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“Thanks, man. I owe you,” Cade says, pulling me into a hug.
“You don’t owe me anything, Cade.” I lower my voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow. She still has no idea, right?”
He shakes his head. “She thinks we’re going for a barbecue at Nash and Paisley’s place.”
“Good. If you need me to sit with her again, let me know.”
“Thanks, Seb.”
I raise my hand in a wave and jog down the porch steps to my bike. Climbing on, I pull on my helmet and start the engine. Despite needing to collect Cade and Sophie’s gift, I find myself riding away from Hope Creek. Being on my bike clears my head and helps me think, and right now, all I can think about is Taylor. Sophie’s words play on a loop in my mind, and I can’t help but wonder if Tayloristhe woman I want to take a risk for. If I’m honest, I didn’t think anyone would ever make me want to put myself out there, but meeting Taylor changed everything, and I can’t deny that anymore. I need to talk to her and tell her how I feel. I just hope she’ll want to listen.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Taylor
It’s the day of Sophie and Cade’s baby shower, and I’ve spent the past week helping Ash to plan it all. I’m grateful she asked me to be involved. It’s been a welcome distraction from thinking about Seb and what he’s doing. I’ve seen him a handful of times. I guess it’s hard to avoid him when I live above his bar. I didn’t expect to see him when Ash invited me to Thursday roast, though. She assured me he wasn’t going to be there. When he arrived five minutes after us, I’d seen her sheepish smile, and while I knew she meant well, trying to get us into the same room and talking, it just ended up being awkward and painful. It hurts to see him, and I know it will for a while.
“Do you think we need more balloons?” Ashlyn asks as she rushes into the living room, her arms full of bunting.
I look around the balloon-filled room with wide eyes. “Ash, if you put any more balloons in here, there won’t be any room forpeople. No more balloons!”
“Okay. I just want it to be perfect.”
I put my hand on her arm. “It looks incredible, Ash. Sophie is going to love it. Let’s hang the bunting and then I think we’re done until the food arrives.”
“Shit! The food! It should be here by now.”
“It’ll be here,” I assure her. I’ve barely finished my sentence when there’s a knock on the door. “See. I bet that’s the caterers now.”
I chuckle as she tosses the bunting onto the sofa and rushes out of the living room to answer the door. I follow her, relieved when I see the catering company bringing in armfuls of food.
“The kitchen’s through there,” Ash says, holding the door open and directing them through the entryway. When they’re all in the house, she closes the door and turns to me. “God, this is stressful. Remind me never to volunteer to organize anything again.”
“Aren’t you and Paisley organizing Sophie’s belated bachelorette after this?”
She groans and drops her head back. “Paisley can do it!”
I laugh. “Let’s get through one event before we worry about the next.”
I take her hand and pull her into the living room where we spend the next fifteen minutes displaying the bunting. The room looks incredible when we’re done, and I can’t wait to see Sophie’s face when she walks in here.
“We’re back,” a voice shouts from the entryway, and nerves erupt in my stomach. Paisley and Nash went to pick up Seb, and I can’t help but feel apprehensive about seeing him today.
“I’ll go and check on the caterers,” I say to Ash. “See if they need anything.”
She smiles sadly at me. “You can’t avoid him all day, Tay.”
“I can try,” I whisper before turning and making my way into the kitchen through the door off the living room.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I’ve made my escape and spend the next ten minutes hiding in the kitchen. The caterers have everything under control, and if anything, I’m in their way. I can’t force myself to leave, though, and I busy myself organizing and reorganizing the array of drinks that sit on the countertop.
“Taylor,” a voice says from behind me. My stomach dips knowing it’s Seb. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turn around. “Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hey,” I whisper, unable to stop my gaze from tracking all over him. He looks good. Too good. He’s wearing black jeans that are pushed into lace-up boots and a dark green t-shirt stretches tight across his chest, his inked arms bulging from the sleeves. There’s dark stubble on his jaw, and his hair is styled to look messy. My heart squeezes in my chest when my eyes finally find his, and I wish it didn’t hurt so much to be this close to him.
“How’ve you been?”
I shrug slightly and lower my eyes. “I’ve been all right. You?”
