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Though Sasha appeared calm and collected, I could see the skin of her upper cheek twitching with annoyance. “We’ve been over this. If we can’t decide on colors, then—”
“Then, we’ll have Nina pick the colors.”’
Nina bobbed her head while lifting her coffee. A triumphant smirk sat on her lips that was hidden soon enough by the ceramic mug. “Surely that would be best for everyone involved.”
“No, Nina isn’t getting control of my wedding,” Sasha argued. “Donovan wants neutral to cool colors. That’s the best route.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes while twirling a knife in her fingers. “Black and red are so much better. Right, Henry?”
“Dad always says to stay out of the coop when the chickens are pecking each other.”
Charlotte glared at Adam who shoved a burrito into his mouth so fast that bits of bacon spilled everywhere. As he tried to reason with Charlotte with his hands, Sasha and Nina started getting into a debate about the location of the wedding and why the ranch was a bad idea.
I glanced at Rose. “What do you think?”
“About?”
“All this.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care where it happens. I just want to see my soul sisters happy.”
“And what about you?”
“Me?” She grinned. “I don’t know. I’m happy where I am right now.”
But she wasn’t happy. Not entirely. Her contentment reached a peak this morning just before we came down for breakfast. She was anticipating something—and that anticipation had practically tripled at the mention of weddings.
I glanced at the ring in my lap. It reminded me of my mother, how she would look at my father with the warmest of expressions. Rose looked at me that way.
“What about you?” Rose asked, pulling me back into the present. “Are you happy?”
“I think I could be happier.”
She smiled uneasily. “Is it your cabin? Can it be repaired?”
I hummed thoughtfully. “Well, it could be repaired, but I don’t know if I want to bother with it anymore.”
Her eyes brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, it might be time to move on to something else.”
“Well, if it’s destroyed beyond repair and you don’t want it anymore…” She trailed off, nipping her lower lip as she rubbed her fingers over the mark on her neck. “Well, there’s always a place for you here. You seem to like the Orchid Suite.”
I cringed. “It’s kind of small.”
“A bigger suite. Higher up? Something near the garden room?”
“How do you know I like the garden room?”
She grinned shyly. “You smell like the ferns we keep in there.”
“Ah, I didn’t realize they rubbed off on me.”
“You mean you rub off on them, too.”
I squinted playfully at her. “Are you smelling the ferns?”
“Well, no. I just—”
