Page 32 of Shift of Morals
“I’m always happy to accommodate any suggestions the happy couple brings. I don’t want you to feel like I’m resisting your feedback. If you want red and white, I’m happy to oblige. I’ll have to go back to the drawing board and make up some new examples, but I can have those back to you in a few days.” I pushed the last plate away, wishing there’d been a larger portion. The dish was some kind of hazelnut tiramisu or something with a feather light cake and a cream filling.
“What color are your bridesmaid dresses?” I meant to ask earlier and had gotten distracted by Caelan fingering the Helichrysum tie pin.
“Blue,” Gianna said as she picked up her wine glasses.
Moira choked on her wine and turned her head to cough. I almost laughed before I realized Gianna was serious. That movie came to mind where the busty blonde remarks about how her friend looks like July 4th, and it makes her crave a hot dog.
“If she bends and snaps, I’m going to die,” Moira whispered.
I nudged her under the table. That poor wedding is going to look like America threw up all over it. “Of course,” I said. “I’ll get you some new concepts in a day or so.”
I couldn’t wait one more moment to get out of here. “If that’s all, we will get out of your hair.”
Moira and Soren were whispering something to each other. Their chairs had gotten much closer without me noticing, and I had a weird feeling, whatever this was, wouldn’t stop at tonight.
I kicked her calf gently.
Moira jerked. “Oh. Yes. Right. Let’s go.”
Caelan rose. “I will walk you out.”
“It’s not necessary. We know where the front door is, and I’m sure you’re very tired.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose. “I insist.”
“And I will escort Moira,” Soren chimed in. “There is something I’d like to discuss with her.”
I sent Moira a beseeching look, but she was locked onto her prey. I reluctantly rose, Caelan leading us out of the dining room. Gianna gave us a regal head incline and sailed away, her high heels clicking on the stone floor. Simone was right behind her, but not before she shot me an exasperated but amused look on her way out.
Moira and Soren walked ahead of us, leaving Caelan and me alone.
“You hate the vision,” he said after a moment.
I thought about my words. “It’s not up to me to hate anything. All I can do is guide and suggest, and when none of those are taken, I am required by contract to go ahead with whatever the couple wants.”
Caelan sighed. “It’s going to look like the fourth of July.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
He held out his arm. I hesitated before curling my fingers around the crook of his elbow.
“Your fiancée is beautiful.”
“She is,” Caelan agreed.
“I’m sorry about tonight. My behavior was appalling.” And it was. I’d touched him when I shouldn’t have, destroyed his property even if that boutonniere deserved a fiery death, and had a smart mouth most of the night. I don’t know what got into me when it came to the Shifter Lord, but normally I knew when to keep my mouth shut.
“You really hated my boutonniere that much?” His words held a touch of amusement.
“With the fire of a thousand suns,” I said vehemently.
Caelan laughed, the sound bright and free. He rarely laughed or smiled, and I felt like I held a gift in my palms when he did.
“Do you want to marry her?” I asked softly.
Caelan’s posture stiffened. “It is not up to me.”
I blinked. “Of course it is. You’re a Shifter Lord.”
