Page 18 of Mr. Swoony

“So, during this magic moment between you two, it never came out that your sister designed the dress she’s going to wed another man in?” Tweetie asks.

I ignore Tweetie. “What else do you know?” I ask Rowan, desperate to find out more details because… what? I’m going to stop the wedding if she’s not happy? I’d never do that. Maybe I just like to torture myself.

He shrugs. “Henry probably knows more than me. I saw her at Kyleigh’s shop last fall with Jade. She was trying on a wedding dress. I wasn’t paying attention because I had brought Kyleigh an iced coffee, and we were in our little bubble.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Tweetie says with an eye roll.

Rowan flips him off without looking in his direction. “But she left abruptly, and Jade chased her, then Henry chased Jade. That’s about all I know. That, and the fact that I have to go to her wedding on Saturday. I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I would’ve done had Kyleigh been about to marry someone else when I met her.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like there’s a future for us or anything. It was one night, and I’m probably making it bigger than it was. I need to push Eloise out of my head. Don’t say anything to Henry or Jade, okay? I don’t want this to be a thing. Plus, I’m sure Eloise wants to keep it a secret.” I go over to my bag, change my shoes, and put my bag over my shoulder.

“You’re the dirty secret,” Tweetie says, laughing.

Rowan watches me carefully.

“Pinkie, you need to work out, at least to rebound off this blonde who’s got you all fucked in the head,” Tweetie says, but I just wave and walk out the door.

I’m half tempted to follow them to the wedding Saturday and hide in the shadows. Maybe when I see her marrying another guy, I’ll finally know that anything between us is out of the question. But I’d never ruin her day, so I’ll torture myself until there’s no hope left.

Eight

Eloise

I insert my shiny new key into the lock of Tristan’s front door. We’re only days away from marrying one another, and I’m moving out of my apartment this week, but I’ll stay with my parents until we’re official because of his grandpa and grandma’s demands that we don’t live together until after the I-dos.

“Tristan!” I call, getting no response.

The kitchen and family room are empty. I drop my purse on the counter and head to the back door, hoping he might be outside by his pool.

Tristan recently moved from his downtown condo to the north suburbs to be closer to his parents and grandparents. Mostly his dad and grandpa, since he has to spend so much time shadowing them to take on a larger role at the company at some point. I had looked forward to choosing a house together, but one day, he surprised me by driving me here and telling me it was ours.

I shouldn’t complain. It’s a beautiful four-bedroom, three-bath custom home on a private street with many families. When I mentioned raising our kids here though, Tristan was adamant that we’d be in a bigger house by the time we have kids.

The backyard is empty, so I grab my phone from my purse and go to the fridge to get a drink while I wait for him. I dial him up, and he answers on the first ring.

“Hey, baby, sorry, I’m on my way home now. Merrick asked me to stop for a drink after work. His dad is on him about that Paris getaway he took Ashley on last weekend.” He laughs. “But I’m just pulling down my street now. Be there in a second.”

He hangs up, and it isn’t until I open his fridge, which holds nothing but beer, white wine, and ten takeout containers, that I realize I never even said a word to him. And that he referred to the street as his, not ours.

I hear the garage door open, and Tristan walks in the door down the hall, still wearing his suit from the office.

“Thank God I’m not Merrick. He’s getting his ass raked over the coals about taking off.” He tosses his keys on the counter, wraps his arms around my waist, and buries his head in my neck.

“Why? Those two are always going out.”

He pulls back and goes to the fridge, grabbing a beer. “His dad told him he’d better marry her if he’s going to spend that type of money on her.” He unscrews the beer cap and raises his eyebrows. “I told him he should be smart like me. Let’s go out on the patio.” He walks by me to the French doors, and I follow.

“I was thinking, how about we go to the store and grab some things to make dinner here?” I sit on the patio furniture he bought a week after moving in. I’m not a huge fan of the hard iron, but his mom picked it out.

He stretches his long legs out and rests his feet on the chair across from him, tipping back the beer. “I’m supposed to go out with the boys tonight.”

I frown. “You were just with Merrick.”

“Yeah, which is when we decided to live it up before we’re both chained down.” He chuckles again, and when I don’t, he sighs. “Oh, come on, it’s a joke.”

“Well, you make it sound like I’m going to be cramping your style.”

“You’re so sensitive. This wedding has made you lose your sense of humor.”

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