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I couldn’t let go of this feeling. It was a fullness inside every part of me that I only felt when I was with her.
“At least wait until after the wedding to give Keller an answer,” I said. “I know we didn’t solve anything tonight, but I think the more time you spend thinking about working for him, the more likely you are to realize it’s the wrong decision.”
“You mean to chicken out?” She laughed lightly.
“Don’t think of it like you only have two options. You’re an incredible chef.”
“In a very small town,” she countered.
“Promise me you’ll wait until after the wedding.”
“Promise.”
Grady and Avon were tying the knot this weekend. That gave me a few days to think about things, too.
Though it was hard to think about anything but kissing Shea when she was directly across from me. And, of course, the occasional thought of knocking out Keller fucking Strauss.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shea
“Is my lipstick okay?” Avon turned to me with a questioning look.
It hit me in that moment. I’d seen her beautiful finished updo earlier and I’d helped her put on her beaded white gown with a halter neckline. When a makeup artist was applying her makeup, I was in the chair next to hers, getting my own makeup done.
But seeing it all come together like this—knowing that this woman I already loved, like a sister, was about to be my brother’s wife—made me teary-eyed.
“You promised!” she said with a smile, waving a hand at her eyes. “No crying because then I’ll cry and I don’t want my makeup ruined.”
“Sorry,” I said, looking away from her and getting myself together. “You’re right. Lipstick is good.”
Poor Bess had burst into tears the moment she saw Avon in the dress, and she’d left the room several times so Avon wouldn’t see her crying. It was understandable, though. This was a joyful day, but Avon’s parents hadn’t lived to see it. Her Uncle Don was walking her down the aisle.
If Avon’s Uncle Pete hadn’t passed away unexpectedly and left her the Sven’s Beard Chronicle, none of us would be here right now. Grady and Avon never would have met. I couldn’t imagine my brother with anyone else. He and Avon were a perfect match.
“Bridesmaids, assemble,” the wedding planner Sean said.
My heart pounded as I took my place in line and Sean passed me a small bouquet of calla lilies. Someone brought Bess into the room, guiding her to her spot while she kept her head down.
It was funny. Bess was such a no-nonsense person, but she’d formed a bond with Avon. Avon had lost her parents, but she had a family again. Some of us related to her, and some of us did not. Family was more than just blood.
“I need new tissues,” Bess said.
Sean passed her a fresh batch, which she wrapped around the stems of her bouquet. She looked straight ahead, not chancing a glance at Avon as Don walked into the room.
“You ladies look beautiful,” he said to the row of bridesmaids.
Avon chose simple sage-green dresses, letting everyone choose their own style. Mine was sleeveless with a long skirt, which had seemed like a good idea before my worries about tripping over the skirt on the way down the aisle had crept in.
“Absolutely stunning,” Don said to Avon, kissing her on the cheek.
“Okay, ladies, it’s time,” Sean said. “Remember, glide down the aisle. No stomping. And go slowly. It’s a wedding, not a relay race.”
The wedding was on the lawn of The Sleepy Moose, which was the most beautiful spot in the Beard. We had to make a long walk from the room we’d gotten ready in, and I teared up again when I rounded a corner and saw guests on either side of the aisle, my brother beaming at the end as he waited for his bride.
Grady stood in front of an archway covered in brightly colored flowers, his groomsmen beside him. My gaze slid to Holt and I inhaled sharply when I saw him.
He cleaned up very well, his tux perfectly fitted to him. But it was the way he was looking at me that made it hard to concentrate on slowly gliding. His eyes held reverence and hope.
