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TATUM: Tomorrow! When everything is going to be coming up roses. I just know it!
Chapter Fifteen
BARRETT
This is going to work. It has to.
Drew’s hypothetical brought home just how important tonight is in a visceral way.
I’m not going to Wren’s wedding. Not ever.
Not unless I’m the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
I have a plan, a back-up plan, and emergency protocols in place. And since we’re going out in a new city, we won’t run into anyone we know from home. The other nurses and their partners are planning to stick close to the bed-and-breakfast, tour the working farm and 150-acre property with the owners of the retreat center, or head back to the conference building for the free movie night. Wren and I will be able to focus on each other and the do-over without worrying what anyone else thinks about us being out on a date.
In Bad Dog, you can’t walk half a city block without tripping over one of my siblings, cousins, or close family friends. And Wren has her friends, Starling, and her mother, who comes into town at least a few times a week.
But here in Excelsior, we can be two anonymous people.
An anonymous couple…
The thought makes my gaze shift sharply to the back door of the bed-and-breakfast.
Still no sign of Wren.
At this rate, if I’ve worn the wrong thing, I won’t have time to run back to the room and change or we’ll be late for our dinner reservation. I’m beginning to second-guess changing while she was still at the conference center—maybe I should have asked her what to wear, instead of pretending I have anything close to fashion sense—when she steps through the door, and I forget how to breathe.
Her long hair is loose around her shoulders, hanging in glossy waves nearly to hear waist. She’s wearing black, knee-high boots, a tight green dress that skims her curves, and long, sparkly earrings that catch the evening light and bring out the gold flecks in her green eyes.
She looks beautiful and so sexy I can’t believe I ever thought of her as a wallflower. She’s not a wallflower. She’s the main event, center stage, no spotlight needed because why would anyone want to look at anything but her?
“Hey,” she says, exhaling a rush of breath as she crosses the empty back parking lot. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I couldn’t decide what to wear. I didn’t pack any going out clothes. This was the closest I could get.”
“It’s perfect,” I say. “You look…perfect.”
Her lips twitch into a quick smile that vanishes almost instantly. “No, you look perfect. Black button up and dark blue jeans is perfect.” She runs a nervous hand down her waist to her hip, making me ache to do the same. “This is too dressy. I should change. Give me five minutes, I promise I won’t make us late.”
She starts to back away, but I reach out and take her hand, holding tight. “No.”
She blinks up at me. “No?”
“No.” I pull her slowly closer, closer, until she’s in my arms and everything is right with the world. “You know how I feel about honesty.”
“It’s basically your religion,” she says, her lips parted as she tips her chin up, holding my gaze.
I incline my head. “So, when I say you look perfect, I mean it.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Okay. Then I guess I’ll believe you.”
“Good,” I say, nodding toward the truck. “Shall we? Our dinner reservation is in ten minutes.”
She nods and her lips curve. “Sure. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I say, twining my fingers through hers as we cross the parking lot. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll like it. It’s one of your favorite kind of foods.”
She arches a brow. “Yeah? Did you ask Tatum about my favorite kinds of food?”
“No, I spent three months stalking your social media, educating myself on all the things I missed.”
Her expression softens and her eyes begin to shine. “Really?”
“I hope that’s not creepy.” I stop beside the passenger’s door, really hoping I haven’t fucked this up before we even get off the property. But I was being honest, like Starling said. Maybe I just need to add more kindness. “I just wanted to make things right with you, to give you the attention you’ve always deserved. I wasn’t trying to be intrusive.”
She shakes her head with a little sniff. “No, it’s… That’s… That’s good to know. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
“Never,” I promise, meaning it more than I’ve meant anything in a long time. “No matter what.”
She pulls in a breath and nods. “Okay. Then let’s go. Hopefully my social media feed hasn’t led you astray.”
Eight minutes later, we pull up to a tiny Italian restaurant with a red awning and an outdoor garden filled with tables at the end of Excelsior’s Main Street. Wren claps, sending joy and relief surging through my bloodstream. “Oh, it’s so cute! And Northern Italian is my favorite.” She leans over, pressing a kiss to my cheek before she whispers, “You done good, mister.”
