Finally, he handed me the phone. “Just—remember. Themed wedding.”
I grabbed it a little too quickly. Whether it was out of impatience or excitement, I wasn’t sure.
I looked down and froze.
It was exactly as he’d said. It was a long, skirt-like wrap, worn high at the waist, with matching pieces draped over the shoulders.
The whole band in the picture was dressed the same, standing in front of a venue awash in white and gold. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the theme, but one thing was clear.
Gold. So much gold.
What struck me harder, though, was Mark himself.
He looked younger there. Leaner. Still unmistakably him, but different.
His shoulders were broader now, his arms thicker, chest fuller beneath his shirt.
I tried not to imagine how that gold fabric would look on him now. Against his tan skin. The way it would move if he walked toward me, toward the bed. The way he’d untie it, let it fall away?—
I coughed loudly and shoved the phone back at him.
“Nope,” I said quickly. “Absolutely not. We are not wearing that. It’s ridiculous.”
Mark burst out laughing. “Relax. I wasn’t seriously considering it.”
“And it’s freezing,” I added. “You’d die.”
“I brought it for laughs,” he said, still smiling.
I laughed too, the last of the tension draining out of me. The fact that he’d gone through the trouble of bringing options, even absurd ones, hit me then.
My gaze drifted back to the silver jacket.
“That one, though,” I said slowly, “I could probably find something similar. Maybe in a thrift store or something.”
Mark tilted his head. “Actually, I might be able to get someone from my old band to send one over.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll ask around.”
“If you can do that,” I said, nodding, “then I think we’re set.”
“Then I’ll start asking,” he said easily.
I glanced once more at the gold fabric, cleared my throat, and deliberately shoved any lingering thoughts back where they belonged.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
I reached for my guitar, fingers settling naturally along the neck. “Let’s practice.”
Mark smiled, bright and steady, and picked up his own.
11
MARK
The town park looked different that night. It looked transformed.
