AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Willow
Truth and Punches
I hopped around the room trying to get my shoe on as I shoved my phone between my chin and shoulder. “I know, Rach. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I got…interrupted.”
“By who?”
“Let’s talk about it when I see you. Ransom is going to pick you up, and we’ll head into Crescent Cove.”
“Why is he coming? Can’t we just go?”
I glanced at Ransom, who was stuffing his chain under his shirt. “He has to get a haircut and his tux. It’s just easier. And we don’t have to worry about parking.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Fine. We can walk everywhere. I swear my ass is spreading from all the meetings I’ve been going to. Let alone my regular business stuff.”
“The CocoaBus will be waiting for you after the honeymoon.”
“I know. And I’m excited to go to Greece. Can you believe that’s where we’re going? I’ve always wanted to go.”
Another thing I’d missed discussing with her. We’d probably be shopping for fabulous clothes for her to wear. I stuffed down the sadness and brightened my voice. “Clay has been emailing me for a month, trying to hash out details for the trip.”
“No hints?”
“Not a one.”
“You guys are all terrible. You know I hate not knowing.”
My type-A sister was going to enjoy herself, and I wasn’t ruining any more of her wedding celebrations. It killed me that I would be putting a dark smudge on her perfect day.
Hurricane Willow strikes again.
“We’ll see you in a half hour.”
“Fine. At least you’re coming with me for the flowers.”
“And I’m excited.”
“Probably want to film stuff, right?”
“Maybe.” I had a whole series of videos I’d planned to gift her in the guise of making content for my channel.
“Well, bring a battery backup, it’s going to be a busy one. Love you, bye.”
And then she was gone. Rachel was always going at a million miles per hour, but the wedding had made her just that much more… Rachel.
Weddings did that to people. Would mine do that to me?
Not that I could even consider that right now. My sister’s was my only priority at this stage of the game. I already felt hopelessly guilty for missing so much time with her. The last thing I was going to do was get caught up in thinking about my own future ceremony.
Even if I was just a bitgahabout the whole thing. How was any of this my life?
I tugged at the one clean shirt I’d found at the bottom corner of my box of clothes. I looked in his mirror near the chair I’d commandeered for my wardrobe. The lilac shirt was a smidge too tight from probably eight million washes.
“Can wepleaseget my stuff today?” I tried to keep the whine out of my voice, but my fun box was practically bare at this point. And I didn’t want to flash any nipple action to anyone who wasn’t my future husband.
Holy crap. Would I ever get used to that?
