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Cheers go up when they’re finally allowed to kiss, and my own cheeks heat at the way Kalen dips her back and ravishes her mouth like there aren’t a hundred people watching it happen. They’re in their own world, and good for them.
“Do you think…” I begin watching the newlyweds walk down the aisle and get chauffeured away in the back of an SUV.
“That they’re going to have some—” he clears his throat suggestively. “Alone time? Yes. I want the same on our wedding day.”
I stumble over my own damn feet.
We talk about the future all the time, but this is the first time he’s flat out said we’re going to eventually marry.
“Is this her?” a smiling man asks as he walks up to us.
“Devyn, this is Walker Conroy. He owns The Hairy Frog.”
Walker takes my hand and attempts to lift it to his mouth, but Emmett’s growl has him releasing me with a chuckle instead.
“This sad sap,” he says conspiratorially, hitching his thumb at Emmett. “Sat on the barstool last night and pouted like a sad dog because he was afraid McKenna hired strippers.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing.
Emmett doesn’t deny it, however.
“I told him I’d have to look for you today to see the woman who had such a big guy all tangled up.” He gives me a comical once-over, clearly not really checking me out. “Now I know what all the fuss is about.”
I lean in closer to Emmett, pressing my hand to his stomach.
“Is this her?” Another man walks up, pulling a murmured curse from Emmett.
“Cash Tucker,” the guy says, also holding his hand out. “I work for the Lindell Police Department.”
“He’s one of the only three cops in the department, a regular old Barney Fife,” Emmett mutters, clearly annoyed that his behavior last night is being called out.
“Who?” I say.
Emmett looks to the sky as if he isn’t surprised I don’t understand the reference.
We chat for a little longer, and eventually Cash and Walker give up on trying to make Emmett feel bad for being worried about how I was spending my night last night. They chat about athletes and how many of the players people watch on television these days originated from Lindell University.
I’m familiar with some of the references, but not all. I’ve never paid much attention to any kind of sport. I’ve always been too busy sewing and finding other creative projects to work on.
When those guys split off, we start to mingle, and I notice when Mr. and Mrs. Alexander arrive back at the park. McKenna has changed into a different dress, one that’s going to be much less cumbersome to walk around in on the grass. The day has ended up beautiful, the sun shining, but the chill of fall cooling it down enough that no one seems uncomfortable. It was a gamble for them to have an outdoor wedding this time of year, but it looks like it worked out for the happy couple.
Everyone is smiling and waiting patiently to congratulate the newlyweds. I imagine this is what perfection looks like. Kids are running around playing and having a good time. People are in small clusters catching up and sharing stories.
“I’m going to find something to drink,” I tell Emmett just as he’s starting a conversation about some first-class draft pick of something or other. I’m head over heels for the guy, but I’d never be able to stay awake if I stick around any longer.
“Want me to come with you?”
“No, no,” I rush out quickly. “I’ll be fine.”
He shakes his head, that smile I’ve grown so used to seeing every day wide across his mouth.
“Hurry back,” he urges before turning his head to argue with Walker about why a team in some league is better than the one the other guy picked.
I don’t know how Emmett has had time to keep up with any sports recently. We’ve spent nearly every waking hour together the last couple of weeks. If I’m in my sewing room, he’s always close by with an offer to help where he can. We have meals together, and by the time the sun sets each day, we’re locked in his room and incapable of keeping our hands off each other.
“That is the smile of a woman in love.”
It slides from my face the second Oracle says it.
“Is it that obvious?”
He tilts his head in confusion at my question.
“I don’t want to scare him off,” I mutter, feeling suddenly awkward and unsure of what to do with my hands.
“Scare him off?” Oracle snorts, the sound obnoxious and grating. “The man is head over heels for you. Anyone can see it.”
My eyes scan the immediate area concerned Emmett might’ve finished his conversation and headed this way.
“What happened with you and that woman Beth?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. “Some of the girls were saying they heard you disappeared with her last night. They also said she’s a little crazy and was probably planning your wedding before she got home last night.”
