“Hi, Haven.” I hastily grab a paper towel and dry my hands. My cheeks are burning, and for some stupid reason, I want to cry. Will Durban be upset? No one’s supposed to know. What if he’s embarrassed to be sneaking around with me? He’s going to care what Haven thinks.
“Nice balls you got there, but uh, what’s going on?”
The oven beeps and I wince.
“Does Durban know you’re here?”
“Yes.” I scowl. Does he think I’m a hungry stalker?
“Well, that part’s a relief.”
Is Haven’s disapproval going to end everything? If I have to finish this damn wedding after getting rejected by Durban, that’s just a cruel joke.
He pushes off the doorframe. “Don’t let me stop you. Durban owes me a meal anyway.”
He crosses to the sink and I scoot over. I can’t help the feeling that he’s going to kick me out despite being here with his brother’s approval. We’ve always had a good relationship, but that was before Haven realized I’m sleeping with his brother.
“Need some help?” he asks as he scrubs his hands. “Might as well put me to work.”
I’d rather have him busy than asking me more questions I don’t have the answer to. “Do you want to chop some veggies for a salad?”
“I’m allergic to them,” he says soberly.
“Which ones?”
“All of them.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. He’s joking with me. That’s got to be a good sign. He won’t tell Durban he’s made a bad decision, right?
He dries his hands. “I know my way around a salad, and as long as you don’t make me eat it before the meatballs, I’ll chop away.”
My smile dims and the relief pushing through my panic stalls. “Are you okay with this?”
“Not gonna lie, I don’t like cheating.”
I jerk my head back like he slapped me. “They broke up.”
Astonishment passes over his face. “No wonder I caught him whistling when he was doing a wash the other day. He can actually get on with life.” Why wouldn’t Durban tell his brother about Natalie? “You two seeing each other?”
“Sort of, but we’re not telling anyone,” I admit and try to get over my confusion. Is he hoping Natalie willreturn, or that I’ll just be a good but forgettable time? “I don’t want to disrupt the wedding, but this is... helping me get through it.”
He studies me for a moment. “Did you think I was going to run you off?”
“I’m not exactly his type.”
“Clearly you are.”
I open my mouth. Shut it again. I’m not prepared for that response. “Natalie is?—”
“Kind of insufferable.”
Why does a thrill soar through me? I could take flight from it. “She is?”
“Trust me. The breakup is good news. Private fucker didn’t share it with me though.”
Durban is a private man. That clears my cloud of insecurity, just a little.
“She’s his Stanford,” he continues as he digs through the grocery bag of produce I bought. He pulls out bananas, sets them aside, then lines up the head of lettuce, tomato, and cucumbers. “No kale? Or what’s that purple shit?”
