She nods like she understands, but it’s not her I’m paying attention to.
It’s the look in my mother’s eye that she’s always given me whenever I brush off dating.
Pity.
But she, twice divorced, understands better than anyone why I can’t date. She’s the same way I am. She’s also given up on love.
“I suppose that makes sense. Maybe you can get together with him sometime afterward? I’ll tell Brian to pass on your information.”
“I’ll do whatever she asks,” he says from the grill, lifting his tongs into the air like a salute of sorts.
I grin. If anyone would make me want to be in love again, it would be those two, but I know just how mean the Chambers curse can be, so I don’t. I don’t want love. I just want to help others find their happily ever afters. I might not get my own, but damn, it feels good to be part of someone else’s story ... even if things don’t always go the way I hope. It’s still nice to bask in the happiness, if only for a short while.
A wave of worry hits me once again. Am I doing the right thing in helping Izzy with her wedding? The curse has already affected so many of my clients. Do I truly want to pass that bad juju on to my best friend?
Stop, Odette. It’s not the curse. It’s not you. Izzy will be fine.
I exhale a breath just as Izzy and Noah stumble back onto the deck, laughing like they weren’t just about to maim each other inside.
“Nice glasses,” Brian remarks to his son. He exchanges a glance with his wife. They say a lot without speaking a word, and again, I’m envious of them.
I push that feeling deep down, along with all the doubt clawing at me, sip on my Bellini, and spend the rest of the evening pretending that I didn’t want Noah Stevens to kiss me.
Chapter Seven
Noah
I was going to kiss Odette.
My lips were a mere inch away from hers. All I had to do was lean in just a bit closer, and they would have collided. I would have finally learned if all that sass she gives off makes her taste sweet or salty.
My money is still on sweet, but I’ll never get the chance to find out because my sister ruined the moment.
I’m as pissed as I am relieved, especially since I shouldn’t want to kiss her at all.
Yet . . . I do.
I wish I could say running into a door and messing up my face because of her turned me off, but that’d be a lie. If anything, it’s gotten worse. She’s been on my mind more often than not these last two days, and not just because every time my face aches, I think of her.
It’s more than that, but I can’t seem to place my finger on what thatmoreis.
Still, I won’t be crossing our carefully placed lines, no matter how enticing they are.
“Pass me that plate, will you?”
My dad’s words knock me out of my stupor, and I reach for the serving dish and hand it to him.
“Thanks, kid,” he says as if I’m not a grown-ass man. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, Pops. Why do you ask?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Those silly damn sunglasses covering what I know is most definitely not a work accident, for one.”
“Just don’t want to worry Mom, you know?”
He nods. I’m sure he understands. She might be a little desensitized thanks to all the horror stories from his years as a doctor, but I’m her son. It’s different.
“Probably smart. Just make sure your sister gets those shades back. I don’t feel like hearing about how you stole them for the next ... oh, gosh, how long has it been since you took her Taylor Swift CD? We still haven’t heard the end of that.”
