“I was thinking a billboard, or at least a sandwich board.”
I chuckled. “Seriously though—we’ll have to tell my mom at some point, and she’s going to insert herself directly into everything we do. She’s going to ask you questions you don’t want to answer, like what kind of birth control you’re on and if there’s any history of heart disease in your family. Maybe your ring size and which cut diamond you prefer.”
When she laughed, the flush on her cheeks was almost as deep as her hair. “God, I didn’t even think about your mom. I didn’t think you’d ever want anyone to know about us.”
My smile faded. “Tess, if taking out a billboard wasn’t outrageous and inappropriate, I’d fucking do it. This has never been temporary for me.”
Her face softened. “I thought all you wanted was temporary.”
“And I thought you weren’t interested in temporary. I walked into it with the intent to date the hell out of you, Tess Monroe.”
She shook her head in wonder. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Make me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”
My hand cupped her jaw, my eyes holding hers still. “Because you are.”
And I kissed her to prove it.
15
Things the Cat Drags In
TESS
“I told you he was your boyfriend,” Ivy said with smug certainty.
I laughed, the sound unburdened, just like me. Light as a feather and floating through the breeze, free as could be, despite my exhaustion. It had taken us all night to get the installation done, no thanks to Luke’s lips and hands and that body.
“You were right, and I was wrong,” I said pointedly.
She pressed her hand to her chest, smiling. “It’s more common than I get credit for. Are you going to tell Mrs. Bennet?”
My nose wrinkled. “We’re gonna wait a bit. Just … get settled, make sure we’re stable before she jumps in with wedding invitation samples or something.”
“I’d say she’d scare Luke off, but somehow, I don’t think it’s him who’d get cold feet.”
I gave her a look. “Can you blame me? I don’t do anything fast.”
“No, you don’t. And when Mrs. Bennet gets word that her favorite person on the planet who’s not related to her is dating her son, she’s absolutely going to start planning your wedding. I give it two hours.”
“God,” I said on a laugh. “Maybe we should keep it from her until we’re engaged.”
Ivy gave me a look.
“What?”
“You said until. Until you’re engaged.”
My cheeks flamed. “I was kidding, Ivy.”
“I’m just saying, Tess. I think somewhere in your rational little mind lies a gooey romantic who knows you two are well-matched.”
“We are well-matched. That doesn’t mean we’re getting married, you weirdo.”
She gave me another look, this one telling me she knew better. “You remind me of me and Dean. You just…click, you know? And everyone around you can see it.” A wistful smile slipped out of her, her hand absently moving to her belly. “It’s your own kind of magic, and I’m so happy you found it. I swear, the electricity flickers when you’re in the same room. How Mrs. Bennet hasn’t already guessed is beyond me.”
“She’s too busy fussing over having her kids home to be paying attention. Anyway, when she’s down here, Luke and I aren’t usually in the room at the same time.”
“By design?”
“A little, but also because we’re just too busy.”
Ivy snorted a laugh. “You act like I didn’t catch him feeling you up in storage yesterday.”
I shrugged. “You know what they say—a grope a day keeps the single away.”
“No one says that,” she said around a giggle just as the bell on the counter rang for a second time in thirty seconds.
I frowned, glancing behind me. “Where the hell is Jett?”
“I don’t know. He went back to the greenhouse a minute ago. Luke’s on a delivery.”
I wiped my hands on my apron. “I know where Luke is.”
“Oh, I’m sure. It’ll become your sixth sense, knowing how far away he is at any given moment. Because you’re gonna get maaaaarried,” she sang, giving me a display of jazz hands for effect.
I rolled my eyes, smiling as I walked toward the front.
The shop was so busy, I found myself surprised Jett had gotten away for so long without the bell ringing.
In the wee hours of the morning—after a too-short nap in the hay—we’d unveiled the new installation to a small crowd, coffees in hand as they waited on the sidewalk. Every week was a little bigger, a little grander, and today was no exception.
It was a surprise to us all. But nowhere near as surprising as who I found on the other side of the counter.
Wendy Westham had always been beautiful, and time had not changed that. In fact, I thought time had made her more beautiful. The roundness of youth had been erased from her face, leaving high cheekbones and a perfectly shaped jaw. Her eyes were more confident than I remembered, more grounded, though still bright with that spark of mischief I so often saw in Luke’s. Those eyes were nearly the same color as his, a deep, shocking blue.
If their marriage had yielded a baby, that baby would have had those eyes, clever and ocean deep.
Pain split my ribs as a smile split my face. “Wendy!” I cheered, the sound too light to be genuine. “What … what are you doing here?”
She smiled a smile that belonged on a magazine cover, a smile as perfect and practiced as it was charming and true. “Tess, right? God, it’s good to see you. The shop looks incredible. I heard you did the windows, is that true? Because you could get a job in LA like that.” She snapped her fingers.
I laughed, wooden and stiff. “I did, thank you. So … can I help you?”
“Oh!” she said on a laugh, adjusting her handbag, which was hooked in the crook of her arm and cost more than a month’s rent on Fifth. “I was looking for Luke. Is he here?”
I swallowed the stone in my throat. “You just missed him. He’s on a delivery.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Do you mind if I wait for him? I’ve been back in New York for a minute, but I haven’t had a chance to see him yet.”
With a nod—seriously, what else could I do?—I said, “Yes, of course, though I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
She waved a hand, stepping around the counter to head to the back before I could object. She wore a dress, simple and bohemian in design but colored with little details—a tie here, a ruffle there, clever design that made it feel almost couture. Her beauty was as blinding as it was understated. She didn’t have to try. She just was.
I didn’t know Wendy well—she and Luke had met well after we graduated, and they’d only dated for forty-two seconds before running off to get married. But they’d been a singular unit, inseparable from the second they met. Whenever Luke had come by the shop, Wendy had been at his side. She’d never been unkind to me, though everyone painted her to be a succubus. Everyone just loved Luke too much to accept anything but five-star treatment of him. Anything less was blasphemy.