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“I did,” Everly said with a broad smile. “I think I like it better than the original one I had picked out.”
Austin was already heading toward his bride-to-be, and Steph watched as he pulled her close and kissed her.
Everly drew back, smiling. “About done with the gazebo? We should pick up Jessica from her friend’s.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said. “Jessica asked to sleep over, so it’s just us tonight.”
They shared another smile, and Steph had to look away. The next scene wasn’t much better because Brandy was glued to Ian, laughing at something he was talking about.
Jorge had grabbed a drink, and Lydia stood close to him, her hand on his arm.
In this backyard, Steph was surrounded by sappiness. Well, love, and friends … but sappy all the same. There was only one thing left to do. She crossed to where Cal had straightened from his painting. The gazebo gleamed white against the background of trees bursting with red, orange, and yellow autumn leaves.
He was the best view of all, though. He wasn’t wearing the jacket he’d arrived in. His gray fitted T-shirt had a few paint splotches on it. His dark hair had some paint flecks, and there was a smudge of white paint on his collarbone. In short, he looked like a man who’d put in a hard day’s work, but was happy about it.
“Looks like you’ve had a busy day,” she said, keeping her voice casual. “Pops keeping you all in line?”
Cal smiled. “Something like that. Hey, sorry I didn’t let you know—things happened kind of fast.”
Steph waved a hand as if that was all it took to make up for her hours of persistent worry. “It’s fine. Everly told us what was going on. I only hoped Pops could make it through the day all right.”
Cal glanced over at the man, who was entertaining Jorge with some story. “He’s been fine. I offered to take him home for a break a couple different times, but he kept refusing.”
“Not surprised.” She reached for the paintbrush Cal held and stepped closer to the gazebo.
“Aren’t you worried about your dress?” he asked, folding his arms.
“It’s only a couple of touch-ups.”
Cal watched her for a moment, then said, “Everything went all right?”
“Yeah,” Steph answered.
“But …?”
She looked over to see his brown eyes steady on hers. How did he know? Somehow he always knew when she was holding something back. “Watching someone try on dresses for three hours isn’t really my thing. I’m more of an in-and-out shopper. Or online, I guess. If I like it and it’s on a good sale, I grab it. Then leave.”
Cal’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “I think a three-hour fitting would drive me nuts, too.”
“I’ve already decided that if I ever get married, I’ll just borrow Everly’s dress. It’s very pretty, and we’re about the same size.”
His brows tugged together. “You’re not the same size.”
Steph blinked. “What are you talking about? We’re both the same height and not too skinny.”
“Uh …” Cal’s gaze moved over her. Down to her feet, then up again.
She willed her face not to turn red. “Are you checking me out?”
“I am,” he said in a low voice. “But only to verify that you could not wear Everly’s wedding dress.”
Steph handed back the paintbrush. “Because I’m fatter than her?”
He didn’t even flinch. “Because you’re curvier, and classier. Different types and styles.”
She stared at him for a moment. “What are you? Some sort of fashion expert?”
“Not at all.” He had the good sense to flush a little, but his gaze remained steady. “I just know what you look like compared to other women.” He moved closer, invading most of her space.
