Here’s a teaser:
The bride’s tone was sleepy and she weaved a bit on the path. Haven reached out to catch her elbow, and her foot slipped out of her sandal, twisting beneath her.
With a grunt of frustration and pain, she landed on her ass on the dusty path. Before she could catch her breath, Eric crouched before her, his hands on her ankle, which was beginning to throb.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his fingers smoothing over her skin.
Haven stopped herself from jerking away from that touch, so familiar that her hormones were dancing, appreciating the tingle his callused fingertips sent from the tender skin behind her ankle to the apex of her thighs. But to react strongly would only alert everyone to their previous relationship. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” She drew her knee up, breaking contact and breathing a sigh of relief. She looked past him to Christine, who bent over his shoulder, tucking her hair behind her ear and furrowing her brow. “Don’t worry. Nothing is going to stop me from walking down that aisle tomorrow.”
Christine lifted her gaze to Haven’s and smiled. “All that matters is that you’re okay.”
“I think so.” Eric took her ankle again, his thumb brushing over the hollow above her heel. He grinned at her, temporarily making her forget all about the pain, making her think—other things that she shouldn’t be thinking in front of her friends. She lowered her gaze, choosing the pain over the—well, the pain. “We’ll get you back and get some ice on it, you should be good as new.”
“Better be,” Mr. Padalecki said with a wink. “Dance lessons tonight.”
Eric grasped her arm and helped her stand. She tried to put her weight on her foot and winced. “You don’t want to aggravate it.” Eric looped his arm around her waist, his hand resting below her breast. His touch seared through the thin fabric of the T-shirt as if she wore nothing. “Lean on me.”
“No, really, I can—”
“Better this way.” He released her and turned his back. “Jared, give her a boost.”
Haven wished she could melt into the ground as everyone in their party watched. She stared at his broad back. “You aren’t going to carry me.”
“It’s only a little ways.”
“Uphill.” And she’d have to smell him and feel his muscles move and remember. “I can make it.”
He looked over his shoulder at her and must have seen her desperation for this all to go away, because he nodded. “You can lean on me if you want.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said again, but each step sent a twinge through her. So she held on to Jill.
“Dummy,” Jill muttered. “I would have ridden that all the way home.”
And in case you wanted to see my inspiration for Eric:
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