No Strings Attached

His face, a masterpiece of chiseled grace, coupled with a rogueish charm that clung to him like fine cologne, set hearts racing among the crowd of young women. Their excitement spilled over in high-pitched squeals.

Brodie, ever the gentleman, pulled out a chair for Clara with a flourish, inviting her to take a seat. He then fetched a slice of strawberry shortcake from a silver platter and placed it before himself.

Just as Clara thought he'd dig in alone, with fork poised, she caught him meticulously fishing out the bright red berries from within the cake's layers. He flashed her a grin and offered her the strawberry-free treat. "Here you go, no berries."

Clara gazed at him in disbelief. She'd adored strawberry shortcake since childhood, yet paradoxically, she never ate the berries. It was a quirk known only to those closest to her.

How could this stranger seem so intimately aware? Was it mere coincidence, or had their paths crossed in some forgotten encounter?

softly at her astonished expression. "The berries in these cakes tend to be tart. I figured

washed over Clara, and she shook her head with a smile. "Not at all.

then returned to her cake, nibbling away with an air of concentration

food. Yet, how was it she had no recollection of him? Lifting his glass, he caressed

stop eating! The bride's about to toss the bouquet. Let's try to catch it!" Clara tried to protest, but Sasha's excitement was irresistible. She

the assembly, launched the bouquet into the air. All eyes tracked its arc, and just as it seemed destined for Brodie's outstretched hands

possessive irritation, sported a wild smirk unheard of before. The bouquet, once diverted, took flight again, and Brodie, unfazed, simply grinned and leapt gracefully towards it. What ensued was a comical tussle between two grown men, neither willing

on the edge of chaos, with screams of delight piercing the air from the onlooking

was dark and brooding upon Clara. She was well aware of the reason behind