Page 204 of Wild Then Wed
Nova tilts her head. “So, how’d you and Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Veterinary meet? Sawyer hasn’t told me.”
I clear my throat, eyes still on the napkin. “Our families have…known each other a long time.”
Nova raises a perfectly arched brow. “Known each other a long time,” she repeats slowly. “So what—you just woke up one day and decided to love each other?”
I let out a small laugh. “No. Not exactly.”
She waits, curious.
I lift one shoulder. “He helped me with something at the feed store once. That’s kind of where it started.”
That part’s true. The rest—the years of family tension—I leave out.
“After that,” I say, “we just…kept talking, I guess and now here we are.”
Nova smiles like she can see the rest anyway, even if I didn’t say it. “Well,” she says, sipping her champagne, “thank God for the feed store.”
I decide right then that I really like Nova. She’s got this warmth to her—like she could host a dinner party for fifty people and somehow make each of them feel like the guest of honor. She reads a room in seconds flat, but not in a calculating way. More like…she just wants everyone to feel comfortable. Like she was born knowing how to make space for people.
She’s striking, too—glowing caramel brown skin, those wild curls, the kind of smile that makes you smile back before you realize you’re doing it and big green eyes the color of sunlit leaves. It’s not hard to see how she landed someone like Joel. Or why she’s good at what she does.
Our conversation is interrupted by a sudden flurry of movement—waiters with white gloves weaving through the tables with polished trays. Silver domes are lifted, one after the other, and I blink down at the plate in front of me.
It’s beautiful.
Pan-seared sea bass resting on a bed of wild mushroom risotto made with cashew cream. Asparagus spears charred just enough to still have a snap. Edible flowers scattered across the plate like confetti. A tiny dish of citrus-dressed micro-greens on the side and what looks like a gluten-free brioche roll beside a ramekin of dairy-free herbed butter.
I blink, pleasantly surprised. “Oh wow. I can actually eat all of this.”
Nova leans in, her eyes skimming my plate. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”
I sip my water. “Food allergies. No dairy, no gluten. Usually I just push the food around and hope nobody notices.”
Her brows shoot up. “Oh! It all makes sense now.”
“Makes sense?”
She sets her fork down and nods. “Someone from Sawyer’s clinic called me a few days ago, asking for a recommendation for a new caterer. He told them that the old one wouldn’t work this year and I remember thinking it was weird—he’s used the same one for, like, four years and then suddenly wants one that’s twice as expensive. I figured he was just on a weird health kick or something.”
I pause. “Wait—he changed the caterer?”
“Yeah. He said he needed one that could handle dietary restrictions.” She shrugs. “I didn’t realize it was for you until just now.”
I stare down at my plate. The perfect, allergen-friendly plate. The one I didn’t ask for. The one I didn’t even think to ask for.
He didn’t say anything about it—not once. No mention, no quiet hint that I should notice or feel grateful. He just changed the entire menu, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like taking care of me didn’t need to be acknowledged.
No attention drawn. No credit taken. Just this beautiful, thoughtful thing he did so I wouldn’t feel like an afterthought.
So I’d feel like I belonged at this table.
I pick up my fork, my throat tight. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me love him just a little bit more.
Joel and Sawyer are still laughing as they shake hands with the last of the men, parting ways with a few shoulder claps and promises to catch up again soon. Joel slips into the chair beside Nova, nodding toward the food. “Damn, this looks incredible.”
Sawyer drops into the seat beside me and lets out a breath. His hand lands on my thigh under the table—warm and familiar—and he gives it a gentle squeeze as he leans in a little.
“Sorry I left you alone so long,” he says, his voice low, just for me. “Nova didn’t scare you off, did she?”
