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She tipped her head and her ponytail slid over her shoulder. “Sure about that?”
“I really don’t.” I dried my hands.
“Didn’t have anything to do with that bridal party?”
I tugged out my messy bun, redoing it so my hair was on top of my head and off my neck. “Our mothers are…friendly.”
My mother didn’t actually have real friendships. Just power plays.
“So what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I’m a failure—again.”
Bells turned me to look at her, her hands gripping my upper arms. “Okay, first of all, no talk like that around me. You’re obviously not a failure.”
“From my mother’s point of view, I’ve just screwed up again. First Clay, then Reid. And now I’m hiding out at an orchard. So maybe Beckett was right.”
“I’m not sure who the first two dudes are, but you know, your life is about more than just getting the right guy, right?”
My eyes burned. “You’re right. I am worth more than just what a man can do for me.” I sniffed. “I’ve forgotten that over the years.”
“Getting a good dicking is all good and fun, but they aren’t allowed to treat you like shit. Period.”
The laugh burst out of me, surprising both of us.
“Was the dicking part too much?”
“Maybe. But you’re not wrong. Good sex isn’t everything.” My neck and cheeks flushed. “But it really was good.” Part of me hated thinking that it was the end of us. Not likethis.“And I don’t know why he is being an asshole.”
“He’s probably scared. It’s usually when they get grouchy or pull a stupid stunt.”
“He really did. But again, here I am just whining over a man. You’d think I’d learn by now.”
“It’s the good dicking part. Messes us all up. Especially when the orgasms make us forget anything else matters. And then the guy talks and ruins the bliss.”
Beckett wasn’t like that. Or he hadn’t been until just now.
“You’re not wrong.”
“Now I’m officially jealous.” Bells laughed and pushed me out the door. “C’mon. Let’s get some food and then maybe we’ll do some retail therapy.”
“I could go for some of that.” I tugged at my hair. “Maybe we could go somewhere to do something crazy with my hair.”
“Oh, now we’re talking. Makeovers are my very favorite thing.”
“Think we could stop at my room so I can change?”
“Even better idea.”
We snuck back down the hall and took the elevator to the third floor. Quickly, I changed into one of the sundresses we’d picked up at Vintage December. Feeling a bit more put together helped even me out the rest of the way.
The trip to the Brothers Three Taproom was quick, especially with Bells’ driving. We discussed the things we’d checked off our list for the party and things that still needed to be covered. Namely the main dish which was giving me some mild anxiety.
Finding someone to make that kind of food at the last minute was going to be tricky.
Annette was behind the bar when we walked in. The chairs and tables were stacked in the corner and a monstrous buffer was sitting in the middle of the floor. Annette was angrily flipping pages in what looked like a manual.
“What’s going on?” I hopped up on a chair at the bar.
