"Yeah, don't sweat it," Harper adds with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Considering Mason finally landed a new carpentry gig, Arthur works in the evenings when you're home, and Knox always has a lot on his plate at his job, I'm not surprised. They're just busy."
"Right," I say. "Right, you're probably right."
"Alright, ladies," the seamstress claps her hands together. "I think we have the everything perfectly pinned. If the bride would like to do a little walkthrough, now's the moment."
Scene 2
Being surrounded by Harper, Maren, and Luna leaves me with a lingering, comfortable warmth.
But as the door of the boutique chimes shut behind us, that warmth is quickly followed by a sting of guilt. It feels like a betrayal to even have mentioned I was considering leaving Lakeview when I have friends like this.
"Alright, I've got to run," Maren says, pulling her keys from her purse. "Got a meeting with my vanilla supplier."
"And I need to go meet Ben to finalize details for the wedding catering," Harper adds, giving me a quick hug. "Thank you girls so much for doing this with me."
She hugs Maren and Luna and we wave her off, a chorus ofof courses and it was so nice. Once Harper and Maren head off down the street to their cars, I turn to Luna. "What about you? Any plans?"
Luna is already staring down at her phone, a massive, goofy smile on her face. "Derek just texted," she announces, practically glowing. "I might be heading to Ridgeville yet again..."
With a quick hug, she scurries off, leaving me standing on the corner, preparing myself for a quiet walk back to the apartment.
Except, when I turn toward the crosswalk, I see a very familiar dark truck parked halfway down the block.
Mason is leaning against the driver's side door, wearing a worn flannel and jeans, arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
My heart does a stupid, erratic flutter. I walk up to him, clutching my purse strap. "Mason? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," he says. His voice is a low and steady rumble. He pushes off the truck. "Just wondering if you were busy right now."
"Busy?" I repeat, my brain struggling to catch up.
He shifts his weight, looking down at me with a startling amount of focus. "I was thinking about last week. About showing you around. I talked to Arthur and Knox, and the thing is, weall have different spots we like." He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. "We figured it would make more sense to show you around individually. And this way, we'll also get to know each other better. I mean, we've been living together for a little over a month but never had a proper one-on-one conversation."
I stare at him, feeling a knot in my chest suddenly unspool. I spent the entire week bummed out they didn't mention showing me around again, so, you know.Noice.
"I know it's last minute," Mason continues. "And I know I didn't exactly consult you before showing up. If you have other plans, or whatever, we can figure out a better time."
My schedule is so entirely empty this weekend that my backup plan was to maybe go to the shop and work on flower arrangements for next week, just to kill time.
"So where are we going?" I smile.
12
Beth
My shoulder is about six inches from his on the passenger seat, and every time he shifts gears, the muscle in his forearm rolls under the worn flannel—a slow, heavy swell that strains the fabric and makes me briefly forget what peripheral vision is for.
He drives one-handed, easy and unhurried, like he's got nowhere to be.
Which is strange, because Mason always seems like he's got somewhere to be.
"Everything okay?" he asks without looking over.
My cheeks turn pink. "Oh—yeah, I'm just—uh, observing."
"Uh-huh." The corner of his mouth twitches. "What've you observed so far?"
"You're not wearing a jacket and it's only like sixty degrees," I retort.
