The next morning brought sunlight streaming into the spare bedroom of Ben’s childhood home and muffled chatter from downstairs. Ryan rolled over, right into Ben. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was bored.”

“So you decided to climb into bed with me? I really don’t think we need to give your mom any reasons to dislike me.”

“Stop worrying. I already saw her this morning. She knows I didn’t sleep in here.”

“What time is it?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

She rocked her body into him in a sort of full-body smack. “So look.”

Arm tightening around her, Ben gently rubbed his facial hair against her face. “Moving against me like that is not the way to get me to care about the time.”

Ryan giggled. “You’re such a perv.”

Ben sighed and gave her a small kiss at her temple before rolling onto his back and reaching for his phone. “It’s seven thirty.”

“Ugh, too early.”

“Not in the Williamson household. We better get up before my mother comes looking for us. You want the shower first?”

“I thought you said not to worry. And no,” Ryan answered as she burrowed under the comforter.

“So cranky in the morning,” Ben muttered as he got out of bed. Ryan heard him moving around, and then the sound of him opening and closing the door. Ryan let herself lie there and drift in and out of sleep for a bit. She rolled over and opened her eyes to see if Ben had returned yet. What she saw made her squeal and sit up quickly in bed. Holding a hand over her pounding heart, Ryan said, “You scared me.” As her pulse returned to normal, Ryan took in the intruder: a little girl who looked to be about four. She had smooth, dark skin with honey-colored eyes and black hair pulled up so that it looked like she had a mohawk of curls. She was perhaps the most adorable child Ryan had ever seen. “What’s your name?” Ryan asked.

“Tia,” the small girl replied.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tia. I’m Ryan.” When Tia remained silent, Ryan added, “Is your mommy around?”

“She’s downstairs yelling at Aunt Natasha to eat more breakfast. But not at me because I ate all mine.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good. It’s important to eat breakfast.”

Tia nodded seriously. “That’s what my mommy said. She told Aunt Natasha that carbs aren’t the enemy and that she’s going to faint as she’s walking down the aisle if she doesn’t start eating some soon.”

Ryan nodded too. “Your mommy sounds like a smart lady.”

“She is. She’s a doctor.”

Of course she is. Ryan wondered if anyone related to the Williamsons—either by blood or marriage—did anything that required less than a master’s degree. Besides Ben, she supposed. They were probably the only family she’d ever meet who considered being a professional athlete an underachievement.

“What’s your job?” Tia asked.

Christ. Lying to a four-year-old wasn’t exactly how Ryan pictured her day starting. “I’m a librarian.”

The little girl’s eyes lit up. “Like Miss Prendy! She reads to us whenever we want. She’s the best.”

Unsure of how to respond, Ryan decided to smile back at the little girl.

But Tia wasn’t done yet. “Do you have a favorite book?”

Ryan felt the smile vanish from her face. “Um, yeah. I mean, of course.” Ryan racked her brain to remember a title—any title—of a book she’d loved when she was younger. “Amelia Bedelia books are my favorite.”

Tia’s face screwed up. “I don’t know those.”

Ryan managed to keep herself from grimacing. “Well, maybe I’ll be able to find one and read it to you sometime.”

That seemed to make Tia happy again as she jumped a little. “Yeah!”

Laughing, Ryan said, “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

They were interrupted from any further conversation by Ben bursting into the room wearing only sweatpants and rubbing his hair with a towel. When he saw Tia, he visibly startled. “Hey, Ti. What are you doing up here?”

“Hiding.”

Hiding? That was news to Ryan.

“Who are you hiding from?” Ben asked.

“My mommy.”

“Why?”

“Because she keeps messing with me.”

“Oh, I see.” Ben smirked. He opened his mouth to say more, but his voice was cut off by someone yelling for Tia.

“Oh no, they found me,” Tia yelled as she tried to climb under the bed.

Ryan looked down and saw Tia’s feet poking out from under the bed. She couldn’t help but smile. The kid was a trip.

“Tia Louise?” a voice called again, closer this time. Then Beverly appeared at the door. “Have you all seen Tia?”

Ryan pointed down while saying, “Nope. Haven’t seen her.”

“Hmm,” Beverly hummed. “That’s funny, because those look like Tia’s shoes under your bed.”

A giggle came from under the bed. Beverly smiled but her voice was firm when she spoke. “Okay, Tia. Time to come out. Your mommy’s looking for you.”

“But I don’t want her to do my hair anymore,” Tia whined.

“She won’t, honey. We’re getting ready to go see Aunt Natasha’s dress. So come on.”

Tia wiggled out from under the bed and stood. “Bye, Ryan. I gotta go now.”

“Bye, Tia. I’ll see you later.”

Tia skipped out of the room, but Beverly remained. She raised an eyebrow at Ben, who was still shirtless and holding a towel. “Is your own shower not working properly?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, which told Ryan the question was more of a statement about etiquette than an inquiry into the bathroom’s plumbing issues. “Ryan, I thought you might want to come to Natasha’s final dress fitting with us. We could get to know each other a little better.”

“Oh, uh . . .” She looked at Ben, but he just stared blankly back at her. “Sure. I’d love to.”

“Great. We’re going to leave in about forty minutes. Can you be ready by then?”

“Absolutely.”

Beverly smiled primly. “Wonderful. See you downstairs, then.” She retreated before Ryan could reply.

Once she was out of earshot, Ben said, “Well, that sounds like a lot of fun.” His tone was dry and a smirk played on his lips.

“I hate you,” Ryan replied as she pulled herself out of bed and started gathering her toiletries and clothes from her suitcase.

“Ben?” a voice called from the hallway.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“You about ready to go?”

Ben’s shoulders slumped a little, but he kept his voice bright when he replied. “Yeah. Be there in a few minutes.”

“Great. We’ll meet you out front.”

Ryan stood and walked over to Ben. “Well, that sounds like fun.”

“I hate you,” Ben said, echoing her earlier words before dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t let my mom intimate you. She’s like a shark. She can smell fear.”

“I thought that was dogs.”

Ben shrugged. “Dogs, sharks, whatever. Be yourself and she’ll love you.” Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, which caused him to add, “You know what I mean.”

“So that wasn’t you giving me permission to tell your mother I’m an escort?”

Wrapping his arms around her, Ben pulled her close. “No, it was not.”

Ryan laughed and tried to pull away, but Ben held onto her. She looked up at him to see his brow furrowed and his lips twisted to one side as if he was contemplating something.

“You know I’m okay with who you are, right?”

That was . . . weird. “Yeah,” she said, drawing out the word.

“I just . . . I want to make sure you know that I like who you are. I don’t want you to feel like, since we made up a whole persona for you, that I wish you were different or somebody else. Truthfully, I don’t think I could do this with anyone but you. So, thank you . . . for being you.”

The admission was awkward and rambling, but it was also sweet and heartfelt. It was exactly what Ryan had needed to hear even though she hadn’t realized it until he’d said the words. “Thank you for being you too.” Their eyes stayed locked on one another for a few more moments until Ryan pulled away so she could be ready in time.

She showered, dressed quickly, and shot Camille a “I’m alive and not in a ditch” text. But the men had still already left by the time she arrived downstairs. It was awkward to enter a room full of women she barely knew, but Ryan tried not to let herself be intimidated. She’d been in rougher situations than this one. A few unfamiliar females should be a piece of cake. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Ryan walked into the kitchen.

There were seven women and Tia in the room, all trying to talk at once. At least until they noticed Ryan standing there. Then they all fell silent and stared at her. Ryan gave them a self-conscious wave.

Thankfully, Beverly filled the quiet. “Ryan, come and get some breakfast, and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Ryan moved toward the island where food was laid out and put some fruit on a plate before joining Beverly at the table.

“You met Natasha already.”

Natasha nodded at her with a friendly smile, which Ryan returned.

“This is her mother ,Clara, and her sister, Renee, who’s Natasha’s matron of honor. And Tia’s mom,” she added with a smile at the little girl. “Then there are the other bridesmaids: Jasmine, Deirdre, Sascha, and Joy. And you already met the flower girl,” Beverly said as she pointed at Tia. “Everyone, this is Ryan, Ben’s girlfriend.”

They all exchanged hellos and quickly resumed whatever conversation they’d been in before Ryan had come in. They seemed to be debating the pros and cons of a French manicure, though Ryan zoned out to give herself a mental pep talk as she ate her fruit. She could do this. They were only people, and Ryan had worked with people most of her life—mostly in the capacity of serving them drinks and being nice when she didn’t necessarily want to be. So this really shouldn’t be all that different. Not that Ryan didn’t like the people she’d met in the last twenty-four hours, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t have to like them. She only had to pretend she did and make them like her in return. Easy.

A little later, Renee clapped her hands and declared it was time to leave. They all walked outside where a limo awaited to take them to the dress shop. Ryan thought it was overkill to hire a limo to take them to try on a dress, but whatever rich people wanted to do with their money wasn’t her concern. She took a seat next to Beverly and Tia squeezed in on the other side of her.

“Can you read me Emily Bedily now?”

“You mean Amelia Bedelia?”

Tia nodded. Ryan was about to reply, but Clara broke in. “Tia, Ryan doesn’t have any books with her right now.”

Tia’s face fell and she sat back in her seat, pulling away from Ryan a little. A thought struck Ryan, and she dug her phone out of her purse and opened Google. She did a quick search and then showed the phone to Tia. “I found one online. Is this one okay?” It was Play Ball, Amelia Bedelia, which had always been one of Ryan’s favorites. She could almost hear her grandmother reading it to her as they sat together in the rocking chair on their porch.

Nodding vigorously, Tia tucked herself into Ryan’s side so she could see the pictures as Ryan read. Since she was supposed to be a librarian, and she figured she should be animated when it came to reading to children, Ryan let herself get swept up in the story, changing voices for different characters, and asking Tia questions about the pictures as they went. Ryan got so engrossed, she didn’t even notice that everyone was quiet as they watched her read to Tia until she finished the story. She looked at everyone sheepishly as she put away her phone. “Sorry. I got a little carried away.”

“No need to be sorry,” one of the girls—Sascha, Ryan thought her name was—said. “I was enjoying it. It’s been years since I’ve read one of those books.”

The other women murmured assent, and Ryan was happy to see Beverly smiling warmly at her. Ryan’s reading must have sparked a hint of nostalgia for everyone because they started discussing memories and favorite pastimes.

Ryan let herself get swept up into the conversation, even going so far as to share fond memories of her own that she was surprised she had in common with the other girls. If anyone had told her she’d be in a limo bonding with a group of wealthy women over Easy-Bake Ovens and Malibu Barbies, Ryan wouldn’t have believed them. But here she was, doing just that. And as Ryan sat there soaking in all their stories, she was filled with a feeling she’d had only fleetingly in her adult life: acceptance.