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Aria groaned and threw her head back, then laughter danced in her eyes when she looked back at me. “You kill me, Lyn. Make a move already. Shelby, Layla, and I have been waiting an eternity for this, and I’m going to go nuts if you don’t do it soon.”
Rolling my eyes, I sat back in my chair. “Why doIhave to make the move? Beau’s had plenty of chances to ask me out over the last year, but he hasn’t. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“How would you know if he’s had plenty of chances to ask you out? You never look up from your Kindle.”
I pouted, but I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. “Not fair.”
“Totally fair,” she insisted. “I love you, girlfriend, but you’re so obsessed with the heroes of your romance novels that you keep ignoring the one that’s right in front of you.”
Oh boy, here we go.
I chuckled, unbothered by the familiar sentiment from my friend. My sister and our other friend Shelby were constantly saying the same stuff. But they didn’t get it. The three of them had found their soul mates in ways that belonged in the pages of one of the romance novels they teased me about.
Shelby—Childhood Friends to Lovers.
Aria—Boy Next Door mixed with Brother’s Best Friend.
Layla—Second Chance, with a side of thealwaysswoon-worthy Single Dad.
There were tropes on tropes on tropes with these three, and it didn’t occur to any of them that it wasn’t that simple for me.
Before I could even come up with a response, Aria’s chest stilled on an inhale like she was holding her breath. She made a strangled noise at the base of her throat, and her brow furrowed in pain.
“Aria? What’s wrong?” My pulse quickened, alarm bells ringing at full volume, drowning out the chatter of the wedding guests and the blaring pop music under the tent. I’d seen enough movies featuring a woman in labor to know this kind of behavior from my very pregnant friend could only mean one thing.
Well, I supposed, it could mean more thanonething—the one thing being that she was in labor a full five weeks ahead of schedule. But since that would be a bigger deal than something like indigestion or back pain, it took precedence.
“Where’s your phone?” I asked, eyes scanning the table in front of her, willing it to appear within reach.
“Over there,” she grunted.
I turned in the direction she’d jerked her chin, spotting the antique cabinet in the corner of the reception area. Aria used it as a workstation during events, and inside the wooden doors were her emergency supplies for wedding snafus or minor flesh wounds.
Without delay, I dashed over to it and flung the doors open wide, snatching her phone off the top shelf and unlocking it with the passcode I’d memorized—0808. The date she’d had her first kiss with her now-husband, who was the first person I called as I rushed back to her side.
Will answered on the first ring, alarm in his tone since he likely knew she wouldn’t call him in the middle of a wedding. “Aria? You okay?”
“It’s Lyndi. I think she’s in labor,” I said, sitting in front of her and looking her over. My chest felt brittle, like my attempts to remain calm and in control would soon crack under the pressure. “It’s too early, right? She’s only thirty-five weeks.”
“Can you put her on the phone?” His voice was strained yet totally calm.
Knowing Will, he’d say all the right things to get his wife to relax and keep from panicking. They’d known each other since they were kids, lived next door to each other their whole lives.
Will had been there for Aria first as a friend and protector and later as a man out-of-his-mind in love with her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her and no mountain he wouldn’t climb to make sure she knew it.
Those simple facts paired with his measured tone had me passing the phone to Aria with a much steadier hand than when I’d first called him.
She reached out and took it with a wince, pressing it to her ear. “Will?”
The seconds passed like lightning while she spoke to him in short, broken sentences. I couldn’t even hear her over the mental to-do list stacking up in my brain. Aria didn’t need me to shut down right now. She needed me to handle her event so she could get to the hospital without upsetting her clients.
In a flash, I was out of my seat and giving orders to the few staff members I knew she trusted most. Then I headed for the assistant photographer who came with me for weddings of this size. I told her what was going on and asked her to get all the remaining shots we needed.
Moments later, I was back at her side, feeling confident that Aria’sworkbaby was in good hands.
And now we take care of the human baby.
“Okay,” she said into the phone, her voice breaking. “I promise. Yeah, I love you, too.”
