Page 56 of The Wedding Fake
“Everyone look here in three, two…”
I smiled prettily for the camera, then let my eyes settle on Hud once more. He was special. We might not have something long term, but Hudson was an amazing guy. It was almost a shame we’d done this fake date, because he would’ve made a great friend, and I hadn’t made many—any—friends since moving down to the city. We couldn’t be friends now. My heart was too tied up in Hudson already. That organ didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation. But that was okay, because my brain did, and I would ignore my heart and walk away from Hud tomorrow. Maybe I’d have to give my battered little heart some TLC, but I’d be fine.
“Three, two…” the photographer said for the millionth time, and for the millionth time I looked into the camera and smiled, then found Hudson once more. This time he was reading his paperback, and as I moved out of the way so the groomsmen photos could begin, my brain flooded with a thousand unwanted thoughts. What if I kept him? What if he was there every night when I got home? Well, the nights he was off—he’d obviously still need to work. I chewed my lip, watching him read. What if Hudson North was the man I could spend forever with?
“Alright, all done,” the photographer declared, and the wedding party was herded away so they could be introduced. Noticing our movement, Hudson stood up straight, slipping his book into his coat pocket and taking long strides to catch up with the group.
When he got close he hung back, and I got the sense that, although he knew he couldn’t be with the wedding party, he wanted to keep an eye on me. Somewhere in my brain, the independent, feminist version of Claire scowled, her nose curling, but that version of me was overshadowed by the bigger, noisier part of my brain that let out little hums of pleasure at Hudson’s concern. Honestly, even the most independent parts of my brain had no interest in being left alone with Jock.
The wedding party lined up just outside of the wide yard where the reception was to take place, waiting to be introduced, and I gestured for Hudson to come closer. He crossed the distance to me and I straightened his tie—which wasn’t crooked—smoothing my hand down his chest, appreciating the excuse to touch him. He looked absolutely divine in a tailored gray suit that clung deliciously to his strong thighs and wide shoulders, his hair just the tiniest bit tousled. “You can sit, and I’ll find you after the introduction, okay?” I suggested. “Do you know which table you’re at?”
Hudson flashed a little paper tent at me, showing he’d already retrieved his table assignment. “Seven.”
I glanced out at the sea of tables, but I couldn’t easily see seven to figure out who Hudson would be sitting with. Hopefully no one too terrible. “I’ll find you as soon as I can,” I assured him. His eyes were hot and liquid, and I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him, right then, but music burst into my thoughts and Hudson straightened, as if pulled from his own fantasies.
“It’s time to introduce our wedding party!” The DJ declared loudly.
Hudson grinned, then nodded behind him. “I’ll be at table seven. Don’t rush.” He began to walk away, but turned back. “But don’t be too long, either,” he added with a wink.
I couldn’t help the smile on my face, even as Jock leaned closer to whisper, “They say we can do whatever dance we want as we walk out. I’m going to breakdance.”
I shook my head, the smile fading from my lips, which now pursed irritably. “We’re supposed to do something together. I can’t breakdance. ”
“Just stand and look impressed,” he suggested seriously.
“Introducing, Best Man Grant Dupree, and Maid of Honor Tessa Davis!” the DJ exclaimed, and Tess and Grant whirled out together, doing something akin to swing dancing that impressed the hell out of me and everyone else. Couldn’t everyone just do a silly little boogie? Did they all have to be great dancers?
“We could hook arms and strut—like The Strut from Soul Train?”
Jock looked at me densely, and while I knew my reference was from before either of us were born, I felt like it was a cultural reference he should’ve been aware of.
“Like this,” I demanded, looping my arm through his tightly as the DJ began to talk. “Groomsman Jock Jurkowski and bridesmaid Claire Davis!”
Jock strutted with me agreeably, although he tried some fancier footwork than I could do. I tried to copy his moves, but ended up laughing and watching him, just as he’d suggested. I looked up to find Hudson, who was sure to be smiling, but my quick scan stopped. Directly in front of me was Dan, my cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-boyfriend. I faltered, stopping in my tracks, and Jock took this pause as an invitation to drop and begin breakdancing.
For a second I remained frozen, staring at Dan, and then I got my wits about me and spun around to watch Jock’s last few moves.
I cheered for Jock, just to have something to do with my hands and face, then hurried off the dance floor as quickly as I could, veering past the head table and continuing until the wedding was behind me. I was breathing heavy, right on the verge of hyperventilation.
“Claire?”
I heard the worry that laced Hudson’s voice, but I didn’t turn, instead leaning forward and putting my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
“Claire,” he repeated urgently, looping in front of me, bending to see my face. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head as if I could ward away the vision of Dan in the front row, looking handsome and smug, and Hudson cupped my elbow, drawing me to standing and looking back and forth between my eyes.
“Look at me,” he commanded. “Do you remember? You keep your mouth closed and breathe only through your nose, okay, babe?” Cupping my chin in one palm, he closed one nostril with the index finger of his other hand. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I was okay. “Claire!” a voice hissed from behind me, and I recognized Emily’s voice immediately. Em rushed up, wrapping an arm around my waist, seeming liable to pull me away from Hudson.
“I’m okay,” I whispered on a hard exhale.
“Keep breathing through your nose,” Hudson said calmly, shifting his touch from my nose to my mouth, his thumb now keeping me quiet and focused on my breath.
“You saw him,” Emily said, not needing confirmation.
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