Page 111 of Make Her Mine

“You know, a week ago, I didn’t even like you,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “A week ago, you didn’t admit you liked me.”

“The gazebo might not be big enough for you, me, and your ego to stand in.”

He just laughs.

“Let’s go sit for a minute,” I say.

“How much longer do you want to stay?”

“Shouldn’t we stay until Kaelyn and Carver leave?” I ask.

“Probably. But they went to ride the Ferris wheel, then I saw them over by the ring toss game. I know Carver will want funnel cakes before they leave, but they could have been gone for thirty minutes by now and no one would have noticed.”

I laugh, looking around and not spotting the bride or groom. “Another pro for having a wedding during the festival. Makes sneaking off easier.”

He grins a mischievous grin that makes my stomach flip. “Exactly.”

Those grins of his…I like them too much.

Hand in hand we head for the table where our parents are sitting with some of their friends. All of the couples have been out on the dance floor—can you call the street a dance floor?—but Jefferson’s parents have been out there the most.

One thing I really love about knowing my parents’ friends so well is knowing lots of stories about them from before all of us kids came along.

I know that Adrianne and Mason first met when Mason bid on dancing with her at a fundraising auction. He’d only been back in town for an hour or so and had no intention of getting involved in what the town had going on, but he’d taken one look at Adrianne and immediately offered an amount that no one else in town could possibly outbid.

I think of the story and smile every time I see them dance at any event.

The group is technically taking up four tables in the beer garden area at the opposite end of the street from the band, but they’ve more or less arranged their chairs so they’re in one big huddle.

We start to take two empty chairs near Jefferson's parents, but a voice says, “Hey, Harlow, come sit by me.”

I arch my brows at TJ Bennett, Margot’s dad.

He grins and pats the seat of the chair he’s just pulled up between him and his wife, Hope.

“Oh boy,” I say as I sit down. “What’s this about?”

“Just wondering what you all had for breakfast this morning, that’s all,” TJ says.

I look from TJ to Jefferson, confused. “I had peanut butter toast. Why do you ask?”

“Huh. Margot doesn’t usually eat a lot in the morning before a run.”

“O-k-a-y.”

“She did the 5k race this morning. So did she have peanut butter toast?” TJ asks.

I look at him with wide eyes. I’m supposed to know what Margot had for breakfast. I get that. But why?

“Um…I didn’t see her this morning,” I hedge. Honestly, if she did the 5k that was way before I was awake.

“Since she spent the night at your house, I was just curious,” TJ says, draping an arm along the back of my chair.

Right. Margot was watching movies at my house last night before I had to leave to pick Jefferson up. Apparently, she told her parents she spent the night with me. Or they're just assuming that because she didn’t go home last night.

Yeah, now I want to know about where she spent her night and what she had for breakfast too. Kind of. Except for the part about how she probably spent the night with my best friend who’s like a brother to me. I don’t really want to know too much about what Margot and Graham do when they’re naked together.

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