Page 36 of Amelia and Her Prince Charming
Bret
I’m proud of you, man. That’s growth.
Rosie, you’ve got the rehearsal tomorrow morning.
Rosie
I do, and then it’s the bachelor and bachelorette parties.
But there’s always time for the mommas to scheme.
Gage
I thought we weren’t the mommas.
Rosie
I’ve changed my mind. It has a nice ring to it.
Bret
It really does.
Gage
Okay. Mommas it is. What do you need help with, Rosie?
Rosie
Have either of you ever written a love letter before?
Chapter 22
Hudson
“I’mheretospringyou out of jail,” Dylan Savage said from the open doorway. I was dressed in sweats my dad had brought me from home, waiting for a nurse to bring a wheelchair and roll me out. I spent a lot of time in hospitals, but never as a patient. After one night in this place, I was more than ready to get home.
“Hey, come in.”
Dylan shuffled in, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look like an ecstatic groom. More like someone who hadn’t slept in a couple of days. His hair was mussed and his eyes had the dark circles of someone who’d definitely tossed and turned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing a wedding this morning?”
“We canceled the rehearsal. We’re pretty confident in our ability to figure it out tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, Dyl.”
“No. Don’t be sorry.” Dylan’s eyes went red, and he pulled me into a gentle hug, mindful of my slinged arm. Neither of us had been big huggers growing up, but since Shiloh died, we’d all changed in so many ways. I wrapped my good arm around hisback and felt my own eyes sting with tears. “I’m glad you’re okay, man.”
“Me too.” I’d had some time to start processing everything that had happened. How close Amelia and I had come to things not going well. Those thoughts were dark, and I couldn’t travel down that what-if path for long.
Dylan pulled back and swiped his eyes. “Rosie and Amelia are going to meet us up front.”
“This week hasn’t been what you planned, has it?”
“The theme of my entire relationship with Rosie,” Dylan said dryly. A nurse brought the wheelchair, and Dylan pushed me out front. I spotted Amelia before she saw me. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a braid that rested over one shoulder. She didn’t have any make-up on, was wearing a pair of my mom’s old Christmas pajamas, and her foot was wrapped and elevated. The sight of her completely stole my breath. Dylan’s hand squeezed my shoulder.
A rideshare was there to pick us up and take us to the marina, where we’d take a boat back to Winterhaven. Rosie ordered me and Amelia to the backseat of the car, then slid in after us, which put Dylan up front with the driver. Amelia was pressed to my side, but she held herself stiff, like she couldn’t relax. The air between us was awkward in a way I’d never experienced before. Not even when we’d been cuddled together in our underwear.
