Page 58 of The Wedding Run
“To leave room for the unexpected. Life is full of surprises if we’re open to them. Something unpredictable, impulsive, and astonishing. Like you.” He taps his glass against mine. “You were a surprise. Seeing you hobbling through the parking lot searching for your lists in a robe and bare feet. Then, on the highway, in your wedding dress.”
I twist my napkin into a knot. “I’ve always considered surprises bad. Like bad news. It upends plans, disrupts a day, or even a life. Diagnoses. Loss of a job. Death. Even a letter at the wrong moment, and a bride walks out on her groom. That was a surprise Derek wasn’t expecting or prepared for.”
He nods in an understanding way. “Surprises can pull the rug out from under you. But you don’t strike me as a negative person, Libby.”
“I’m a realist. I plan for a rainy day. Because it will come.”
“Maybe,” he says, leaning forward. “But you don’t want to ruin a sunny day with worry about a cloud on the horizon.”
“But you have to prepare,” I insist. “The stormwillcome.”
“But rain isn’t always bad. You like to garden, right? Rain is important for the garden to grow. Difficult times help us grow, too. You have to learn to avoid the puddles.”
“Or jump right in?” I muse, thinking of washing his truck.
“Fun isn’t a bad thing.” He smiles.
“I’ve known a lot of entrepreneurs. I am one, as are you. Yet, you’re different. Is your enjoy-the-sunshine philosophy why you don’t work twenty-four-seven?”
He shrugs. “If you fill up every hour of the day with to-do lists – sorry, I know how revered your lists are – then there isn’t much time for something spontaneous. Like this dinner. But you had it planned, didn’t you?”
I smile guiltily. “I did and didn’t. But I understand what you mean. Still, being open to surprises is why you’ve been able to help me this week.”
“I’m glad I could.” His look holds something I cannot quite grasp. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Let me clean up first,” I stall.
“Since you cooked, I’ll clean. That’s the rule.”
“I like that rule.” It reminds me of my dad always saying, ‘Kiss the cook’,after every meal. My sisters and I would hug and kiss Momma as a thank-you, and then Dad would dramatically lean Momma over his arm for a whopper of a kiss that would make us laugh and dance. But I will not suggest kissing the cook to Luke. He might take me up on the offer. Or then again…
My gaze meets his once more, and I feel a rush of heat from my toes to my hairline.
CHAPTER 30
Libby
Luke turns on classical music. Is he setting a romantic scene? I sit on the loveseat. Part of me wants to embrace this yearning. Another part of me knows it’s too soon. I need reasons not to engage.
I peek under the loveseat. No dust bunnies. Drat.
A stack of magazines sits on the coffee table, and I pick through them. There’s aTravel magazine and theSmithsonian. At the bottom of the stack isVictoria, a magazine with a fancy china teapot and a gorgeous, three-tiered cake on the cover. I flip through it in search of something that might offer a clue about the teabag.
“That’s my mom’s,” he says. “In case you were wondering.”
“I was thinking of Dumbledore and his knitting magazine,” I manage.
“Fourth book?” he asks.
“Half-blood Prince,” I correct.
“I should have known. My mother wants Roxie to use a recipe for the shop. I keep forgetting to give it to her.”
I close the magazine and straighten the stack, but the rugged Cliffs of Moher grab my attention. Holding upTravel, I ask, “Where would you go if you could go anywhere?”
Luke dries a pan. “So many places, so little…”
“Time?” I offer.
