“Did I mention she was in a matching ballgown with a leg slit up to her nostrils?”
Gracie’s smile goes megawatt as she laughs, and my heart feels bruised with every new beat. What thehelldid that kiss do to me? Silently, I pick up the next dress, and the next, more in awe of her with each one.
“You’re incredibly talented” is what breaks loose in a hoarse scratch when I’m finally able to speak. “Thisis what you should be doing, Gracie. Not running errands for a bunch of newlyweds.”
Her smile disappears. “It’s a lot more than running errands,” she says. “Believe it or not, planning the happiest day of someone’s life is pretty fulfilling.”
Good going, dickhead. I close my eyes. “I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say.” I meet her gaze again. “I guess my ‘shriveled little raisin of a heart’ hasn’t fully rehydrated.”
I’m relieved to see a reluctant smile tug at her lips. “It’s okay. I’ve had my prejudices about your work, too.” She pauses. “But Henry really went to bat for you tonight. He helped me see a new perspective, maybe.”
“Jesus. I really don’t deserve him, do I?”
“Definitely questionable after yesterday,” she says softly, and it’s the closest we’ve come to brushing up against the one thing we shouldn’t talk about. But as usual, she sweeps away all my best intentions with one drop of her lashes.
“Did you have a good time with him tonight?”
She’s shifted closer to me. I know I’m not imagining it because I’m halfway to drowning in her scent of honeyed flowers.
“I did,” she says. “He’s nice, charming, thoughtful. Everything I’ve been hoping for.”
“That’s… great,” I despair.
“Really great,” she agrees, but she doesn’t sound convinced either.
“So did he get a kiss good night?” I ask, my voice a low, possessive rumble that’s light years away from the casual tone I was aiming for.
Her eyes flick up to mine, and I hear her swallow. “No. We didn’t kiss.”
Her words are like a match striking up my spine. If I were a decent person, I’d be disappointed for my friend. But right now, with relief pounding in my veins, decency feels like a rope that just slid out of my desperate grip.
“I’m sure he wanted to,” I say, speaking directly from personal experience.
Her lashes dip. “Before yesterday, I thought we would. But I’m not sure we have that kind of chemistry.” When her eyes meet mine again, I know we’re both thinking of the cake shop. Citrus and rose, dark chocolate and coffee. The dark flutter of her lashes when my mouth found her pulse.
“Not like us.” It comes out hushed, like a secret only we know.
She shakes her head. I shift closer. “It didn’t mean anything,” she insists. “We both just got caught up in the game you started.”
The words sting because it was the first time a kiss was more than nothing to me, and from the way she’s looking at me, she knows it.
“Then what are we caught up in right now?” I ask, clocking the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about that kiss?”
Her breath audibly catches, and Iknowshe feels this, too. Unable to stop myself, I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her skin. Her eyes drift shut, and I’m mesmerized by the sheen of her eyelids and parted lips.
“We could try this, couldn’t we?” I hear myself bargaining. “If we just stopped this bullshit over Larkwood and you let me pay for this cottage, we could—”
But I don’t get to finish my desperate, punch-drunk words because her eyes snap open. “Excuse me?”
“Wait,” I say as she takes a step back from me.
“I can’t believe you,” she says, shaking her head as though to clear it.
“Gracie, listen—”
“Trying to convince me to sell the cottage when you’ve got me so—” The color of her cheeks deepens as she cuts herself off. “Is this some kind of tactic? Is all ofthisjust to manipulate me?” she demands, gesturing frantically between our chests.
“No, of course not,” I say, stepping back, horrified. “I’d never do that to you.”
