He lifted a shoulder. “Not as much as I want you to be happy.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Jack.”
“Really, it’s fine. We’ll do a champagne toast under it after the ceremony. It’s fine, Cin.”
She closed her eyes.
“You really want to fight her on this?” he asked.
“No, I really want to find the words to tell you how much I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you, too. Now, get Cameron.”
On a sigh, she turned, practically walking into Dominique, who arched one judgmental brow. “There’s a lot to be said for a man like that,” she muttered.
The comment surprised Cindy. “I know. He’s awesome.”
“He’s a sexy silver fox who will photograph well,” she said with a wink. “Big points for your cute little lodge.”
Cindy forced a smile and walked away.
Cindy stoodat the back of the Starling Room, peering out the window to glimpse the black SUV fishtail a little in the slush before righting itself and gliding down the long, pine-flanked drive.
Silence fell over the lodge like fresh snow. Not quiet—there was the hum of the heating system, the soft clink of mugs in the kitchen, a distant whinny from Copper after a sleigh full of people climbed off and headed inside.
But mostly, she sank into the sound of…no one named Dominique Parrish. That woman was?—
“Hey.” Jack’s hand brushed Cindy’s back. “I thought I’d find you here.”
She turned to him, not surprised he’d found her. It was like he had radar when she was upset. He leaned to kiss the top of herhead, the way he always did when he could sense her composure was tearing at the seams.
“You okay?”
“No,” she said, honest and light in the same breath. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“Pick one,” he teased gently.
She turned to look around them, seeing the empty chairs squared into tidy rows, the sweep of glass gleaming around the mountains, the ghost of the trellis.
The platform looked naked without it. There was so much room suddenly—room for air, light, and doubt.
“I can’t believe you moved it,” she whispered, an ache pressing behind her sternum. “I know how much you wanted it there.”
He shrugged, playing it off, but she felt the little ripple of unease under his calm. “Just did what had to be done.”
“Still.” Her voice caught. “Thank you.”
MJ appeared in the doorway, cheeks pink from the kitchen’s heat and the guests she’d just plied with cookies and cocoa.
“Did the royal motorcade leave?” she asked.
“Not one minute too soon,” Jack said gravely.
MJ looked around with cautious hope, and her shoulders dropped at the sight of the empty platform. “So, the rumors are true.”
Cindy braced for disappointment—MJ loved that trellis, too—but her sister’s eyes grew soft and bright at once, and she nodded slowly.
“That was brave,” she said, looking at Jack. “I know what it means.”
