricio had been her only lover was the reason why she still reacted to his touch. She toyed with the idea of sleeping with Jackson only until their eyes met. He was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to be dragged into her mess with Mo.
“When you look at me like that I know this doesn’t mean anything to you,” he said.
The sun was shining brightly, and it was the kind of late summer afternoon where the heat was so oppressive that being outside was a chore. She was just thinking that when she glanced past Jackson’s shoulder and saw Mo standing there on the patio outside the country club.
She shook her head. It was over between them, had been for longer than either of them wanted to admit.
“It could,” she whispered to Jackson, not sure if she was talking to herself or him. “It’s just...”
“I’m not Mauricio,” he said with his usual bluntness. “I never will be. And I’m not about to apologize for that.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to, and I don’t think you want to be Mauricio,” she said. “I like you, Jackson.”
He laced their fingers together and pulled her toward the willow tree that had been planted decades ago and now had large branches that cascaded down to the ground. He held the willow branches to the side as they stepped underneath them into the relative coolness of the shade provided by the tree. She could hear the melodic sound of the fountain in the nearby water feature.
He let her hand drop and then shook his head. “I like you too, Had, but not enough to play second fiddle to a Velasquez or any other man. There was a time when I might have considered it—”
“No, there wasn’t. You’ve always been such a strong, confident guy. That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
“But you’ve admired me as a friend, right?”
“Yes. But I thought that’s what you wanted from me,” she said.
“It is. I mean it would be a major cosmic F you to Mauricio if you and I had clicked and ended up married,” Jackson said. “But I wouldn’t do anything to mess with our friendship.”
“Me neither,” she said, putting her hands on the sides of his face. He had a strong jaw with only a hint of five o’clock