The soft strains of the orchestra had filled the area for the last hour, but now the music had begun in earnest, a traditional march that propelled me and Sloane down the aisle to our designated spots opposite Tyler and Cole.

I’d barely had time to glance sideways at Cole when the music changed yet again, this time into the wedding march. Immediately, guests stood and turned, looking back to where Angie had appeared in her stunning, hand-beaded wedding gown with the eight-foot train.

She seemed to glide down the aisle on her father’s arm, and there was no sound except for the processional. Even the insects in the gardens seemed to have hushed in deference to this woman who looked so radiant that she seemed lit from within.

I watched, blinking back tears as her father gave her away to Evan, who looked ridiculously happy. As the minister began to perform the ceremony, I stood next to Sloane, my bouquet tight in my hand, and looked out over the sea of faces. Some were friends, but most were strangers, and I was reminded that even though Angie had fast become a focal point of my life, we both had years behind us that the other knew nothing about. Weirdly, the thought comforted me. There was so much still to learn about my friends. About Cole. Hell, even about myself.

I glanced sideways to where Cole stood next to Tyler and Evan and found that he was looking at me, too. I was already weepy just from the fact that this was a wedding, but I saw so much tenderness in his face that I had to look away, afraid that the open emotion I saw in him would cause my tears to spill in earnest.

I concentrated instead on Evan—on the expression on his face that managed to encompass love and joy and passion and every other uplifting emotion.

I wanted that, too, I realized. I wanted to be in Angie’s shoes, walking down the aisle to the man I loved.

I wanted to see Cole looking at me that way.

Weddings. I stifled a sigh and forced my thoughts back to the bride. On keeping my smile in place. On trying to remember what Angie’s mom had asked me to do after the ceremony to help the staff set up for the reception.

I filled my head with so many thoughts that the actual wedding went by in a hazy, romantic blur that didn’t come into focus until I heard the familiar “you may kiss the bride” and saw Evan pull Angie greedily toward him.

After that, it was a flurry of music, another march down the aisle, then congratulations and pictures and hugging and kissing.

At one point Tyler grabbed a microphone and—after the squeal of feedback—he asked for everyone’s attention. He started off congratulating Angie and Evan, talking about how they were always meant to be together, and generally delighting the crowd.

“But enough about them,” he said. “I have an announcement to make, and it seems to me that a wedding is the perfect venue.” Beside him, Sloane was turning a little bit pink, which I found both baffling and amusing since she very rarely blushes.

“Earlier today, I asked Sloane to be my wife and she did me the honor of saying yes. Thank you,” he added in response to the burst of applause. “But I have to add that Evan is no longer the luckiest man here today. He has to share that title with me.”

“Why not?” someone called from the crowd. “You guys share everything. For that matter, where’s Cole?” At which point all eyes turned to find me—not Cole—and I felt my cheeks turning even more red than Sloane’s.

Fortunately that’s when the staff called everyone back into the pavilion, which now overflowed with food and wine and wonderful music from a band playing softly in the far corner.

I hung back a bit, trying to find Cole, who’d gotten sucked away into the crowd when we’d all been herded outside. I couldn’t find him, so I re-entered the pavilion, hoping to see him there. I didn’t—not at first—but I did see Sloane. She was on the dance floor in Tyler’s arms, and her face was alight, as if candles warmed her from within. She caught my eye, and her smile grew even broader. She lifted her hand, pointed toward the ring, and mouthed diamond district, then laughed like a child as her newly minted fiancé twirled her into his arms and kissed her hard in the middle of the dance floor.

And then the other dancers parted, and there he was. Cole. He was watching them as well, his expression both wistful and happy. He must have felt the weight of my gaze, because after a moment, he turned and his eyes immediately found mine. For a moment, there was no one else in the world but us. Then he smiled, and the spell was broken, but that was okay. I could handle the rest of the world just fine, because I had this man.

He ignored the dancers and cut across the dance floor, taking the shortest route to my side. “Someday,” he said. He took my hand and gazed at me with such longing it made me tremble. “Someday you will make a beautiful bride.”

My heart skipped a beat or two, but before I could think about his words—before I could process them, or even allow myself to wonder if he truly meant what I hoped he meant—he’d swept me onto the dance floor as well, and we were lost in the music and the crowd and the gaiety of the moment.

Happy. Such a simple word, but it packed so much punch. That was how I felt with Cole.

There were so many other emotions as well, of course. Desire, lust, need, discovery, hunger, tenderness. And on and on.

But at the core, he made me happy, and the thought was so huge, so powerful, that it propelled me through the rest of the evening.

I was still grinning foolishly hours later, after the cake had been eaten and the stretch limo had whisked Evan and Angie away to begin their fantasy honeymoon. I was standing there, hugging myself near the champagne fountain when Damien and Nikki came up to say goodbye.

“I wish we could stay longer,” Nikki said. “We’d love to spend more time with you and Cole, and I’ve barely seen any of Chicago. But maybe some other time.”

“We’d love it,” I said sincerely.

Damien gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I noticed the looks of awe and jealousy from some of the other female guests who’d been surreptitiously taking photos with their phones all evening. “You better be careful,” I said wryly, “or that’s going to end up on Facebook.”

“If there’s gossip, it must be Tuesday,” Nikki said, then tilted her head to indicate Damien. “He got used to it long ago. I’m finally getting to the point where it doesn’t feel like I live in a fishbowl. Or, more accurately, I’m starting to feel like a fish who can ignore everything outside the bowl.”

I laughed, but I couldn’t help but think that I had it lucky with Cole. Yes, he made the Chicago papers frequently, and yes, I’d undoubtedly be included in those pictures from now on, but his celebrity was limited to Chicago. Nikki and Damien were recognized all over the world, and god forbid they were caught up in any sort of scandal because then there was nowhere to hide.

Frankly, I liked my side of the coin better.

“Have you seen Cole?” Damien asked.

“All evening, and usually right beside me,” I said. “He pulled Tyler aside a few minutes ago. I think I saw them go down toward the water.”

As they left to finish their goodbyes, I searched out Mrs. Raine to get my post-wedding marching orders. A few minutes later, I caught a glimpse of Cole and Damien talking near the edge of the pavilion. Apparently Damien had more to say than goodbye, because Cole didn’t look particularly happy.