“No,” I said under my breath. “Please don’t.”
* * *
The next morning at the Greenes’ estate, tables had been set under the arches of a covered patio. The buffet featured carafes of orange juice, platters of sausage, eggs, and bacon, a waffle and pancake station, and bowls of powdered-sugared fruit. It was like a spread straight out of a bridal magazine, if they were to feature the morning-after festivities.
“Liv, grab the champagne?” Lucy asked as she carried a stack of plates to one end of the buffet.
“On it,” I said and entered the kitchen just as David did the same from the opposite doorway.
“Morning,” he said, sporting a too small striped polo and high-water khakis. I raised an eyebrow at his outfit, and he smiled awkwardly. “Courtesy of Andrew’s ‘tall’ brother, as everyone keeps calling him.”
I gave a shallow nod and ducked by him to the refrigerator, infuriatingly conscious of his body heat despite the dopey clothing.
He cleared his throat. “We didn’t finish our conversation from last night.”
I yanked open the heavy refrigerator door and searched for the champagne. “I think we did. The idea is that we move on.”
“Move on,” he echoed.
“Yep.”
“Olivia.”
I leaned back to look at him from the other side of the door. We stared at each other a moment until I started laughing.
His eyebrows knit as he studied me. “What?”
“I can’t take you seriously in that outfit.” I grasped a cold bottle of champagne by its neck and shut the door.
David appeared, his lips quirked into a mocking smile. “Can’t take me seriously?” he echoed. “Do I have to find a way to make you?”
He leaned in, backing me against the refrigerator, but two could play at this game. I stepped forward, under his nose, trying to appear calm, even though my heart thudded in my chest. “Make me take you seriously . . . how?”
“It’s a tactic I can’t really explain.” His gaze fixed on my mouth and proceeded slowly downward. When his eyes jumped back to mine, he said, “I’d have to show you.”
I fidgeted with the foil over the cork of the champagne, pulling it free. “Show me?” I repeated, my voice raspier than normal, low. It didn’t matter what he wore—David was all man and not a little intimidating as he towered over me.
My breath caught, my hands stilling as he leaned in. Tilted his head. Lowered his mouth.
And took the bottle from my hands before straightening up again.
Gretchen’s head poked through the screen door. “Hurry up, Liv. We need that for the mimosas.” She looked between the two of us.
“We’ll be right there,” David said without turning around. He twisted the cork, and it freed with a loud pop.
“Um, no, everyone is waiting on you.” Gretchen shot him a piercing look. “Come on, move it.”
She held the door open and ushered an irritated-looking David through.
As I followed, Gretchen grasped my arm. “Soon, Olivia. We need to talk about Davidsoon.”
“Fine,” I said, wrenching my arm from her grip.
I filled my plate with whatever was around and took my seat next to Bill, across the table from Lucy and her family. Dani’s still-curled brown hair looked as flawless in a ponytail as her pale skin against a soft pink cashmere sweater.
“What time do you guys leave tonight?” Andrew’s mom asked Lucy, gently cutting a pancake into squares.
“Late,” Lucy said. “We’re sleeping on the plane so we’ll be fresh for Paris.”
