Page 90 of The Wedding Run
“What?! How do you know?” Elle questions me like she’s a police detective seeking a full confession. “Did he say that? Outright say it? Or was it more implied?”
I feel annoyed by it all. “Derek owns over half his business! He could take his investment and let The Brew fold. Not to mention, I’m a bad risk.”
Charlie nods. “Running from the altar and all.”
Elle crosses her arms over her chest, ready to defend me. “How’s that?”
“Who in their right mind wants a runaway bride?” I ask.
“Probably makes her attractive to some men,” Charlie says. “Men like a challenge.”
“You should know,” I fire back. If anyone poses a challenge, it’s Charlie.
“Just because you ran away once does not mean you’ll do it again,” Elle argues. “Maybe Luke is giving you time to heal from your last relationship.”
Charlie nods sagely. “Sounds like love to me.”
“The sacrificial kind,” Elle agrees. “Protecting your heart. So sweet!”
I shake my head, denying everything until I focus on Charlie. And her teacup. She’s dunkingtheteabag—Momma’s teabag—up and down again. “Charlie!”
“What?” She jerks, nearly spilling the tea.
“What’s wrong?” Elle asks. “What’s happened?”
Bailey jumps to his feet.
I grab the cup from Charlie. Momma’s teabag is floating in the hot water.
CHAPTER 46
Libby
Elle’s eyes widen. “Is that Momma’s…?”
I yank the dripping teabag out of Charlie’s teacup and hurry toward the kitchen. I gently place the teabag in a saucer. A pale, golden tea seeps out of it.
“Oh, Lib!” Charlie follows me. “I saw the teabag on the table, and I thought… I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left it out.”
Charlie and Elle wrap their arms around me. For a long moment, we hug.
“It’s only a teabag.” I sniff back tears. “Which probably tastes terrible.”
“It’s not great.” Charlie pushes the teacup toward me. “Try it.”
The porcelain feels warm against my palms. I wonder if it will smell of fish, but instead, there’s a delicate, minty, organic scent. I sample it, allowing the hot, earthy flavor to roll over my tongue and down my throat. Then, I hand it to Charlie.
“It’s expired,” Elle warns.
“It’s from Momma,” I say.
Charlie sips more, licking her lips. "I already had some.”
Elle grabs the cup and takes a longer, deeper gulp. Making a face, she sticks her tongue out. “Does this mean I can read the letter now?”
I laugh. “When you get engaged.”
