Graham

Amber and Lori talked about the dress right until we arrived at the restaurant where we were having the tasting. When Amber had e-mailed me to ask if I had time for the menu tasting, my first instinct was to reply that they should have it without me. I'd had enough trouble putting Lori out of my mind after our dinner. But eventually I said yes. I didn't want to be a jerk. If I was attracted to Lori that was my problem, not Amber's.

We were led to the back of the restaurant, in a small room with no patrons. Matt was waiting inside already, talking to a woman who introduced herself as Gigi, the florist. Flower arrangements covered every square inch of two tables. A third table was filled with plates. There were six tables total crammed in the small room. It struck me as odd that they were all different, until Lori said, "Let me know if you like any tablecloths we have here. If not, I have more in my car. I can bring them out and change them."

Amber ran her fingers over each table and inspected the various flower arrangements, nodding and chatting with Lori.

"Graham, Matt, which ones are your favorite flower arrangements?" Amber asked.

The arrangements all looked the same to me, but I knew better than to voice that opinion. "They’re all great." 

"Oh, I see. You're going to be just as helpful as you were with the dress. Matt?"

Matt slid me a glance that clearly said Help. I could use some help myself at this very moment. I didn't know a thing about flowers. I'd signed up for tasting food, something I was good at. I didn't even know what kind of flowers these were. I recognized roses, and what I thought might be orchids, and that was it.

"Amber, I suggest we go with your gut feeling. In my experience, the first choice is always the best one," Lori said, saving my bacon.

Amber tilted her head, glancing between two arrangements for a few seconds, before saying, "Okay, let's go with the orchids. And I'll take the light green and gold tablecloths."

Lori tapped her iPad, making notes. "Excellent. If it's okay with everyone, I'll ask for the appetizers."

There was a general hum of agreement, and Amber, Matt, and I sat down.

"I'll be in the main room of the restaurant," Gigi said. "In case you change your mind about the flowers during the tasting."

After she left, the servers brought the appetizers. Lori stood between Amber and Matt, pointing to the plates. "We have a selection of salmon and dill sauce on a bed of asparagus. Next to it is tuna with black pepper crust. For the guests who don't like fish, they can opt for the roast beef with béarnaise sauce. And of course, we have a vegan option."

Even though I was starving, I forced myself to take small bites, so I could actually taste the food and give my opinion on it, not just scarf it all down. It was no surprise that it all tasted like it cost a million bucks, even though it hadn't. I'd already seen the prices. Lori had kept her word of delivering the best quality at the best rates.

"Lori, I can't possibly eat all of this on my own," Amber said, "or we'll have to go back to the store and have my dress fitted again. Come on. Share my plate."

Lori hesitated, but she'd talked with so much gusto about the food that I was sure she'd love to try it. I stood and brought a chair from the next table, wedging it between Amber's and mine, not giving her the chance to sit between Matt and Amber. The waiter who was in charge of our group immediately brought an empty plate and cutlery, and Lori caved.

Amber forked some food onto the plate. When Lori dipped the asparagus in the béarnaise sauce, she scooted to the edge of her chair, and her skirt rode up her legs high enough to reveal toned thighs. They were mouth-watering. I clasped the fork tighter to keep myself from touching her. Lori caught the hem of her skirt, tugging it down.

"Well, if there's one thing our guests won't be able to complain about, it's the food," Amber said, rubbing a palm over her belly after the main course.

"We won't give the guests the chance to complain about anything," Lori assured her, iPad in hand once again, even though she hadn't finished eating. "So, we've got down the menu, the flowers, and the tablecloths. Cake's coming up in a few minutes."

"Okay. But I want to go outside first. I need fresh air. It's getting stuffy in here. I don't want to risk getting sick."

"I'll come with you," Matt said.

As the two of them left, Lori started typing on her iPad. "Sorry to be antisocial, but I want to write down everything we discussed during the meal while it's fresh in my mind."

"I get it."

After she finished writing her notes, she pulled up the website of an upcoming concert, pressing her lips together.

"You a fan?" I asked.

"My son is. I wanted to get him tickets, but they were sold out in three minutes after sales opened. I kept hoping they'd put some additional ones on sale, but no luck. I have my entire family pulling strings."

"It's your lucky day."

"What do you mean?"

"I have two tickets, and I don't plan on going. I'll have them sent to you."

"That would make Milo's month. Year, probably. Are you sure? Why don't you plan on going?"

"Not a fan."

"I’ll take them. Let me know how much they were and I'll transfer the money to you."

"No need. I got them as a gift. I'll have someone at the club deliver them to you."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

She pulled up her calendar app. Hell, that looked like a nightmare. She was close enough that I could see the entries in detail. Those marked with red seemed work-related. Those in green seemed to mark activities she'd planned with her son (soccer practice, soccer game, watching Scooby Doo, sleepover—Jeremy comes over; make lasagna, quality time—activity TBD).

"You're thorough," I said, more to myself. "I've never seen anyone schedule their free time in so much detail."

"I forget things if I don't do this. Easiest way to keep track of Milo's schedule too."

"You spend a lot of time with him.”

“I try.” She shrugged, as if it was normal. But I'd witnessed firsthand what not trying felt like, so I knew exactly how special it was, how special she was. She brought up the wedding week on her calendar.

"This is what the schedule looks like in the three days prior to the wedding. The company we're renting the tent from will need one day to set it up. The next day, I'm taking care of all the decorations. Only the flowers and the chairs for the ceremony will be delivered on the wedding day, but I want the rest to be ready the day before. Is that okay for you? It means you'll have people milling around for two days before the wedding. I can squeeze everything in one day if it's too much trouble."

"I don't mind. I'm at the house only in the evening, anyway."

She nodded, absently rubbing the side of her neck with one hand. Was the neck a sweet spot for her? If I placed open-mouthed kisses there, would she moan? If I bit lightly, would she arch for me, beg for more? The wild desire to discover all her sweet spots slammed into me. I looked away from her neck and met her eyes. Her pupils had dilated a notch. Her breath was coming out faster. She clasped her iPad with both hands.

"Right, so the tent will be dismantled and shipped off the day after the wedding. I'll be there to supervise everything."

She pointed on the screen at the schedule for the wedding and the day after. The night of the wedding was marked red until four o'clock in the morning, and then red again from seven to eleven on Sunday.

"You don't have to come back so early on Sunday," I said. "You can have everything shipped back on Monday; I don't care."

"Oh, but the tent company does. They want that tent back before lunch."

"Can't you have someone else oversee it? You're working the night before."

"My assistants work every other Sunday. My turn this time."

She wanted to drive forty minutes, in the dark, after a twenty-hour workday. It wasn't safe. It was madness, and I wasn't going to allow it. Not in a million years.

"I'll make you a deal. Sleep at my house after the wedding. It's not safe for you to drive back that late. You'll be tired."

She set the iPad on the table and shook her head. "I've done this before."

"When the wedding was in the city, I assume."

"Well, yes. I've had two out of town and spent the night at a local hotel, but your house is just outside Santa Monica."

"How long does it take to reach your place without traffic?"

"Forty minutes."

"You'll get about two hours of sleep."

"More like one and a half," she admitted. "But I'm used to it."

"Driving when you’re tired isn’t smart."

She rolled her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. "Graham, it's fine."

"It's not fine," I countered, moving my chair until I was so close to her that I could smell her perfume. Sweet and spicy. Why was she so stubborn? I had an inkling about what might change her mind. I was figuring her out.

"What if something happened to you? What about your son?"

"Oh, you're good. I'll give you that." 

"I'm guessing he'll have a sitter for the night anyway?"

"He'll be at my sister's."

"Good. And you'll sleep at my house."

She parked her hands on her hips. "I did not agree. We're discussing the idea."

"Tell me the downsides."

"It's not how things are done."

"I don't give a fuck about how things are done."

"It's not professional. I don't want to be in Matt and Amber's way."

I didn't understand what she meant about Matt and Amber, but I wanted to set one thing straight.

"I am extending you the invitation, and I won't back down until I get a yes."

"Are we really fighting on this?"

"We're negotiating."

I leveled her with my stare, perching a hand on the headrest of her seat. When she moved her hands from her hips into her lap, her bare upper arm grazed against my forearm. A current of awareness passed between us. It went straight below my belt. The chemistry between us was crazy. Maybe having her under my roof wasn't the best idea.

Her voice was a little uneven when she said, "Thank you for the invitation. I'll take you up on it."

"Perfect."

I was backing up my chair when Amber and Matt came back in.

"I'm ready for the cake," Amber announced.

As we tasted the different options, I paid more attention to Lori than the cake. She was pulling me deeper under her spell. I felt like I didn't even have a choice. She took notes while we voiced our opinions, and then we all got up to leave since we'd covered everything.

"We're also going to need transportation after the party," Matt said as we were about to exit the room.

"I already arranged that. All the guests are going to be taken care of."

"For ourselves," Matt continued. "We're going to sleep at an airport hotel. Our flight leaves at 6:00 a.m., and crossing the city in the morning is a bad idea."

"Oh, I'd been under the impression you'd be staying with— never mind. I'll arrange transportation, of course." 

Now I understood her comment about being in the way. She'd thought Amber and Matt were sleeping at my house after the wedding. She slung her bag over her shoulder and only gave me a smile before leaving. A very small, very quick smile. I'd have given anything to know what went through her mind when she realized we'd be alone that night.