Page 26 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

She stopped to look at coffeemakers, frowning at the prices. I watched as she surveyed the limited selection. She pulled a box off the shelf and stared at it. I had no idea what she was looking at.

“They’re so expensive,” she muttered, putting it back on the shelf.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can buy one for you.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll order one off Amazon. It’ll just take a couple of days.”

I didn’t push, but I made a mental note to look into it later. She led me around the store, helping me find the sandwich stuff and ultimately an aisle filled with the healthy stuff. By the time we finished, the cart was overflowing. I had no idea why I bought so much. It was the novelty of it all. And I was hungry. It all looked really good.

After dropping a few hundred dollars, we headed back to the car. The trunk was full, which was oddly satisfying.

“Can you swing by my bakery?” she asked. “I need to check on something.”

“Sure.”

I couldn’t help but notice she was looking at the buildings as I drove down the road. To me, it looked like she was looking for something. Or someone.

I parked in front of the bakery. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

I waited in the car, watching as she walked to the shop next door to hers. She was talking to a woman. Their conversation was animated, and from where I was sitting, she looked upset. Stressed.

She got back in the car without going into the bakery, which seemed odd to me.

Her mood had noticeably shifted.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She nodded, but it was clear things were not fine. “Yeah, just… another shop sold out. It’s fine.”

I didn’t pry, but I made a mental note to look into it. I didn’t realize she owned her building, and the fact that she was holding her ground against whatever was going on mades me see her in a new light. I knew a little about real estate and I was guessing there was probably a run for the property. It would be a very lucrative investment.

I drove us out to the rental property where her car was waiting.

“I’ll help you carry your groceries in,” she said.

I popped the trunk and grabbed as many bags as I could carry. She followed suit, her arms loaded with groceries. We made our way up the walkway to the front door, the weight of the bags pulling at my arms.

“Thanks,” I said once we had everything unloaded.

I debated asking her if she wanted to go for a swim in the pool. But I held back. I didn’t want to push.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the venue, right? Eliza said you were going.”

“I will be there,” I said. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“My car is fine,” she said with obvious irritation.

I smirked. “Alright. Fair enough. I’ll meet you there.”

I walked her to the door and watched her get in her car. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with her. Dorie had a wall around her, that much was clear. She was charming and friendly with everyone else, but with me, she was cold and teasing. I couldn’t figure out why.

And it shouldn’t matter. She was my best friend’s future wife’s sister. I didn’t need to be her friend. She obviously didn’t want to be my friend.

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the mountain of grocery bags scattered across the counter. I sighed, pushing up my sleeves. Might as well get this over with.

I started with the fridge, shoving cartons of almond milk and pre-packaged salads into the crisper drawers. The freezer got the pizzas and frozen veggie bowls and various frozen meals.

By the time I was done, my kitchen looked like someone had actually lived here for more than a couple of days. It was oddly satisfying, even if most of it would probably go bad before I got around to eating it.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and wandered out to the pool. The air was a little cool, but the pool was heated. I didn’t have anything else to do for the day. A swim seemed like a good idea. I headed upstairs to change into my swimming trunks.

I pulled a towel from the linen closet and headed back outside. I dove into the pool, the water closing around me like a cool embrace. I swam a few laps thinking about Dorie. Her sharp tongue, her guardedness, the way she’d looked so upset talking to that woman outside her bakery. There was something she wasn’t saying, something bothering her. Maybe that was why she was so short with me. It wasn’t me that pissed her off—it was whatever she was dealing with.