“Let me see,” Taylor said.
With trembling hands, Kate lifted a white square from the creamy tissue, the cloth delicately embroidered all over with tiny blue flowers.
“It’s a handkerchief,” Tess said unnecessarily. She cleared her throat. “My mother-in-law gave it to me to carry on my wedding day. I thought... Something old?”
“And borrowed,” Meg said.
“And blue!” Taylor bounded on the couch cushions.
Kate raised her face, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I love it. I love you.”
Tess caught her in a warm embrace. “We love you, too, sweetheart. Welcome to the family.”
“Where is Kate’s mother?” Lauren murmured to Alisha.
Alisha rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”
My mother would be here. The thought was oddly comforting.
After that, there were more tears, more laughter, more champagne.
Marriage, Lauren thought later as they all snuggled on the couch, on the floor, to watch the movie.Is what brings us together.
Alisha was right. It was almost enough to make her want to take the risk on an actual relationship.
Lauren hugged a sofa pillow to her empty chest. But was Jack interested in taking a risk on her?
Twelve
LAUREN SNUGGLED INTOthe couch cushions. The movie was almost over. She should go upstairs and work. For the first time in months, the thought didn’t bring the hot tightening in her chest, the greasy ball of panic in her stomach.
Shewantedto work. Recharged by her break, she could feel her energy returning, her thoughts mustering, like static electricity buzzing against her skin.
In the hall, the grandfather clock struck midnight. The chimes mingled with the noise from the TV, the sound of running footsteps as Inigo Montoya chased the six-fingered man through the halls of the castle.
Taylor hugged Kate’s arm against her chest. “I love this part,” she whispered.
“Was that the door?” Tess asked.
Lauren blinked, confused. On TV? Or...
Meg stirred from the couch. “I’ll get it.”
Voices rumbled from the kitchen. Kate kissed the top of Taylor’s head—such a sweet and natural gesture, such a mom thing to do, that Lauren’s heartstrings twanged—and got up.
Lauren rolled her head on the back of the couch to watch Kate cross the kitchen.
Two men stood at the back door, the first tall and blond and muscular, as if Westley the Farm Boy had done serious gym time. Lauren watched Kate go up on tiptoe to kiss him. This must be the bridegroom, then. Luke Fletcher.
The other... Lauren’s heart beat a quick tattoo.
If Luke was the classic movie hero, Jack was... Well, he was no Prince Charming. Against Luke’s tall, golden, easy gorgeousness, he looked dark, compact, and dangerous, a star collapsed upon itself, a black hole exuding stunning gravity. The pleasant buzz of the evening transmuted to a different kind of excitement, electrifying all her limbs, running through her veins like quicksilver.
She met his gaze. Connection arced and sparked in the space between them. Her fingertips tingled. She wanted to jump off the sofa and fly to him.
Like a bug to a bug zapper.
She shivered. Not a reassuring image.
