“You want me to ring the bell?” he asked.
There wasn’t even a hint of judgment in his expression. He didn’t pressure me to go in or suggest we could still turn around. Just a steady calmness, like whatever I chose next was entirely up to me.
Somehow, that made it easier.
I shook my head and reached past him, pressing the bell myself. A few moments later, the door opened. A young woman in a navy dress and a wedding staff badge greeted us with a polite smile.
“Welcome. Names, please?”
We gave them, and she checked something on a tablet before stepping aside.
“The welcome reception is already underway on the back lawn. I can have someone escort you there.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I know the way.”
The house was almost exactly as I remembered it. The same oversized sofas still occupied the formal sitting room.
Framed family photos still lined the mantel above the fireplace. In the glass cabinet near the staircase, Gabby’s collection of miniature silver spoons still sat neatly displayed.
Even the faint dent in the crown molding at the far corner of the living room was still there, barely noticeable unless you knew to look for it.
It had come from a football Darryl and I had thrown too close to the ceiling back in our sophomore year. The house really hadn’t changed much. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me.
There were quicker routes to the back lawn. I could have cut through the kitchen or taken the hallway past the library.
Instead, I followed the flow of guests, weaving through clusters of people already gathering inside. Judging by the number of voices, it sounded like most of the guests had already arrived.
My stomach gave a small, uneasy twist.Were we late?
I found myself reaching for the edge of my jacket again. Dane’s fingers tightened around mine just before I could start fidgeting.
I looked down at our joined hands, then slowly around the room. Only then did something obvious click into place. There wasn’t a single person wearing a tie.
“Oh no,” I muttered.
“What?” Dane’s attention sharpened immediately.
“Take off your tie.”
His eyes flicked across the room again, scanning the crowd properly this time. “Oh.”
I was already fumbling with my own tie, but the knot refused to cooperate no matter how I tried to loosen it.
The collar of my shirt caught at the wrong angle, my fingers slipping in ways that only seemed to make things worse, and after a few increasingly determined attempts, I felt Dane gently catch my wrists.
“Give me that,” he said. His mouth twitched slightly as he took in the mess I had made. “You’re only making it worse.”
With infuriating ease, he loosened the knot and slipped the tie free. He rolled it neatly and put it inside his jacket pocket.
His hands returned to me, smoothing down the hair I had messed up in the struggle. His touch lingered briefly near my temple before sliding lower, his fingers resting just beneath my ear.
For a second, maybe two, I became painfully aware of every point of contact between us.
“There,” he said quietly.
I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”
His eyes stayed on mine a little longer than necessary, and then, as if nothing had happened at all, he stepped back.
