Page 85 of Stirring Up Love
“Anyway, here.” Feet planted on the far side of the welcome mat, he leaned in and thrust the purse into Chantal’s hands.
“Wait!” Alisha fought herself out from under the vat of chips and waved him in. “As the bachelorette, I insist you stay and have some snacks before you get back on the road.”
He looked toward Simone, who raised her shoulders in the barest of shrugs. Not exactly a resounding invitation. He’d grab one bite of food and make his escape. Give her time to process the past few days. To decide if she wanted a partnership, let alone a relationship.
Dragged over to the couch, he found himself planted between Alisha and Meg, who’d passed him a mug of what was billed as apple cider but what he discovered was roughly two-thirds cinnamon whiskey.
Cradling the mug, he took another tentative sip and winced, then set it on the coffee table. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here on time. Simone so badly wanted to be here for your party.”
Alisha took a hearty glug of her own drink, then wiped her mouth. “She is here.”
“I meant in the city. You were supposed to go out, right?”
“To be honest, you did me a favor by keeping her away.” Alisha’s dark-brown eyes twinkled at him, a more mischievous version of Simone’s golden ones. He opened his mouth to say this wasn’t the plan, but she went on, “Clubs and bottle service are not really my scene.”
“Yeah, I’m still not convinced she didn’t hire you to delay me, just so she could weasel out of a night of drinking and debauchery.” Across the room, Simone sat down on the hearth next to a crackling fire. After so much time on the road, even the few feet of distance left him yearning to pull her close, his body tuned to her frequency.
Pulling himself back to the conversation, he said, “Well, this is definitely more low key than VIP.” Shoot, that rhymed. He slumped deeper into the couch, but on the other side of him, Meg snorted into her drink.
“He’s trying to say you’re basic, Ali.”
Not at all, but she smiled.
“Uh, duh. I know I am.” Her good-natured grin put him at ease. “But the last year has been exhausting. Wonderful but exhausting. Between launching my bakery and planning this wedding, what I wanted most was a break, not another all-nighter. So this is perfect.”
“Yeah, she’s such a celebrity now, champagne and parties are ho-hum for her.” Chantal came back in with a tray of shot glasses and more liquor, grinning.
Alisha covered her face with her hands. “I got featured inFoodiemagazine once. Once! And they won’t let me live it down.”
No wonder Simone fought so hard for her restaurant. Food ran in the Blakes’ blood. And with her sister’s success ... no doubt she’d pressured herself to live up to more than just their grandfather’s legacy.
“Foodiemagazine, are you serious?” Primed to make his exit, Finn took a second to congratulate Alisha. “As a regular Joe who never even made it into my high school yearbook, I have to say I’m super impressed.”
“Well, thank you.” She rubbed the rim of her mug with her thumb, still looking embarrassed at the attention, then smiled. “Though to be in our yearbook, you just had to be enrolled. And with a graduating class of thirty-five, making varsity in any sport was as simple as showing up to practice.”
“Wow.” He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure there were thirty-five people in my homeroom.”
Chantal leaned across to grab a handful of chips. “What were you voted senior year? Most likely to lick a condiment off a woman on national TV?”
He choked on a lungful of air. She didn’t pull any punches. “Uh, no. Actually—”
“If I had to guess, I’d say most likely to charm his way into people’s hearts.” Everyone’s heads swiveled toward Simone, and her eyes went round.
Charm his way intopeople’shearts, orherheart?
The room stayed silent a second too long, and she leaped to her feet and snatched up a bottle of tequila from the table. “Shots?”
If he could give her nothing else, he could give her an out. Revealing her feelings for him—if she had them, and oh, how he hoped she did—in front of her friends and sister right now would leave her exposed in a way he knew she hated.
Clearing his throat to claim everyone’s attention, he stood. “Is there a bathroom I can use? Then I’ll hit the road and leave you ladies to celebrate in peace.”
“Not so fast.” Meg stretched her legs out to the coffee table, blocking his escape. “Liquor’s optional, but you’ve got a job to do.”
A spool of ribbon in his lap, Finn tied off a neat bow to match the sample favor box set in the center of the table. Turned out the job Meghad in mind involved gratuitous crafting and not gratuitous nudity like he’d feared.
No striptease, and the only packages involved were 250 small boxes of macarons, destined to become wedding favors.
He still worried Simone didn’t want him there and hated playing a part in making her uncomfortable. But she’d been the one to hand him the scissors and ribbon, which he took as a sign she’d rather he stay than make a scene with a hasty exit.
