Page 79 of The Wedding Crush

I’d be a fool to let something as small as fear get in the way.

I want to earn her love if that’s where this takes us.

But I don’t say any of that to Mother.

Nor do I sense she buys my answer. Still, she graciously lets me off the hook for now.

The rain picks up, falling in fat drops.

Not wanting to get caught in it, she hurries to slip her arms into the sleeves of her raincoat, retrieve her umbrella from her purse, and dash out into the fray.

What seems like a minute later, Avery rushes insides with her coat shielded over her head, her feet squelching with every footstep.

She’s drenched.

Her usual bright sundress, kelly-green this time, clings to her swollen breasts and round thighs. Her hair is stuck to her face, and her shoes are covered in mud.

“Oof, it is coming down out there, but I made it.” She chances a quick look at me before her attention snaps to the tasting table heaped with the menu options from our restaurant, Bramoso, and a flight of glasses filled with a selection of white and red wines.

“Glad you made it safely,” I say.

“Thanks.” Avery inches toward the table, plucking at her soaked dress. She’s clearly uncomfortable but she seems resolved to get straight to the business. “This looks amazing. It’ll be early afternoon, so a starter salad, a few protein options with pastas and vegetables, and we’re good.”

I nod. “Should we maybe have a specialty item like truffles or dulse-wrapped grapes.”

“Oh myGodthat would be great with the vineyard setting and Morgan’s lavender and gold theme. Maybe we can skip the spring salad and go for a Waldorf with Concord grapes…”

Snapping my fingers, I grab my pen and jot down notes. “Paired with a light-bodied red, or even a Riesling, a nice Pinot Grigio—”

“I love it.” Avery’s voice buoys with excitement before she seems to realize she’s falling into our easy, comfortable ways, and tamps down her enthusiasm.

A shiver vibrates her shoulders.

Again, Avery plucks at her dress, and I know I shouldn’t overstep. I should do nothing. I should put in the action. Double down on my prayers.

But try as I may, I can’t stand here and watch her suffer.

“Can I get you a blanket or offer you my sweater?” I’m already pulling it over my head when she leans in and steadies my hand.

My skin feels electric.

My heart flutters as our eyes connect.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.”

I toss her a challenging stare. “You’re shivering, and I may have noticed your teeth chattering.”

Despite herself, her attention falls briefly to my lips.

“Let’s just focus on the menu and wine list,” she says sharply.

But her gaze falters, and I can’t let the moment pass. Not without opening to her.

“Avery?”

“Please, let’s focus on the menu and wine list,” she repeats.

Her chest rises and falls punctuating her nerves.

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