Chapter Nineteen

Tessa

One of the male dancers heads to Skye, pulls her out of her chair, and leads her away from the table and onto the soft white sand.

Skye, who is normally shy around strangers and loves control, has apparently had one too many of her eponymous cocktails tonight. She gyrates along with the handsome man, sliding her hands over his broad shoulders and sculpted chest.

Several months ago, I might’ve been the first to take to the floor with one of these handsome men.

But I stay glued to my seat.

Kathy rises next, joining the men dancing.

She’s single right now, having recently ended a short relationship with Braden’s father. Bobby Black is a good-looking man, but too old for my tastes.

Seems like no man is quite to my tastes these days.

Except Ben Black.

I still can’t get over the way he makes me feel—safe and secure.

But it’s in my head.

He’s the best man, and I’m the maid of honor, and I’m sure Braden told him to look after me.

I mean, why else would he plan a bachelorette party? That’s certainly not the best man’s job. It’s not the job for any man.

Clearly… Because I told him no strippers. And these hot dudes dancing around?

Definitely strippers.

Although none of them have lost their trunks yet. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. The thought should bother me more than it does, which I suppose is a good thing.

Betsy and Daniela join the fun, and soon I’m sitting at the table alone.

I finish my champagne. Between that and the Skye cocktail I had earlier, I’m done drinking.

I won’t be dancing, either. I’m happy to be the odd one out.

Until Skye pulls the guy she’s dancing with over to me. “Tessa, come dance with us. This is Lucas.”

Lucas is the best-looking one of the bunch. Smooth dark skin, muscles that could rival the best Olympic athlete, and a bald head. Normally I don’t like it when men shave their heads, but it works on Lucas. He’s fucking amazing.

“Why do you do this?” I ask him. “You should be walking a runway somewhere.”

“Because I enjoy this, pretty lady.” He grabs my hand and pulls me into a standing position.

I instinctively pull my hand away.

“Just try to have some fun, Tess,” Skye says.

“Sure.” Deep breath. I’ll do anything for Skye.

I tentatively hold my hand out to Lucas again, and he takes it. He pulls me out onto the sand, and the man can move. I close my eyes, immersing myself in the reggae music. It’s no salsa, but I like reggae.

Skye dances with us. She won’t leave me alone unless I ask her to, and I certainly won’t be doing that.

I dance for several minutes, leaving my hand in Lucas’s.

His hand is warm and inviting, and after a few moments, I no longer fear his touch.

But his touch doesn’t do anything for me other than that. As good-looking as he is, I’m feeling no arousal at all.

When the music stops and the band takes a break, I pull my hand away from Lucas. “Thank you for the dance,” I say, and then I head back to the bar. I need some more water.

The night is warm, and the dancing made me sweat.

I feel a little exhilarated. Movement always does that. It helps when I’m feeling low. I shouldn’t be feeling low, though. I had an amazing time at Dunn’s River Falls, and then I had a great massage and mani-pedi.

I’m determined not to feel low. This is Skye’s weekend, and I will not bring it down.

I head to the bar for my water, and the Jamaican bartender has been replaced with—

A sliver of recognition ignites at the back of my neck…and it feels…odd. Odd and definitely not good.

I’ve seen this man before.

He has fair skin, a strong nose. And something…

It’s apprehension that’s curling up my spine. Apprehension…and fear.

I pay no attention to it. I’m used to feeling this way around strange men. A gift from Garrett. The gift that keeps on giving.

But I feel like there’s some memory lodged in the back of my head. Some memory that I can’t quite grasp.

Something involving this man.

I cock my head, regard him. His hair is sandy brown, his eyes nearly the same color. He’s pleasant looking, though not runway material like Lucas. Far from it, actually. Something about him is familiar…

But I can’t place him. And I’m done trying.

“Have we met?” he asks.

“No,” I say flatly.

I’m not in any mood to discuss the fact that he looks familiar. Not when the memory feels like it could be a bad one.

“What can I get you?”

“Sparkling water.”

“Coming right up.” He smiles at me.

And it’s the smile.

The smile.

It’s kind of snakelike, and I know I’ve seen it before.

Goose bumps erupt on my skin.

I take the drink he hands to me. “Thank you.”

And I know this will be the last drink—alcoholic or not—I order tonight as long as that bartender is here. I take a seat back at the table. Betsy, Kathy, and Daniela are still dancing with the strippers.

“Hey, Tess.” Skye sits down next to me.

“Are you having a good time?” I ask.

“The best. I honestly didn’t expect you to get strippers. Or…scantily clad guys, to be more specific.”

“Yeah, well…it’s your big sendoff.”

I’m not about to tell her I had nothing to do with it, that her future brother-in-law planned the whole thing. After I told him not to get strippers.

“They’re so hot. I could dance all night. You know I don’t drink a lot, and I’ve lost count. I love Braden, and he’s the only man for me, but…”

“God, you’re not considering—”

She widens her eyes. “Oh my God, no. Never in a million years. I would never do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Braden. But I sure can look.”

“Doesn’t hurt anything to look.”

Then I glance back at the bartender, my skin running cold again. “See that bartender?”

Skye glances over. “Yeah.”

“You know him?”

She squints, looking closer. “No. He’s kind of nondescript. Why? Do you know him?”

“There’s something familiar about him.” I frown. “Something…eerie almost.”

“Are you sure you’re not just flashing back to Garrett?”

“I don’t think so. That guy doesn’t look anything like Garrett.”

She lays her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry this all happened to you, Tess. I should’ve been there.”

“I’m glad you weren’t there. You’ve been through your own stuff. At least I wasn’t held at gunpoint.”

Skye sighs, looking down. “It took me several sessions with my therapist to come to terms with that. I’m still not sure I’m over it.”

When I think about Skye, how she must have seen her life pass before her eyes when a gun was pointed at her, I feel even weaker. Why is it taking me so long to get over something that wasn’t nearly as devastating?

I was drugged, yes. Date raped, yes. But it wasn’t like Garrett and I had never been together. It wasn’t like I wasn’t going to have sex with him anyway.

So why is this having such an effect on me?

My therapist says I shouldn’t compare trauma, but it’s hard not to. She also thinks there may be something in my past—before Garrett—that is contributing to mine, making it worse somehow. Something I’ve blocked out.

She may be right, but I’ve been going to therapy now for months, and we’re no closer to figuring out what it might have been.

I’m done thinking about it now. How many times do I have to remind myself this weekend is about Skye and not me?

I’ve never been so fucking self-absorbed before in my life.

“Earth to Tessa…”

I snap out of my thoughts.

“So about that bartender…” Skye continues.

“He just looks familiar to me.” A chill runs up my spine. “And frankly, Skye, he makes my skin crawl. There’s just something about him that’s not right. He doesn’t have a Jamaican accent, either, so he’s not from here. He sounded American.”

“So? Maybe he moved. He lives here now, and he works here.”

“But why?”

“Who wouldn’t want to live here and work here? This place is a paradise.”

She’s right, of course. I need to stop thinking about it.

But something about him… Something’s not right.

And it’s driving me slowly senseless.

Maybe I need to give my therapist a call. It’s too late now, but I can call her in the morning. She’s really good about that. Taking time to talk to me when I’m not in a session. Most of the time she doesn’t even charge me for it, which I appreciate.

I take a drink of my sparkling water.

Skye takes another long sip of her drink. “I just want to tell you again, Tess. This has just been wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome, Skye.”

Sometime, after the wedding’s over, I’ll level with Skye. I’ll tell her that Ben planned all of it. But I don’t want to ruin anything for her right now. And finding out her best friend was too into her own self-absorption to plan her bachelorette party would ruin her evening.

Some best friend I am.

I take another drink.

I’ve had about enough of this party, but I should stay until the end.

Skye excuses herself and goes back to dance with the men and the other ladies.

And I realize what I’ve been reduced to.

Tessa Logan used to be the life of the party.

Because as a child, raised by devout Catholic parents, she was never allowed to be the life of the party.

As soon as I got out on my own in college, I let my hair down and enjoyed life to the fullest.

Carpe diemwas my mantra.

But now?

I sit on the sidelines, looking in.

Knowing I don’t belong.

And wondering if maybe…I never did.