“Um.”
“If it’s about Adalyn’s bachelorette party, I actually had some questions for you.”
“Yeah?”Crap.
“Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll get us two coffees, and we can go over the final details.”
Discomfort made me begin to overheat. I needed to cancel the party, not have coffee to discuss it. While Miles strode toward the fancy chrome coffee machine behind the bar, I shrugged out of my coat and took a seat.
The scent of ground beans filled the brick and wood space, mixing with the aroma of baking bread.
I texted Nate:Is it weird if we still do Adalyn’s bachelorette at Seoul Sister?
It didn’t have to be weird, right?
Miles’s shoulder blades bunched up the fabric of his white T-shirt that contrasted sharply with his smooth olive skin. No wolf blood ran through his veins, and yet, come snow or shine, the guy wore a short-sleeved shirt. It did quite nice things to his biceps. I placed my elbows on the bar and cradled my chin as he slid one mug beneath the sleek spout, then replaced it with another.
Nope, Nikki. Don’t go there. You were almost family. You might stillbefamily.
I shifted my attention to the bronze birdcage lights hanging around the room, each of them containing a different avian species. Apparently, it was these lights which had brought Bea and Miles’s parents together. Mrs. Park had designed them for a fancy hotel in Seoul in which her now-husband had stayed. He’d become so enamored with the idiosyncratic lights, he’d asked to meet the artist.
My phone chirped, drawing my gaze down.
NATE:Not weird.:)
Relief spread through me. Not only did Inothave to change venues, but I didn’t have to try to find an excuse as to why I couldn’t host it here.
I unlinked my fingers and sent him back:Thanks. How you holding up?
NATE:Been better.
ME:Are you at the bunker?
NATE:Yes.
I decided to stop by and check up on him on my way home. I flipped my phone over as Miles took the seat next to mine, his knee jostling my still slightly sore one.
“Sorry.” He palmed my bumped joint. “I think I hit your bad leg.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled, but then my smile wavered, because he hadn’t removed his hand yet. I shifted my legs to the side, which knocked his hand off. “So, what do we need to go over?”
“The meal. Did you want platters of appetizers, plus some entrées to share?”
“Yes.”
He jotted it down on a sheet of paper scribbled over with Bea’s handwriting, the scratching of the lead tip the only noise in the restaurant. “Okay. And Bea wrote something about a cake.” His mouth quirked as he read what his sister had written. “Penis-shaped, correct?”
I sank into my chair. “Yes?”
His chocolate eyes met mine, sparkling with mirth. “What flavor? Vanilla or chocolate?”
I cleared my throat. “Vanilla with pink frosting.”
He scrawled it down, a smile still dancing on his lips. “And balloons. You want golden BRIDE TO BE, right? Any other shape? Maybe some to match your cake?”
I palmed both my heating cheeks. “Discussing this waswayless awkward with your sister.”
He glanced up from the list. This time, a chuckle escaped him. He leaned back in his chair. “Wait till I ask Mom to help me frost the cake.”
