Page 99 of Stolen Vows

His lips twitch, but his eyes give him away. They’re more green than brown today, and they’re absolutely shining with amusement. “Have you been thinking about me, wife?”

“Probably not half as much as you’ve been thinking about me.”

His lips curve into a slow, devastating smile that makes my stomach flip. He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. “You have no idea how often you consume me.”

His low, rumbling voice sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard, trying to compose myself even as heat floods my cheeks. Before I can formulate a response, Hazel appears in the foyer, a bright smile lighting up her face.

“I thought I heard voices. Come in, come in. Dinner’s ready.” She beelines for her son, pulling him down into a hug. As soon as she lets him go, she shifts her attention to me, holding her arms open for an embrace.

Okay, so the Carters are definitely the hugging type.

“You have a beautiful home,” I murmur into her shoulder.

“Oh, thank you, dear. You’re welcome anytime.” Hazel pulls back from our hug, smiling brightly at me. “We were starting to think Graham was keeping you all to himself,” she says, cupping my shoulders.

Something flashes across Graham’s face. Guilt? Annoyance? He schools his expression too fast for me to tell.

“Mom,” he says, half warning, half resigned.

Hazel ignores him. “Francesca, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous. Come in, sit down, make yourself at home. You drink champagne, right? Tell me you drink champagne because we have some for a toast to you guys. Don’t tell Cora I spoiled the surprise.” She winks at me.

“Of course,” I say with a chuckle.

“Wonderful. Why don’t you come give me a hand while the boys set the table?” She shuffles me into the kitchen, already reaching for a bottle.

I throw a glance over my shoulder at Graham, who watches me go, something unreadable in his gaze.

33

FRANCESCA

I expected questions.A barrage of them, really. If I was Hazel, and my son married a woman I’d never met, I’d have a boatful of questions in my back pocket.

But the Carter family is largely gentle in their curiosity. Eloise is delighted to hear that I’m the owner of Fiction & Folklore, since her younger sister loves the store. I, of course, refrain from telling her that I recognized her already. Peach-colored hair stands out in the best way in this town.

Cora and I chatted about her bakery. She told me about some kind of ube vegan ice cream sandwich recipe she makes that sounds delicious. I caught Graham dipping his chin to Cora’s boyfriend, Jagger, during the conversation, and I have a feeling he’ll be putting in a custom order for a Tuesday walk soon.

Lucas raises his glass, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. “To Graham and Francesca. May your marriage be filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures together.”

“To Graham and Francesca,” everyone echoes, clinking glasses.

I take a sip of the bubbly champagne, the effervescence tickling my nose. Graham’s hand finds my thigh under the table. A small, intimate gesture that makes warmth bloom in my chest.

"So, how did you two meet?" Lucas asks, leaning back in his chair. “Graham’s been pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.”

I glance at Graham, who gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze. We discussed this earlier, agreeing on a version of the truth without all the finer details.

“We met at Fiction and Folklore actually,” I say with a smile. “Graham came in looking for a book and we got to talking. He started coming by more often and, well, one thing led to another.” I shrug, trying to appear casual even as my heart races. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.

Hazel smiles and nods. “And what was the moment?”

I blink. “The moment?”

“The moment you knew Graham was it for you,” Hazel says, glancing at her husband with fondness.

“Oh, uh?—”

“It was a college party, actually,” Graham interrupts. “That was the first time we met. Almost a decade ago. We’d just won the championship, and I played that night, so I wasn’t in the mood to party, but?—”

---