“I’d be happy to spin you as many times as you’d like.”
Britt’s mom and dad swept past. She could tell that her mom had just said something witty because her dad gave a low, appreciative chuckle. Corbin whispered into Willow’s ear, and her oldest sister blushed in response. Nora rested her head against John’s chest as the two moved to the beat of the song. Nikki and Clint ambled by, Nikki’s fingertips pressing five dents into the shoulder of his suit jacket.
Despite Britt’s efforts to shore up Clint’s confidence, he still hadn’t gathered enough nerve to take Nikki out on a date. The pep talk she’d given him about asking Nikki to dance had achieved greater success, however, which made her feel as self-satisfied as a cotillion parent.
When Britt had told Nikki that Clint was gun-shy about romance because of his first love’s unfaithfulness, Nikki had grown even more determined to win the battle for Clint’s heart. Clint and Nikki had attended more Pilates classes, and Nikki had stopped by the inn a few times to deliver kombucha, his favorite drink, to him while he worked.
Britt fully expected to have them well on their way to lovebird status within the next two weeks.
She gave the flower girl another spin.
Nora’s reception venue had been designed by a protégé of Frank Lloyd Wright. This enormous space—with its three walls of windows and honey-toned wood floors—had once housed its owner’s collection of antique cars.
For dinner, Britt had been seated at a table with Zander, Grandma, Valentina, Valentina’s husband, Clint, Nikki, and Grandma’s sister. Zander had been perfectly polite to her and everyone else at the table. Conversation had bubbled easily. He had not, however, beennormal. He was trying too hard. The ongoing weirdness persisted between them.
Until recently, their friendship had seemed sturdy to her, broad and reliable, like a boardwalk. Only now did she realize that their friendship may have been more like a two-inch-wide balance beamall along. Or perhaps ithadbeen a boardwalk before. And had become a narrow beam when they’d kissed.
While eating hors d’oeuvres, she’d struggled to pay attention to anything other than Zander’s hand, maneuvering his fork. While eating salad, she’d tried not to notice the spicy scent of his cologne. While eating steak, she’d caught herself peering at his profile.
The song ended and the flower girl scampered to her mom. Britt still couldn’t spot Zander, and his absence was beginning to make her edgy. He hadn’t left yet, surely? Parties drained him. Most likely, he’d retreated outside for a breather.
Britt returned to her table to scoop up her coat, then slipped outdoors.
A stone pathway lit by magical lanterns took her past a pond dotted with lily pads in bloom. Rivers of dianthus, forget-me-nots, and poppies surged against jade lawns. Night wind gusted against her, and she thrust her arms into the sleeves of her dressy black wool coat.
Like at the ceremony earlier, she searched for Zander more by feel than by sight. The quality of the atmosphere altered slightly, and she left the path—
There. He was sitting on a bench at the far side of a small circle of grass rimmed by trees.
Thanks to the landscape lighting that provided gold-toned illumination from above and below, she could discern the details of his features as she neared. What she saw there caused her breath to jam up.
He was watching her with a look of raw honesty. It was a look that spoke of resolution and vulnerability.
And in that moment, before a word had been spoken, she comprehended that they’d fallen off their balance beam for good. And that nothing would ever be exactly as it had been again.
Wedding toast from John to Nora:
Nora, your courage humbles me. Your intelligence challengesme to be the man you deserve. Your faith makesmine stronger. Your laugh is my favorite sound. Your optimismbrings light to dark places. Your dreams convince me tohope. Your love takes my breath away.
I feel incredibly fortunate to be your husband.
I love you.
Chapter
eighteen
Did the introvert in you need a vacation from the party?” Britt sometimes preferred to ease into difficult conversations the way she eased into too-hot bath water. Slowly.
“I don’t have the stamina for that many hours of socializing in a row.”
“I know.” She sat next to Zander on the bench. They gazed at the garden while the things they weren’t saying gathered shape and mass.
“I’m overly protective of you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come down on you the way I did for changing your plans that night at the club and leaving with Reid.”
“I shouldn’t have changed my plans after I’d been drinking.”
“I should have resisted the urge to lecture you.”
