Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

ZAYN

D inner and speeches had gone on long enough to suck the energy out of the room. I leaned back in my chair, scanning the sea of blank, tired faces around the area. The empty dance floor stood like a glaring testament to the buzz kill this evening had turned into. We were supposed to be celebrating, yet the vibe was anything but celebratory.

Courtney had taken the mic and was in the middle of what felt like her fifteenth minute of pouring her heart out to Elaine, who, God bless her, looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here. A bride should never look like that on her wedding day—numb, tired, and desperate for an escape route. I didn't know Courtney, but I knew an attention whore when I saw one. She wanted the spotlight on her—literally. She had it and she wasn't going to let it go. She was making it known she had known the bride forever and they were the best of friends, and she had planned this and advised that .

No one gave two shits.

It was time to step in and save the night.

I wasn't a stranger to being the life of the party, and if anyone needed to take one for the team, it might as well be me. I knew Carlos would thank me later. I had noticed the looks he was shooting my way.

I glanced over at Marigold, seated just a few chairs away. She was doing her best to stifle her amusement at the never-ending speech, her cheeks flushed from the effort. Courtney had been a bitch to Marigold all night. And now, Courtney was making an absolute ass of herself, except she wasn't the one paying for it.

All of us were paying the price for her narcissism.

A plan began to form in my head.

With a deep breath, I pushed my chair back, stood up, and made my way toward the mic. Courtney was still talking—something about how Elaine was like the sister she never had, but I couldn't quite be sure. Her voice was like twenty screeching cats all vying for the last word. The words had started to blur together in a never-ending stream of sentimentality.

I gently placed a hand on Courtney's shoulder as I approached. "Hey, Court," I said, my voice loud enough to interrupt her. "I think you've said it all." I grinned and reached for the mic.

Courtney didn't let go immediately. She held on to the mic for a second longer than necessary, a slight frown creasing her forehead. It was as if her hand had fused to the microphone. But I wasn't going to back down. I pried the mic from her hand, then turned to the crowd with a mischievous smile.

"You're welcome," I announced.

Laughter rippled through the room, mostly at Courtney's expense, but it was good-natured. Courtney's shoulders slumped as she returned to her seat beside Marigold, who was now struggling to hold in her laughter, her face beet red. I wasn't trying to be mean, but someone had to save us all from death by a thousand words. Courtney had been rambling for far too long with no end—and no punchline—in sight.

I cleared my throat and kept it short and sweet. "I've known Carlos a long time," I began, my eyes finding the groom in the crowd, who gave me a grateful nod. "And I'm grateful to have had the chance to meet Elaine tonight. I think it's about time we give these two the party they deserve. And let's do all of us a favor, leave the speaking to the DJ and the emcee, ‘kay?"

There was laughter and applause. Courtney's eyes flashed with anger, but I didn't care.

I handed the mic over to the emcee, who looked relieved to finally get the show back on track. The DJ started up the music, and soon the lights dimmed as Carlos and Elaine took to the dance floor for their first dance as newlyweds. There were a few appreciative murmurs from the crowd as the couple swayed together, the soft music wrapping them in a moment that felt like it should have been happening an hour ago.

Next up was Elaine's dance with her father, a tender moment that had a few people dabbing at their eyes. I, however, had my eyes on someone else.

Marigold.

I wasn't even sure when it had happened, but the second I saw her sitting there, lost in thought and perhaps a bit overwhelmed by everything around her, I knew she was the one I wanted to be with. Without a second thought, I made my way over to her and extended a hand.

"Let's dance," I said.

She hesitated for just a moment before placing her hand in mine. I led her onto the dance floor just as the music shifted to something slower, more romantic. The lights dimmed further, creating an intimate atmosphere. The other guests began to join us, but my focus was solely on Marigold.

As we started to move to the rhythm, I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly she glided across the floor with me. For someone who claimed to be out of her element, she seemed perfectly at home here.

"You handled that well," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I had to do something," I replied, my voice low as I leaned in slightly. "Couldn't let the whole night be a drag, could I? My ears were on the verge of exploding. My brain was turned to mush by all that drivel."

"I don't think Courtney will ever forgive you for that," she teased.

"Eh, she'll get over it. Someone had to pull the plug."

Marigold laughed, and it was like a pretty bell ringing out over the dull chatter of the other guests. I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. It wasn't just about salvaging the party anymore—it was about seeing her happy, seeing her smile.

"Speaking of Courtney," I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "I'm surprised you haven't spilled red wine all over her dress yet."

She gave me a mock offended look. "I would never."

"I would," I shot back with a smirk.

"Don't you dare," she warned, though her eyes were dancing with amusement.

"Whatever my fiancée wants, she gets," I said, with just enough emphasis on the word "fiancée" to remind her of our little arrangement. I was all for enjoying this unique situation between us.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Thank you again, by the way. For lying for me."

"It's not a lie if you believe it," I replied, pulling her a little closer. "And you're welcome."

Marigold's smile softened, and for a moment, the playful banter faded, replaced by something more sincere. "You know," she began, her voice quieter now. "I've known most of these people since I was a kid. They've all gone on to achieve these amazing things—careers, families, everything. And I always feel like I have to prove myself when I'm around them. Like I'm the one who hasn't figured it out yet."

I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Beneath her easy smile and playful demeanor, there was a lot more going on. And I could certainly relate to feeling like she had to compete. I came from a big family of successful alpha males. Competition was part of the game. "Is that why you asked me to play along?" I asked gently.

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the space between us. "It's easier not being alone through all this," she admitted. "Having you here, even if it's just for show, makes it infinitely more bearable. I don't feel like everyone is pitying me."

I didn't know what to say at first. I wasn't exactly known for my sensitivity, but something about the vulnerability in her voice made me want to protect her from whatever insecurities had been eating away at her. I dipped her low, taking a moment to admire the way her dress clung to her curves. Her ample chest rose and fell with each breath, hypnotizing me.

Before I could stop myself, I pressed a kiss to the swell of her chest, right where the fabric of her dress dipped to reveal just a hint of skin. Marigold gasped softly. I pulled her back up, her eyes wide with surprise and something else—something that made my blood run hot.

"I'm a salesman," I told her, my voice huskier than I intended. "Let me sell it. Fuck what they think."

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, a grin tugging at her lips. "Fuck what they think?" she repeated, as if testing the words on her tongue. "Are you willing to sell the lie even more?"

"Like I said," I replied, holding her gaze. "Whatever you want, you get. Just name it." I paused. "Except karaoke. I'm not shy but my singing voice is like a rusty hinge." I flashed her a grin. "But anything else is fair game."

She looked at me for a long moment, as if weighing her options. Then she rose on her toes to close the distance between us. The kiss she gave me was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened. I responded in kind, sliding a hand up her back to pull her closer.

The noise of the reception, the other dancers—all of it became background noise. There was only Marigold, her soft lips against mine, her body warm and pliant in my arms.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. I could see the same heat in her eyes that I felt burning through me. Her lips were slightly parted and her pupils were large. I loved that I could have such an effect on her.

"Zayn," she started, but whatever she was going to say trailed off as the music shifted again, this time to something a bit faster, more upbeat. The moment between us dissolved, and the spell was broken.

I forced myself to take a step back, giving her room to breathe even though every instinct told me to keep her close. "You okay?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She nodded, though there was a faint blush creeping up her neck. "Yeah," she replied, her voice a little breathless. "Just… wasn't expecting that."

I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm full of surprises."

Marigold smiled, a bit more composed now. "Clearly."

As the tempo picked up, more guests began to fill the dance floor. I could see Carlos and Elaine rejoining the party, laughing and mingling with their friends and family. The atmosphere had shifted, the energy in the room revitalized. My little interruption had done the trick.

Whatever came next, I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

"You're good at this, you know," she said. "Saying just the right thing."

"I'm a salesman, remember? It's kind of my job."

Marigold tilted her head, considering me for a moment. "Maybe. But I think you're more than that, too."

I arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the seriousness in her tone. "Oh yeah? What else am I?"

She took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving mine. "I think you're someone who likes to keep people guessing. Someone who enjoys being the center of attention but doesn't always want to be seen."

I blinked, a little taken aback by how accurately she'd summed me up. "You've got me all figured out, huh?"

"Not yet," she said, her voice soft but steady. "But I'm getting there."

"Surprise." My voice was barely a whisper as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another kiss that made it very clear what I wanted. I didn't care who saw.