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Quinn’s eyes narrowed like he couldn’t believe I remembered that, and I rolled my eyes in response because how could I not? I’d heard him talk to his clients plenty of times in the past few weeks because, just like mine, they tended to call at all hours with emergencies. The only difference was Quinn was able to take his calls in front of me.
After hearing about his asshole ex the day before, though, that story took on new significance.
“You know, Popkin, you never told me who the other wedding planner was.” I tried to sound casual.
“Unimportant,” Quinn said just as casually, but the look on his face confirmed what I already suspected. Fucking Scott.
I reached out absently to hold Quinn’s hand. His fingers tangled with mine automatically, as if we’d been holding hands on and off for years. It felt nice. Really fucking nice. So nice, I couldn’t manage to convince myself that it had been for Marissa’s benefit.
“My point is,” I went on, “this man is very talented. You couldn’t be in better hands. I’m sure this lovely… ah… pastoral venue has… hidden magic. Somewhere.”
Marissa clapped her hands and bounced on her feet, which set the little golden puffball on her winter hat bobbing. “Then let’s get started so we can find the magic. I’m so excited to show you around.” She threaded her arm through Levi’s and began walking toward a distant gate in the fence line, fortunately well away from the pigs we’d seen.
Quinn and I exchanged a look at their easy familiarity.
“And we can take pictures for Trey,” Quinn said meaningfully. “And maybe he can come next time.”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “Though, honestly, with our virginity pact, it’s easier this way. The more time we spend apart, the easier it is to stay chaste, you know? So I was thinking— Ohmigosh, Levi, are you okay?”
Levi stumbled, scattering pebbles under his boots, before he righted himself. “Yeah, fine. Sorry.”
“Um. Pardon,” Quinn said politely, though I knew him well enough to know this had turned his nosy-meter up to ten thousand. “Your… what kind of pact?”
“Virginity. Well, more like re-virginity. See, when Trey proposed at Christmas, we decided to stop having sex until the wedding. That way, it’ll make our wedding night even more special. It won’t be our technical first time, but it’ll be our first time since committing ourselves to one another. Isn’t that so romantic?”
Quinn lifted his eyebrows at me. “So. So romantic. And… unexpected. Especially since you believed the wedding planning would take six months. Trey certainly is…”
“Gay?” I suggested under my breath.
Quinn cleared his throat and elbowed me. “Thoughtful.”
“Pretty sure it’s the first one,” I muttered.
Levi piped up. “I, for one, think that’s amazing. You deserve to be treated like the treasure you are. He should be grateful to have such a lovely br…” He looked around as if suddenly realizing he wasn’t alone. “Bride,” he finished softly before reaching for the gate.
We followed them around to the back side of the sprawling farmhouse to a small outdoor shed in the back.
“We’re going to put on muck boots since it’s a little wet out here today,” Marissa said happily, pointing to row after row of muddy rain and work boots. “Pick a pair that fits. We’ve got a ton.”
Quinn’s face lost a little color as he contemplated putting on someone else’s nasty boots. “I… oh. Well, I guess if…” He looked up at me with a desperate plea for help in his eyes. I couldn’t help but lean over and kiss the edge of his lips.
“Toughen up, buttercup. We’re doing this,” I murmured against his warm skin.
He huffed and pulled back to examine the boots for the least offensive pair in his general size. They happened to be purple with giant white daisies on them.
“Let me help you,” Levi offered to Marissa, guiding her onto a nearby bench and picking a specific pair of boots off the shelf for her. He guided the boots onto her feet one at a time while looking up at her with stars in his eyes. Marissa’s cheeks flushed light pink. “I know how upset you get when you mess up your nails.”
“Thanks,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Shit,” Quinn murmured.
“Mmhm,” I agreed softly. “Gonna need to keep an eye on that if you want this wedding to happen.”
“It’s happening,” he said, recapturing his usual determination.
I grinned, making him automatically scowl.
“What? Why are you doing that with your face?”
“That’s the Quinn I know and lo… lick,” I said, scrambling to correct myself before poisoning the air between us with stupid L-words. “You’re a fighter. You’re going to kick ass.”
He seemed to stand a little taller. “That’s right. I am.”
Once everyone was properly shod, we went back out into the weak winter light and trekked all over hell and back, trying to find a spot—any spot—we could turn into an elegant wedding venue.
