“Oof.” Rusty took a step back, raising up his palms. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I didn’t exactly make myself known either.”
“Then we’ll call it even.” She took stock of his outfit. Due to her love of clothing and fashion, she normally paid attention to what others wore. But she never judged. Everyone had their own sense of style, and Rusty’s currentlyresembled thrift-store comfort. Nothing wrong with that, but there was comfort and then there was . . . whatever this was. His cobalt-blue suit jacket sat tight around the shoulders but loose around the middle and barely escaped clashing with his navy-blue pants. She’d noticed—especially since she and the Mercedes had spent so much time at his garage lately—he’d slimmed down over the last year. Only now did she realize how much. His baggy work shirt and jeans hid a lot, but it was clear that his dress clothes were way too big. The green-and-white plaid shirt was a nice pattern—for golf pants. And she had to resist the urge to pat down the cowlick sticking up on the right side of his head.
None of these things were horrible. Just messy, in a clueless kind of way.
“Harper!” Riley called out from a few feet away, motioning for her to go to the bridal table in front of the stage. The heavy burgundy velvet curtains that usually hung there had been replaced with layers of sheer fabric, also covered in lights.
Harper glanced around and saw that most of the guests had already found their seats. “Gotta run,” she said, moving quickly past Rusty. Then she called out over her shoulder, “Save me a dance, okay?”
“Uh, okay.”
But she barely heard him as she took her place next to Olivia. “I know, I know,” she said, sitting down between her and Paisley. “I’m late again.”
Olivia reached out under the table and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said. “I’ve been a little crabby lately.”
Relieved, Harper squeezed her friend’s hand. “It’s all right. I was late, and I deserved it.” She started to tell her why, then decided against it. Putting her job before her BFFs wasn’t a good look. She also felt bad that she hadn’t noticed Olivia being crabby at all up until today. Usually the Lattes met once a week at Knots and Tangles, but she hadn’t been able to meet with them lately due to, of course, work. That wasn’t good either.
“Everything worked out great, though.” Olivia’s strained expression softened as she glanced at Anita and Tanner. The two sat close together, their heads touching as Anita spoke into his ear. “They’re both so happy. And I’m happy for them.”
Harper nodded. “Me too.” She shoved business out of her mind. Tonight she was going to enjoy herself and her friends. Work would have to wait.
***
Rusty was experiencing déjà vu. Or life on repeat, to be more accurate. He was babysitting the punch bowl again, like he’d done during Riley and Hayden’s reception last year. But unlike the weak beverage they had served, the margarita drink in this bowl packed a little punch—pun intended.
He took a sip from his small clear glass and watched everyone dancing. This was his third drink, and apparently that was the charm, because he was starting to feel the effects. Not bad ones, just a mellow sensation going through him as he spied Harper and Kingston slow dancing together.
“Save me a dance.”Her request had surprised him, but he hadn’t taken it seriously. She had her pick of partners, and at the moment Kingston was her choice. He’d seen them walk into the community center together. He had to admit they looked good together, like one of those celebrity couples from the magazines he kept in the small waiting room at his garage to help his customers pass the time. Once the bridal party introductions were finished, Harper and Kingston hadn’t parted ways and continued to dance during the next song. Which was fine by Rusty.Whatever makes her happy.
“Psst.”
Rusty turned to see that Jasper, the town’s oldest resident and one of Senior’s good friends, had appeared next to him. “Hey, Jasper,” he said. “Want some punch?”
“Shhh.” He moved closer to him. “Keep your voice down, will ya?”
Leaning toward him, Rusty asked, “Why we whisperin’?”
“I’m trying to be incognito.”
“Why?”
Jasper gave him an exasperated look. “Never figured you for the nosy type.”
Eyebrows raised, Rusty turned away and finished off his punch.
“Fine, since you’re buggin’ me about it.” Jasper moved close enough to Rusty that he was almost leaning against him. He was several inches shorter than Rusty and at least half his size. “I’m avoidingher.”
Rusty’s gaze followed the direction Jasper pointed. “Myrtle?”
“No. The battle ax next to her.”
His eyes widened. “You’re hidin’ from Ms. McAllister?”
“Avoiding. There’s a difference, boy.”
