I inch closer and smirk. “What exactly did you have in mind? For things to do until I go?”
“Oh, future wife. I’ve got ideas.” His voice lowers, all mysterious.
I giggle at the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
His arm comes around, and he pulls me close. All my remaining tension seeps away. Attraction ignites, burning between us. It’s always there, simmering, waiting like I’m kerosene and he’s the spark.
“Future wife,” I say, right before his lips meet mine. “I like the sound of that.”
2
Tuesday, December 10
14 days until the wedding
Jenny
Stop fidgeting,” Dean hisses out of the side of his mouth. His lips are pursed in an angry scowl while his gaze remains firmly planted on Caleb’s back.
Ignoring him, I twirl my curly dark-brown hair around one finger. I spent a long time this morning straightening and then curling it into my favorite style. My watch says it’s 11:00 a.m. I get busy taking notes and shooting an occasional photo. The camera clicks as I capture the line of fans who stretch out the theater’s double doors and onto the ice-slicked Manhattan sidewalk. They huddle in bulky jackets and fuzzy earmuffs as their breath clouds the air in little white puffs. Many of them have brightly wrapped presents tucked under their elbows.
Caleb’s giving out autographs today, a publicity event put on by the Broadway theater where he performs several times a week. This signing is holiday-themed, with staff handing out complimentary scarves that come in one of three choices: a grinning Santa, a snowman with a black top hat, or a red-nosed reindeer. Caleb wears the Santa scarf. I straightened it for him earlier, making sure the rosy-cheeked St. Nick was clearly displayed.
I stand in the theater lobby and press my eye to the viewfinder to capture an older woman as she hands Caleb a large box with a big blue bow. Heopens it to find a handmade quilt featuring all of his movie posters. I can’t imagine how long it took to make something so beautiful. Caleb gives the fan a one-armed hug and grins while she grabs a selfie with her cell phone.
To everyone else, he looks happy, but I’ve spent enough time around him to know he’s acting. Before the fans arrived and he plastered on that false grin, he’d been subdued, reserved. Not his normal self at all. He’s been that way ever since he dropped Gwen off at the airport this morning. It’s like he can’t shine quite as bright without her light to channel.
I understand. Gwen’s been my best friend since sixth grade. I love her just as much as he does.
My phone rings. I pull it out and peer at the tiny screen. My stomach lurches when I see the incoming call labeled “Butthead.” Not in the mood to talk to him, I silence my cell and put it away. A quick glance around shows no one’s paying attention to me. I reach into my pocket and retrieve a sugar-free butterscotch candy. The wrapper makes a crinkling sound when I untwist the ends. I pop it into my mouth and hum quietly as it melts on my tongue. When I bite into it, the candy makes a loud crunch, which earns me a glare from Dean.
The crowd continues to inch forward. Every time the doors open to allow the next person in, an icy breeze enters with them. Out on the street, people stomp frozen feet and blow breath-warmed air onto their hands. These fans must really adore Caleb to be out in weather like this. On the drive over, the radio said we’ve got a bad storm heading our way.
“Caleb,” I call over and get his attention, “hold up that quilt.”
He obliges. I take a photo using my heavy-duty professional camera and then another quick shot with my cell phone. The second picture I send to Gwen, who should still be at the airport.
Jenny: Check out what some lady made your fiancé.
Gwen: Wow. Amazing. What scarf is Caleb wearing?
Jenny: Santa. I got one, too.
Gwen: I want to see.
I shoot a selfie and check it to make sure my reindeer scarf is visible. My light-brown eyes stare back from the photo, tinged red from the flash. A couple of dark, springy curls hang over my forehead, and the rest of my long hair tumbles over my shoulders. I send it to Gwen.
Gwen: Cute scarf. I like it!
Jenny: Of course you do, you Christmas-loving freak.
Gwen: It’s true. Plane’s boarding. Tell Caleb I love him forever and always. Love ya, too.
Jenny: Love you. Travel safe.
I make a mental note to grab a scarf for Gwen before I leave. The snowman, so between her, Caleb, and me, we’ll have the complete set. I smile, picturing how it’ll complement her long, blonde hair and pretty, light-blue eyes. It was no surprise to me when Caleb fell for her. Gwen’s got outer beauty, that effortless California girl look, but even more she has inner beauty with her kind heart, so loyal and caring.
The crowd moves forward. A kid, about six years old, standing in line, holds his mom’s hand and stares blankly ahead, bored. When he glances my way, I cross my eyes and stick my tongue out the side of my mouth. A delighted smile spreads over the little boy’s face. He imitates me. Next, I suck in my cheeks and blink comically, giving him my best fish impression. Soon, the boy and I are giggling, trading funny faces with each other.
