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“What do you think about adding some taper candles in glass hurricanes to your tables?” I ask.
“For sure,” Marianne agrees. “There’s actually a great little shop here on the island that might have some if our rental company doesn’t. I’ll make a note of it.”
I gesture to the area where the tables will be. “They’d look so pretty with the flowers. And now that I’m out here, I’m realizing how gorgeous some candlelight will look when it gets dark.”
Goldie claps. “Love it. So far I’m thrilled. Thank you, guys, sincerely. I know this is all so last minute, so I was kind of hoping for the best but expecting the worst in terms of doing anything extra. But y’all are coming through, and that means a lot to me. Now we just have to pray for decent weather.”
My heart skips a beat at how lit up she is. I wrap her in a hug. “Just because you had premarital sex doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the wedding of your dreams.”
“It was only once, I swear.” Goldie gives me a sly smile as she pulls back. “But I’m grateful this is all coming together.”
Marianne closes her notebook. “Y’all lucked out. We rarely get cancellations, least of all on a holiday weekend. Did you have any trouble booking other venues or activities? Because the island is going to be packed.”
Goldie smiles. “Not really. Lucky for us, Coop knows a guy, and that guy pulled some major strings to make this week happen. He’s actually Cooper’s best man—”
“Y’all talkin’ shit about me again?”
We glance up in unison at the handsome man in khakis and a button-up who appears in a nearby doorway.
Goldie and I still laugh like schoolgirls whenever Cooper Easton walks into the room, and today is no exception. There’s a reason I call him George Clooney’s illegitimate son. He’s got a wickedly handsome smile, a head of thick, dark hair, and charisma for days.
No surprise it was love at first sight for Goldie. I was there the night they met a little less than a year ago, and I remember clear as day her curling an arm around my neck and pulling me in to whisper, “I’m gonna marry that sexy bastard.”
Said bastard strides onto the terrace like he owns it, taking his hands out of his pockets to cradle Goldie’s face and plant a kiss on her mouth.
I realize a beat too late I’m part of the collective sigh the entire club releases at seeing these two gorgeous human beings lock lips.
Goldie wraps her arms around Cooper’s waist. “You shouldn’t make it so easy.”
“You shouldn’t be so lovely.” He buries his head in her neck. “How’re you feeling?”
“Same as I was last time you asked me an hour ago. Just fine.”
“Just fine? I don’t like the sound of that. What can I do to make you feel better than fine?”
“I have some ideas.”
“Are they naughty?”
“Do you know me?”
“Better than anyone.”
I let out a chuckle, even as I feel a slice of . . . jealousy isn’t the right word. Neither is regret. Remorse, maybe? Longing?
I want what they have. The whole wedding rigamarole aside, I know how crazy my best friend and her fiancé are about each other. Coop would go to the ends of the earth to make Goldie happy. And she is happy. Anyone can see that in her smile, in the way she looks at him.
Being in love that way, being loved, is the best feeling ever.
When was the last time I felt that way with Patrick?
I shove that thought aside. I have too much to do this week to indulge in any extra existential angst. All I know is that I miss being in love. Even if I want to stay far, far away from that word for a long, long time.
“I could actually use a water,” Goldie says.
“DR’s got you one. DR!” Cooper calls. “He was just settling up our bill inside—ah, there he is!”
I glance up at the same door Cooper walked through. If memory serves, it leads right into the little bar/waiting area at the front of the clubhouse. It’s open again, only this time a blond handsome man walks through it.
One with blue eyes. Broad shoulders. And a wide, white smile that ties my heart in a painful knot.
My stomach heaves. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Goldie’s head snaps in my direction. “Louise, are you okay?”
I don’t know how to answer that. Riley is completely transformed from the casual restaurant owner in shorts and sneakers. He looks fucking good in a crisp white button-up and khakis, and the confident way he moves—tucking one hand into his pocket, holding out a frosty bottle of water to Goldie with the other—sends my pulse skidding.
“Fine?” I swallow the bile in my throat. “Totally fine.”
Maybe this is a mix-up. Maybe Riley is, I don’t know, a random guy Cooper ran into inside?
