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“Yeah, well…” I lightly pat Oliver on the back, then step out of his embrace. “You can tell him he owes me big for this.”
“No problem. I’m sure he won’t mind.” Oliver counters, with much more enthusiasm than is necessary, before retrieving a phone out of his pocket. He taps on the screen. The faint sound of ringing can be heard briefly until he places it against his ear.
I sure hope this isn’t a bad idea.
“Henley? What are you doing answering Trenton’s phone? Is everything okay?”
The concern in Oliver’s tone raises my attention.
“Oh, that’s good,” Oliver says into the phone. “No, no need to wake him. It can wait. He really needed the rest. He’s been going non-stop for the past couple of months. Add to that this thing with Tucker…” He meets my eyes while he’s listening to Henley, probably getting an earful about some damn game he’s playing.
I can’t stop my eyes from rolling at the thought. That kid needs a real job. One where he gets out and meets people, not just other antisocial boys who probably live in their parents’ basements.
Oliver’s brows furrow for a split second before his attention goes back to the phone. “Yeah, things with tucker are a big mess. We can talk about it later. I’ve got to go now. Thanks again.”
When they disconnect and his phone is securely back in his pocket, he crosses his arms and his expression goes straight. “What is it with the two of you?”
“There’s nothing with Trenton and I,” I counter, looking down at the wrench twirling between my fingers.
“I’m talking about Henley.”
Turning around, I latch the wrench onto a nut that doesn’t need to be removed so Oliver doesn’t press me for information I’m not ready to give. “Yeah, and I’m really busy. So if you can’t help me get this car running, then maybe you should go.”
“Fine, don’t tell me now. I’ll just get you drunk at the wedding and you can tell Trenton and me everything then.” His laugh fills the room as he heads toward the exit.
I’ll have to avoid the open bar until after he and Trenton take off.
I keep my hand on the wrench while I wait for the door to click closed, silently hoping that I can get back to what I was doing before he got here.
“Oh, one last thing,” he says, standing in the doorframe.
So fucking close. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’re bringing a date.”
“What the fuck, Oliver.” This day just keeps getting better and better. “I’m not bringing a goddamn date to your wedding.” He doesn’t hear my protest, though, because he’s already disappeared through the door.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVER
The day has been an exhausting one. I’m thankful we’d hired decorators for the reception because there’s no way in hell we would’ve had the energy to climb ladders and hang fairy lights or shake out tablecloths for fifty tables. Not after picking up our tuxes, checking on the cake and flowers, and then getting home and changed in time for the rehearsal and dinner.
Taking a moment to decompress, Trenton and I sit in the quiet space of our living room. Well, I’m sitting; he's stretched out with his head in my lap.
His eyes are closed and I’m enjoying the feel of his soft hair as I run my fingers through it.
“Hmm, that feels good.”
“You deserve it, babe. Our wedding is going to be amazing because of all the hard work you’ve put into it. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to help more with all of the arrangements. The marketing firm has been unusually busy.”
“It didn’t feel like work to me. I really enjoyed doing it. Plus, the rehearsal dinner was all you.” He shifts on the couch, lifting those sparkling emerald eyes to mine. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” I tell him, lowering my head and relishing in the way sparks ignite when our lips connect.
He tastes of vanilla, and his spicy scent from earlier today still lingers around him. There’s truly no getting enough of this man. I deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth and tangling my tongue with his.
Changing into sleep pants once we got home was not a good idea. There’s no thicker suit or denim material to hide my feelings for the man I will be vowing to spend the rest of my life with in less than twenty-four hours.
