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“Oh. Huh. Thanks.” Her shoulders relaxed. “You look very handsome. I’ve never seen you in a tux before.”

“That’s because I can’t breathe in them.”

She grinned at me. “I can’t breathe in this either.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

I closed the distance between us and pulled her against me, wrapping my arms carefully around her waist. “I want to kiss you—actually, I’d like to push you back on the bed and utterly defile you—but that dress looks delicate, and I know you just finished your makeup. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone. Now I’m glad my mom and Alexander invited everyone they know in Boston. All the more people I can parade my beautiful, brilliant girlfriend in front of.”

Lauren blushed, but she looked pleased. “Stop.”

“Not ever, babe.”

Chapter 27

Lauren

The Catholic ceremony seemed to go on forever. My agnost

ic parents had never taken us to church, and I was baffled by all the sitting, standing, and kneeling—but it did help me figure out how to maneuver my dress without ripping it. Good thing Gabe was one of the attendants. He would’ve laughed if he’d seen me struggling to keep up with the priest’s nebulous instructions.

When the priest announced Alexander and Cynthia as husband and wife, the crowd cheered. The couple grinned at each other and sealed their vows with the traditional kiss. When they turned to face the pews, they both looked exuberant.

Gabe turned from his mother and stared at me, an intense look on his face. I smiled, and he flashed his dimple, but his eyes were fiery…almost as if he were seeing me for the first time.

Back at the Four Seasons, enormous floral arrangements dominated each table. A giant crystal chandelier and hundreds of flickering candles washed the room in a warm, elegant glow.

Even with the gorgeous backdrop, Gabe’s mother stole the show. She couldn’t stop smiling, and her enthusiasm as she held on to Alexander while hugging her family and friends was infectious.

She greeted me warmly, pulling me in for a hug. “You’re so beautiful, Lauren.”

She turned to Gabe, giving him a long, admonishing look—almost as if she was about to ground him—then leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

She winked at me when she pulled back.

A faint blush crept up Gabe’s cheek—something I’d never seen before. He glowered at her. “See you on the dance floor, Mother.”

Gabe pulled me away and hustled me through the reception, grabbing two flutes of champagne as we went. “Please don’t let her scare you away.”

I shook my head. “I love your mother.” She had many of the same good qualities as Gabe. She was open, confident, and loving. Gabe had all those traits, but they were wrapped in an aggressive, relentless package; his mother wore them more softly.

He had a long sip of champagne—more like a slug. “She’s obviously crazy about you. In an absolutely mortifying way.”

“What did she just say?” I didn’t mean to pry, but he seemed rattled.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She wanted to talk logistics.”

“Logistics of what?”

Gabe suddenly held my pocketbook—which he’d been carrying for me—up to his ear. “I think that’s your phone. You should check it in case it’s Hannah.”

It was Hannah’s number on the screen. I answered immediately. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she sobbed.

My heart pounded in my ears. “Then why are you crying?”

“Wes is awake.” She erupted into fresh sobs. “He’s awake and he’s okay.”

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