“Woman, I did not cheat on you.”
“All right, Ash,” I said, unable to hide my amusement from my voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” She ended the call.
Tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, Dane lifted a brow. “You have interesting friends.”
“I do,” I agreed, putting my phone on the dresser.
“Chris just called me. He and Miley are stuck in traffic, so they’ll be a little late getting here.”
I was looking forward to their arrival, since they were bringing my dress with them. It was hard to believe that Dane and I would be having our reception in exactly a week’s time. The months had flown by. It didn’t feel like that long ago that he and I stood in front of a burping Elvis in the chapel.
“Well, I’m almost done here,” I told him.
“I can see that.” He sank deeper into the chair, as if settling in to watch a show.
“You’re going to sit here and watch me get ready?”
He just shrugged.
I gave my head a little shake. “All right.”
His eyes followed the movements of my hands as I smoothed lotion into my skin. I thought he’d cheekily offer to give me some help with it, but he remained in his seat, seemingly content to just watch.
We hadn’t spoken again of the revelations he’d made about his father a few days ago. He’d been a little different since then. Not bad different. But … pensive. Distracted. Quieter than usual.
I’d sometimes catch him staring into space, lost in his thoughts. Other times, I’d catch him staring at me, his expression so blank it made my skin prickle. If I asked what was wrong, he’d merely shrug and blow off my question.
I wondered if he regretted telling me about his childhood. Dane was very self-contained and wouldn’t like to feel exposed. Having someone know your darkest, most painful secrets could indeed make a person feel stripped bare.
He didn’t even like to have people in his bedroom, let alone inside his head, and fuck if I didn’t hate his father for that. Your bedroom should be a place where you felt safe and secure and perfectly at ease.
It was humbling that he felt relaxed enough around me to sleep beside me at night. It demonstrated an element of trust. Although I’d still often wake to find him working in the chair he was now comfortably lounging in, I never commented on it.
Right then, his eyes never left me as I dressed, dabbed on some makeup, and slipped on my earrings. “Don’t,” he said when I went to tie back my hair. “Wear it down for me.”
As we weren’t going anywhere, I relented and dropped the hair tie back into the drawer.
He pushed out of the chair, grabbed my rings from the nightstand, and slid them both onto the third finger of my left hand. He’d done it a few times over the last few weeks. I’d never had to return the favor, because I hadn’t yet seen him without his wedding band.
He tugged on my hand. “Breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” I agreed as he guided me out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“As if there was any doubt,” I said. “I’m in the mood for French toast this morning. Want some?”
“Sure.”
We each ate French toast and drank coffee as we alternated between talking and checking the seemingly endless number of notifications on our cell phones.
It had been a fairly uneventful few days. Thanksgiving dinner at my foster parents’ house had gone well. As I feared, there’d been a little tension between them and Dane, but he hadn’t seemed whatsoever effected by it. He’d talked mainly with my father, who’d constantly tried to engage him in conversation … as if he’d hoped to distract Dane from the tension.
I hadn’t commented on it, because it would be unfair of me to expect them to shove aside all their concerns when—in truth—they were right to be concerned. They hadn’t once mentioned Travis or the trust fund, so they seemed to be respecting my wish for them to just let me be.
Heather thankfully hadn’t made an appearance on Thanksgiving while we were present. She’d dropped Junior off at her parents’ house long before we arrived, and he was still there when we left.
After Dane and I finished our breakfast, I cleaned the counter and island while he stacked the dishwasher. He’d no sooner switched on the machine than the buzzer sounded.
“You make the coffees,” said Dane, his half-full cup in hand. “I’ll take Miley and Chris into the formal sitting room.”
“All right.” Remembering how the planners took their coffees, I prepared the drinks and made myself a fresh cup. Once I’d placed all the mugs on a tray, I carried it into the formal sitting room and then set it on the coffee table while saying my hellos.
“We brought your gown,” announced Miley.
I smiled. “So I see.” You couldn’t exactly miss the big, bulging dress bag. “Thank you.”
As usual, all four of us settled on the sofas. Dane interlinked our fingers and rested our joined hands on his thigh.
Glancing down at her tablet, Miley said, “We touched base with everyone—the photographer, the florist, the vendor, the band, the cake baker, and the lighting technician. All the details have been confirmed; everyone knows where they’re supposed to be and when.”
Chris handed us a sheet of paper. “We’ve finalized the seating arrangement. If you’re happy with it, we’ll send it to the necessary people. I was impressed that none of the guests missed the RSVP deadlines—there are usually a few we have to chase up. You should be flattered that no one wants to miss it.”
I scanned the seating arrangement and nodded, happy with what I saw. The guests were mostly family, o-Verve employees, and Dane’s closest associates.
“The arrangement is fine,” said Dane, his thumb brushing the top of my hand.
“Excellent.” Chris tucked the sheet of paper away. “Don’t forget you have your hair and makeup trial on Wednesday, Vienna. Now that you have your gown, you need to try on the full ensemble one more time just to be sure you’re fully happy with it. Did you break in your new footwear?”
I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. “But I’ll take blister plasters to the reception with me in case I need them.”
“Good. Did you pack an overnight bag for your reception so I can have it delivered to the hotel for you?” asked Chris.
“Yes, it’s in my room. I also prepped the box you asked for with the cake knife, guest book, and all that stuff so that you can send it to the venue.”
Chris grinned and lifted his mug. “I love it when my clients listen to me. This is good for you, too. The more things you’ve checked off the to-do-list, the less stressed you’ll be.”
I’d actually felt remarkably unstressed about it up until now, since the planners were taking care of everything for us and the reception had always seemed so far off into the future. Now that I had only a week left to go until the event, my stomach gave the odd flutter whenever I even thought about it.
“The guest packages will arrive at the hotel the day before the reception and they’ll be delivered straight to the rooms of your guests,” said Miley.