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“Fuck,” he says in response.
“Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?” I giggle in embarrassment, but he’s incredibly too serious for the situation.
“Both. Mostly bad.”
His hand rises to the back of his neck and rubs it rather violently. Not exactly the reaction you want after an incredible kiss that still has your heart racing and toes curling.
Will opens my door and escorts me—nay, shoves me—into my car. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?”
After a kiss like that, I don’t think I’m good enough to walk home, but I’ll do so anyway because staying here is clearly out of the question. A girl knows when she’s not wanted.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Will closes my door. His hands are still on the roof of my car as he peers inside the glass and continues to stare at me with a severely pinched brow as he swallows hard. I stare back at him. It’s impossible not to when he looks so pained.
Fuck, he says silently.
I can’t hear him through the closed door, but I see his lips move. That’s probably the one word in the English language you can hear, even without a sound.
When he finally moves from the car, I start the engine. Driving away, I try to keep my eyes on the road and not in the rearview mirror and the lone man standing in the parking lot of Lone Tavern, watching this lone girl go home to her lone bed with her lone thoughts of the lone kiss that just made her and crushed her in the same instant.
five
I ARRIVE AT MOUNTAINView Bistro, early for my brunch with Allison Lalayne, a prospective bride who has canceled on us thrice.
One time was in advance. It was the day before we were set to meet. She said her fiancé didn’t think they needed help designing the wedding. We exchanged pleasantries with Jillian wishing her congratulations, and we parted ways.
It was a surprise when Allison called a few weeks later and asked to set up another meeting. I was sitting in Beans and Leaves, a coffee shop in town, waiting for her, when she called and said her fiancé was busy at work and asked to reschedule.
Yesterday was the third time. Not wanting to take any more time out of our schedule, Jillian and I told her she could swing by the wedding venue as we were setting up and discuss options for her own event while we showcased what we could do. She called ten minutes before she was set to arrive and asked to reschedule.
I was concerned she didn’t really want a designer for her wedding because brides typically don’t cancel twice, let alone three times. So, when she called to reschedule, I declined, but she pleaded, stating my style was exactly what she wants for her event and promised she wouldn’t cancel this time. She offered to meet at Mountain View Bistro for brunch, and I caved because I love brunch. If she cancels, I’m staying for the food and sending her the bill.
To my surprise, Allison arrives on time.
She’s a sweet-looking thing with long brown hair and big eyes. She has on a floral dress, paired with a simple heart necklace.
“I’m so excited we are meeting today. I want to have my bridal shower here because the food is amazing and the view is so pretty,” she gushes as she takes her seat at the finely set table.
The restaurant sits atop a hill on the far edge of Valor County, overlooking the fall foliage. It’s a decent drive from my house, about forty-five minutes, but lovely and worth traveling to.
“I think your guests will love it. Is your family hosting your shower?” I ask as I look at the menu.
They have crab and avocado eggs Benedict with maple syrup bacon. My mouth savors just thinking about it.
“My mother is throwing me asurpriseshower—wink-wink. I think she’s more excited than me for this wedding. She gave me my grandmother’s ring when I got engaged. I can’t get over how perfect it fits! Totally meant to be.”
I look at the solitaire diamond on a gold band. It’s elegant. Understated yet exquisite. “A family heirloom is better than any Harry Winston or Tiffany solitaire out there. The sentimental value alone is priceless. You’re very fortunate.”
She beams, stretching out her hand and appraising the ring. “I’m thinking about resetting it.”
“There’s something special about knowing this exact band sat on your grandmother’s hand. If it were me, I wouldn’t. It’s perfect just as it is. Think about getting an elaborate wedding ring.”
“I love that idea. This is exactly why I want to work with Lavish Events!”
My chin falls into my palm as I gaze at her. She’s adorable and sweet. This is the kind of girl I adore planning weddings for. Hopeful, starry-eyed, and I’m sure wildly in love with her beau.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” the waiter asks when he approaches our table. “Mimosas and Bloody Marys are included with the menu today.”
