“I’ll remember that for next time.”
“See that you do, Gable.” I glanced at my phone. “Four hours until the ceremony. What’s next on the crisis list?”
“We need final approval on the place card display, the DJ wants to review the timing for the special dances, and Manny’s mother is having second thoughts about her speech.”
“I’ll take the DJ and the mother. You handle the caterer.” I moved away, then turned back. “Oh, and Hudson?”
“Hmm?”
“You look good today.” I let my eyes trail down his perfectly tailored navy suit. “Really good.”
A faint flush colored his cheeks, and I silently congratulated myself. Making Hudson Gable blush had become my favorite new hobby.
“Focus, sweetheart,” he said, but his eyes darkened in a way that made my stomach flip. It seemed he had a new favorite hobby too. “We have a wedding to pull off.”
“I’m multi-talented. I can focus on the wedding and on how much I want to rip that suit off you later.”
His flush deepened. “Later,” he promised.
By noon, I’d survived three minor crises (a missing boutonniere, a tear in a bridesmaid dress, a photographer with sudden “artistic differences” about the first look location), consumed two more coffees, and somehow texted Anica throughout. She’d asked for updates on the day of the wedding when I had time. Of course, she more than anyone should’ve known that time was the scarcest resource on wedding days. Still, she was my business partner, and she was understandably anxious about this particular wedding.
I stood in the kitchen coordinating with the catering staff when Hudson found me.
“Hide me,” he muttered, positioning himself behind my back like a six-foot-something man could somehow become invisible.
“What are you, twelve?” I laughed, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“My parents have arrived and are critiquing the table settings. Apparently, the salad forks are ‘disappointingly modern.’”
I winced. “Ouch. The horror.”
“You joke, but my mother once made a venue coordinator cry over napkin folds.”
“Wow. She sounds fun at parties. Maybe she and Ani would get along. Ani likes making people cry too.”
“They probably would be best friends in no time.”
“Then they must never meet. I’m the only best friend Ani gets.”
“Isn’t she married?”
“Cal doesn’t count. He’s a guy.” I studied his face, noting the tension around his eyes. “Does it bother you? That they’re here? I could ask them to leave.”
He hesitated, and I could almost see him weighing his answer.
“Yes,” he finally admitted. “And no. I want them to see what we’ve created. I want them to understand why I left California.” He reached for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. “But I’m also... worried.”
“About what?”
Again, that hesitation. “About their not seeing what I see.”
I squeezed his hand. “Hey. What they think doesn’t matter. This wedding is going to be perfect, and it’s because of us. Both of us.”
He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Hudson,” I said, waiting until his eyes met mine. “We’re good at this. Together, we’re really fucking good at this.”
That earned me a genuine smile. “We are, aren’t we?”
