Hands off Bubu

At 12, Miguel stood at the front of the small church beside Ross and watched Maggie float down the aisle on her father’s arm.

The wedding march poured from the church organ, and huge bouquets of flowers scented the warm late afternoon air.

Several ladies dabbed at their eyes, while Madge, clutching a tissue to her generous breasts, sobbed loudly.

But hey, he’d take a bullet for Ross or Edison, just as they would for him. If Ross wanted him to stand up here looking trussed-up like a turkey on

Thanksgiving, then that’s what he’d do. Still, Miguel thought as he shifted his weight and twisted his neck, a bullet somehow seemed easier...,,,,,,,.!,,

Maggie was halfway down the aisle, a vision in white lace, when another vision sitting in the center of the church on the end of a pew caught his eye.

Bella?

He’d dropped her off at Juliana’s house before coming to the church with Ross and Edison.

She’d been wearing faded jeans and a white, V-necked sweatshirt. Now…good Lord, now…He had to swallow the lump in his throat so he could breathe. Just how much had she changed in five years.

Staggering was the word that came to mind. The dress, a slim-fitting, spaghetti-strapped number in deep, smoky green was a perfect match for her eyes.

She’d swept her hair up into a mass of loose, tousled curls, revealing her long, slender neck. She wore a pearl choker, and he had a sudden image of her naked, wearing only that damn choker.

As if she could read his thoughts, Bella suddenly glanced at him. He could see the color rise on her cheeks, but she kept her gaze steady with his.

Even as Ross took Maggie’s hand and turned to the minister, Miguel couldn’t look away from Bella.

When the minister said, “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here…” Miguel forced his attention back to the ceremony, listened as Ross and Maggie exchanged vows, smiled when Ross’s voice shook slightly.

When Ross and Maggie shared their first kiss as man and wife, the church broke into applause and whistles. Miguel couldn’t help but grin at the happy couple.

And as he watched them walk back down the aisle, he did his best to ignore the odd sense of foreboding that tingled at the base of his neck.

The reception was in the formal ballroom of the Four Winds Hotel, the biggest and most elegant hotel, owned by none other than Edison. White linens, tied with bows of tule and pink ribbon, draped the dozens of round tables, and the tall centerpieces were bursting with sprays of tiny white flowers and deep pink roses. Music drifted from the dance floor, a slow song dedicated to Ross and Maggie, and a deejay droned on about all lovers joining them on the dance floor.

Miguel stayed close to the bar.

“That’s one mighty-fine-looking woman you got there, boss.” Edison grabbed two bottles of beer from the bartender and handed one to Miguel. “reminds me of someone.”

Miguel took a long, deep swig from the bottle, then leaned back against the bar and frowned as he watched Bella glide around the dance floor in the arms of Brett Rivers.

From the way she’d danced every dance since the music had started, it seemed that every eligible man here tonight—and a few not-so-eligible—agreed with Edison.

He hadn’t realized just how incredibly long her legs were until he’d seen her in that dress. How narrow her waist was—just the right size for a man’s hands. Or how graceful the curve of her shoulders and back. How sexy.

Miguel’s hand tightened around his beer as Brett slid his hand lower on Bella’s slim, smooth back. When the man said something close to her ear, she laughed. Miguel clenched his jaw.

Edison took a swig of his beer. “That Brett’s a good dancer, don’t you think?”

Miguel knew that Edison was goading him, but he refused to rise to the bait. He’d never been the jealous type, and he had no reason to be now, he told himself.

He and Bella weren’t involved. He just felt a certain…responsibility, that was all.

They were both leaving tomorrow, going their separate ways, and he couldn’t rest until she was safely on a plane to Philadelphia.

Once she was back home, he was certain he’d have nothing to worry about. She’d be fine. Absolutely fine.

When Brett pulled her closer, Miguel thought he heard the bottle crack in his hand.

“Smile!”

A light flashed in his face, blinding him for a moment. Juliana grinned at him over the top of a throw-away camera. In spite of himself, Miguel did smile, even if it was a little late.

“Good thing you married this gorgeous woman, or I’d find it my bachelor duty to hit on her.”

“Try it and you’re a dead man,” Edison snarled goodnaturedly. “She’s all mine.”

Miguel watched with amusement as Edison pulled Juliana into his arms and gave her a kiss. They shared a look that had Miguel tugging at his bow tie. There it was again, that strange prickling at the back of his neck. If he believed in them, he’d say it was a premonition of something coming.

But that was ridiculous.

“Bella looks wonderful in that dress, don’t you think so, Miguel?” Juliana took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“It’s nice,” he said blandly, watched with irritation as, another single male, cut in on Brett when the deejay switched to a disco song. He felt some satisfaction that the man wasn’t holding her close, but the way Bella moved her body was enough to make a man’s brain melt.

“Nice?” Juliana raised a brow at Miguel, then looked at Edison. “He thinks she looks nice?”

“He’s got it bad.” Edison gave his wife a knowing nod. “Real bad.”

“Shut up,,” Miguel snapped. “You don’t know sh—anything,” he finished politely for Juliana’s sake.

“Who’s got it bad?” Ross came up from behind, signaled the bartender for a beer, then grinned at Lucas. “Oh, you must be talking about Miguel.”

Miguel glared at Ross. “Just because it’s your wedding, Santos, don’t think I won’t punch you out. Both of you.”

Ross and Miguel looked at each other and grinned. “Real bad,” they both said at the same time.

That did it. Miguel slammed his beer down, and since Edison started it, reached for him first.

“Hey,” said sharply, “isn’t that Bubu dancing with Valerie? Ross, did you invite him?”

“We invited his parents,” Ross said with a sigh. “He just showed up with them.”

Bubu? Miguel’s head snapped up. Roger Bubu? And he was dancing with Bella?

A muscle jumped in Miguel’s jaw. Not in this lifetime, he thought, narrowing his eyes as he made his way to the dance floor.

“You must be new to Wolf River,” the blond man said to Bella as he pulled her into his arms. “I would have noticed a woman who looks like you.”

Bella wished that the dance had been fast instead of slow. This guy’s hands left her cold, just like his pickup line.

Until now, she’d enjoyed dancing, though the one man she’d wanted to ask her hadn’t come within a mile of her. And though her mind knew that was for the best, her heart didn’t much seem to care.

“My name’s Roger.” Roger cocked his head and gave her a half smile, a look he’d obviously spent a great deal of time perfecting in the mirror, Bella decided. “Roger Bubu. I’m a lawyer with Milton, Mead and Burns.”

“How nice.” She gave him a polite smile. “Are you friends with the bride or groom?”

“Both, actually.” He spun her awkwardly, and Bella stumbled into him, another move he’d obviously practiced, she thought irritably. “We’re school chums, though Maggie was a couple of years younger. We all hung out together. How about you?” he asked, bringing his face c
lose to hers. “You here with someone, or do I have you all to myself?”

“She’s with me, Bubu. Hands off.”