Page 33 of Tumbleweed Temptation
“Let’s get to work.”
The house looked great by the time they left at close to ten that night. Javi had brought out a truck full of folding chairs and the ladies set them up in the living room, facing the wall away from the door, for the ceremony. Austin was so damned tired, he couldn't appreciate much, though, and almost forgot he’d brought Ginny out here until she hurried after him and opened the passenger side of his Jeep.
“You and Con barely said two words to each other,” she pointed out without preamble.
“We don't have a lot in common.”
“You worked together like four hours in there.”
“Still doesn't mean we have anything in common.”
“You think he still blames your mom.”
“I don't care if he still blames my mom. I still blame him for not coming to her defense when he knew she wasn't at fault.”
“Austin, he was grieving himself. Blaming himself. You can’t hold that against him all these years later.”
“Believe me when I say I’m not proud of how I feel. But I feel it nonetheless.”
“Austin, we’re all friends here. You’re going to be around him a lot. You’re going to have to find a way to get past it, and honestly? I think the only way to do it is for the two of you to have a conversation.”
Part of him knew she was right, but the stubborn part didn't want to give in. He didn't want to be a part of the crew, even though he was here for seven more years.
Chapter Eight
The morning of thewedding was beautiful, after a night of storms. Another flurry of texts had blown up her phone again overnight, because Beck had rolled his truck and hurt his arm, but he was determined the wedding would go on. Ginny was glad of that because honestly, she’d kept her distance from Lacey in case she’d slipped up and said something.
She just couldn't imagine what her friend’s reaction would be when she got to the house and saw. She couldn’t wait.
Ginny packed up her dress and make-up and headed to Poppy’s to help with the flowers. Thankfully Poppy had cut them before the storms, because Poppy’s yard looked pretty battered after the winds and rain. When Ginny walked into her house in the back of her parents’ property, the scent of cut flowers was powerful, but the arrangements were breathtaking.
Poppy did love her flowers, and she was excellent at arrangements.
Together, the two of them loaded the back of Poppy’s car, with the most precarious on the floorboards, in boxes so they wouldn’t tilt over.
“A spring wedding would have been better, more selection,” Poppy murmured as she fluffed the bride’s bright bouquet of sunflowers and Gerber daisies.
