“If you say I’m attracted to him, I will superglue your emergency kit shut and replace all your protein bars with those disgusting keto ones Callan likes,” Mari threatened, pointing a finger at my face. “I have never been less attracted to anyone in my life. He’s a snake in Italian leather shoes who thinks he can just waltz into our territory with his stupid holographic display boards and his ridiculous custom scent diffusers.”
“His booth does smell amazing,” I murmured before I could stop myself.
Mari’s eye twitched. “I’m going to get coffee. Don’t fraternize with the enemy while I’m gone.”
As she stomped away, I caught Mr. Gable watching her retreat, his expression unreadable except for a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth; not quite a smile, more like the look of someone who’d just moved a chess piece exactly where hewanted it. When he noticed me looking, he gave a polite nod before turning back to his client.
I was so distracted by the strange tension between our booths that I didn’t notice Callan until he was right in front of me, looking unfairly handsome in my favorite charcoal suit that made his blue eyes even more striking.
“There she is,” he said, leaning across the display table to peck me on the lips. “The most successful wedding planner in two cities.”
“Three if you count the pop-up in Boston,” I corrected, unable to prevent the smile spreading across my face. After a year of marriage, he still had that effect on me. One look and I was twenty degrees warmer and significantly wetter in places that had no business responding during business hours.
“How’s the expo going?” he asked, glancing around at our setup. “You guys did a great job, even without my help.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Sorry about that. I had that call with–”
“I know. Don’t worry about it,” I said, smiling. “Mari and I kicked ass at this long before you came around to haul heavy boxes.” I beckoned him inside the booth. “And to answer your question, twenty-seven potential clients, two booking deposits, and only one vendor rivalry threatening to escalate into physical violence.”
Callan raised an eyebrow. “Mari?”
“Who else? She’s developed a pathological hatred for the wedding planner next door.” I nodded toward Mr. Gable’s booth. “They’ve been passive-aggressively sabotaging each other all morning.”
“Ah, the guy with the hair.” Callan studied Mr. Gable and shrugged. “Mari mentioned him in approximately fourteen furious texts in the group message. Something about ‘symmetrical features that belong on Mount Rushmore but with the personality of a shark in Gucci loafers.’”
“That’s the one.” I finished arranging a display of sample invitations. “Though I have to admit, his setup is impressive. Those holographic displays showing venue transformations? Genius.”
“Should I be jealous that you’re admiring another man’s... displays?” Callan’s voice dropped to that low register that made my stomach flip and my thighs clench.
“Depends. Are you here to just visit, or did you come with a purpose?”
His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I missed my wife. And I was thinking about what happened the last time we were at a wedding expo together.”
“Cal,” I warned, glancing around to make sure no one could hear us. “We’re working.”
“You know what else we could be doing?” His eyes held that mischievous glint that never failed to short-circuit my professional boundaries. “I saw a supply closet by the south entrance. Locked, but I happen to know how to get a key for fifteen minutes using a hundred dollar bill.”
“Of course you do.” I rolled my eyes even as my pulse quickened.
“So is that a yes? Or a hell yes?”
“I can’t just leave the booth unattended.” I gestured to the displays we’d spent hours perfecting. “And Mari’s getting coffee.”
“What about me?” Mari appeared beside us, clutching a coffee cup and shooting at least three scathing glares at Mr. Gable.
“Callan was just leaving,” I said quickly, ignoring the heat crawling up my neck.
“No, he wasn’t.” Mari’s gaze darted between us, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. She dropped her voice toa whisper. “Oh my god, you two were about to sneak off for wedding expo sex. Seriously? It’s been a year. Aren’t you supposed to be in the ‘comfortable Netflix and sweatpants’ phase by now?”
“Some of us don’t believe in phases,” Callan replied. “And some of us appreciate taking breaks to properly... reconnect with our spouses.”
Mari made a gagging noise. “Get out of here before you contaminate our booth with your marital bliss. I’ve got this covered.” She glanced toward Mr. Gable’s booth and narrowed her eyes. “Besides, I need to keep an eye on Lucifer over there.”
“Be the bigger person,” I advised, even as I gathered my purse.
“Impossible. I’m only five-foot-three and spite is my primary personality trait.” She waved us away. “Go. Fifteen minutes. Any longer and I’ll assume you’ve been kidnapped and call security.”
“Twenty minutes,” I countered.
“Seventeen and I want details later,” Mari bargained.
