We turn to see a shiny blue Audi pulling into the parking area. I don’t know why I expect to see a dude wearing a chef’s hat and an apron, but Sean Bracelyn just wears regular street clothes and a smile that gets bigger when his gaze lands on Amber. She watches him come up the walkway, and it’s like they’re the only two people in the world. The connection between them is electric, and the zaps of energy hit me from ten feet away.
There’s a dreamy smile on Sarah’s face, and I wonder if she’s noticing it, too.
“Hey, hot stuff.” Amber laughs as Sean sweeps her up into his arms and fixes her with an uber-passionate kiss.
“Hello, beautiful wife.”
“You goof,” Amber says, laughing as she peers at us over his shoulder. “We’re not married yet, for the record.”
“I just like saying wife.” Sean plants another kiss on her, and even my cold, dented heart gets a little mushy.
Sarah’s expression is wistful, and there’s a twist of guilt in my chest.
“Sorry about that,” Sean says, turning back to us with his arm around Amber’s waist. “Hadn’t seen my lovely bride-to-be for ages.”
Amber glances at her watch. “Two hours and thirty-seven minutes.”
Sean grins and shakes hands with Sarah and me. “So you’re the emergency rehearsal dinner couple, right?”
Sarah tucks her hair behind her ear. “That’s technically my friend Cassie and her fiancé, but we’re checking it out for them.”
I gesture toward the jagged, snow-capped mountains on the horizon. “Those views, though. They’re making me think this wouldn’t be a bad spot for our wedding.”
“Our—oh.” Sarah cocks her head. “You’re thinking a real wedding, then?”
It dawns on me that we haven’t talked about this yet. We’ve been so caught up in the legal logistics that we’ve never once spoken about the ceremony, or even if we’ll have one.
“Only if you want that,” I tell her, aware that Sean and Amber are watching us with matching expressions of curiosity. “We can just do a courthouse thing if you’d rather.”
Sarah sweeps her gaze over the mountains, and I wonder what’s running through her head. “I did always think I’d get married outside. A forest or a farm or a lake somewhere.”
“Sounds beautiful,” I tell her. “Unless you want to do it in December. Then it sounds like frostbite.”
Sarah smiles and glances down at our intertwined fingers. “Definitely summer. And definitely in Oregon. Destination weddings always seem so elitist.”
“June and July book up fast at most venues,” Amber puts in helpfully. “I take it you two haven’t been engaged very long?”
“Only a couple weeks,” I say. “We’re still adjusting to the idea of getting married.”
Sarah tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind one ear. “We haven’t started to work out the logistics yet.”
“You’ve got time,” Amber says with the confidence of a woman who has planned dozens of weddings. “And honestly, it’s not the wedding that matters in the long run. It’s the marriage.”
“And the honeymoon,” Sean adds, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from his bride-to-be.
But the look she gives him is pure love. An adoration so fierce it’s palpable. Part of me envies them.
But a bigger part of me knows the risks of what they’re doing. How infatuation burns bright at first and then flames into jealousy, contempt, hurt.
I glance back at Sarah, and this time I’m sure that’s a wistful expression. She must feel me watching her, because she meets my eyes and smiles. “It takes all kinds of relationships to make marriages work,” she says.
“Very true.”
Will ours be enough for her? Will friendship and sex and respect and companionship keep her happy in ways soul-crushing love couldn’t possibly?
I sure as hell hope so.
I hope it for both our sakes.
