I wasn't expecting anything when I slipped out of the reception. I just needed a smoke.
The air was cold, Wisconsin can be brutal in late October, and I had lost my jacket right about the time my sister and her new husband had finished ruling he dance floor. It wasn't exactly my favorite kind of scene, weddings tended to make me maudlin, especially after seven years single and almost as long without sex. The kids and grandparents had all left, just the twenty-something's and one forty-eight year old smoker who had promised his sister the bride that he would run designated driver for the evening.
Weak, Timothy, I thought to myself, but you've always had your sisters' backs, part and parcel with being the oldest.
I sucked hard on the cigarette, hoping to finish up quick when the side door of the reception hall banged open behind me, sending me stumbling into the dumpster on my left.
"Fuck! Watch it assho...." And I shut up quick. The curvy little brunette standing behind the door had her hand raised to her mouth in horror at hitting me, and her huge green eyes sucked all my anger away.
"Jesus , Tim , I'm so fucking sorry! Are you ok?"
It was Ellie, the groom's younger sister, youngest of my sister Lucy's bridesmaids. Her sleeveless blue dress was unflattering on a busty little figure that needed very little flattery, and her brown curls were mussed and sweaty from the dancing.
"I'm fine, thanks. Need some air?"
She smiled, relieved, and it was like the sun coming up. Wide soft lips, perfect teeth, and those eyes like summer grass. Those boys on the dance floor were some lucky little shits.
" Yeah, but I really needed a smoke." She rummaged around in her bag, a tiny little black clutch, and pulled out a hand rolled joint. I knew the smell instantly.
She caught me staring and hesitated "You ok with this? I can find another spot."
