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“Aww.” Marissa’s eyes went soft and shiny. “You think?”
“Definitely. Because, honey, if we’re committing to a farm wedding, we’re going full-on farm wedding. We are leaning in,” I proclaimed, squeezing her forearm briefly. “It’s gonna be magnificent.”
“I believe you,” she said softly. She clasped her hands under her chin and bit her lip as she glanced around the empty room, like she was envisioning it packed with her family and friends. “Honestly, Quinn, I can’t thank you enough. The country club wedding was about pleasing my mom. And I’m sure it would have been amazing, but this… Gosh, this is the wedding I was meant to have.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “It just feels right. And I would never have been able to ask for it if you and Champ hadn’t suggested it. I feel like you two are the only ones in this whole wedding business who are looking out for me, and that means so much.”
I clutched my tablet to my chest to hide my guilty squirm. “Well, to be fair, it was Champ’s doing—”
“I guess, but you two are a package deal now. A team. That’s how marriage works, right?”
“Ha. Yes. I suppose so.” If by “team” you meant one person who ran out on another after a night of epic lovemaking.
Not that my feelings were still hurt, obviously.
Much.
“You complement each other so well,” she continued. “Like, I could tell you weren’t a hundred percent on board with the farm wedding idea when Champ first mentioned Brailey’s farm wedding—”
“Yes, I definitely wished he hadn’t said anything about that,” I agreed.
“But then it was pretty clear that Champ was really excited about the idea for some reason. So, despite your hesitation, you backed him up. You went with it. You supported him.”
“Well, actually I…” I frowned. I guessed I had, if you looked at the situation in a certain way. “Huh.”
“And it was obvious, too, that you are the more experienced one of the pair of you.” Marissa smiled indulgently. “Champ’s probably like Levi. All about getting things done efficiently but with no real understanding of how the business works.”
I laughed. “Spot-on.”
“But it was clear that he knew he didn’t have to know, because he trusted you to make it happen, and sure enough… here you are, leaning in, coming up with this gorgeous vision, surprising even yourself with all this stuff. Right?”
I felt my lips twitch and took a sip of my mostly cold coffee. “Right.”
She sighed. “That’s why you two are total couple goals. Such a great example of how real love works.”
My coffee slid down my windpipe, and I choked.
Marissa pounded my back firmly. “I hope someday Trey and I can get to that place.”
“Sure you will,” I croaked, wiping my streaming eyes. “You’re going to be married. He’s going to be your partner in life.”
Or at least, that was the dream I’d built my business on… even though I knew it rarely worked that way.
“Yeah,” she agreed. She strolled around the room, trailing her hand over the back of a sagging couch and the worn-smooth wood of a bunk bed. “You know, Levi and I used to come out here all the time as kids? He’s two years older than me, but his dad was out here all the time working with my dad, so Levi tagged along and we’d play. We used this place as our fort, because we could see any enemies approaching from down the valley, and he had a tree branch sword he was gonna use to fight off anyone who wanted to get me.”
Uh-oh.
“How adorable!” I said, overly enthusiastic. “He was your protector even then! But that was so long ago—”
“No way.” She snorted. “I wouldn’t let him be my protector. I made him teach me to do things for myself. He taught me how to ride a horse and how to swim. How to do long division. Convinced my dad to teach me how to shoot when I was ten so I could go along on hunting trips with him and the Christiansons. Sat perfectly still while I painted a billion portraits of him when we were teenagers. Said I wasn’t crazy for dreaming about running an arts program for underprivileged children someday, even though my parents preferred that I work for the family business. He’s not my protector. He’s my…”
Her voice trailed off, and I stared up at her, but she didn’t notice. Her voice had a faraway quality.
Oh, sweet mother of fuck. This was so much worse than I’d thought.
Marissa loved the man… or something close to love, anyway. I could recognize the symptoms the same way I could recognize poison ivy and other toxic things I wanted to avoid.
But if she loved him, why the heck was she marrying Trey?
None of your damn business, Taffet, I reminded myself. You are not her life coach. Your business is to get the couple to the altar.
