“I’m just glad I don’t have to have the conversation with you about what to expect on your wedding night anymore.” I snicker.
“Layla!”
I can only imagine the look of horror on my sister’s face.
“I said I don’t have to. Calm down, sis. Sheesh, you’re acting like you’re not getting any.”
“I’m going to hang up on you.”
“Listen, you enjoy your night with Blake. I’ve got a hot Brit waiting for me.”
We say goodbye and I do one more spin in front of the mirror.
Every minute I haven’t been working on Gemma’s dress or in the store, I’ve been with Simon.
And every day that inches closer to the wedding is also that much closer to when Simon will leave.
Once he does? My fate will be decided.
I only hope that what we’ve done will be good enough for this town.
I can’t think about that now. Not tonight. I want to enjoy my time with Simon.
The buzzer to the downstairs door goes off. Sticking my phone in my leggings pocket, I bounce down the stairs and throw the door open.
Simon makes my skin prickle with awareness. Dressed in a black T-shirt, jacket, and joggers, he’s as casual as I am. A blanket and small cooler sit on the ground at his feet. I was busy working most of the day, mailing off more packages to Bri who’s buying everything I share with her. Even then, it surprised me how much I missed Simon.
“Looks like what they say is true.”
“Oh yeah?” Simon pushes his sunglasses up, showing me those forest-green eyes of his. “What do they say, love?”
“That married couples start acting alike. I guess that means dressing alike too.”
“Good thing you’re my fiancée then.” He leans down, giving me a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ve got something for you.”
He hands me a small bag.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
I give him a side-eye as I pull out the tissue paper. My breath catches in my throat as I pull out a heart made of spools of thread.
“You said roses aren’t your thing.”
“Simon…this is… Wow.”
Brad always brought me roses. No matter how many times I told him I didn’t like them, he never listened. One comment to Simon and he brings me something that shows more care and thought than my ex-husband ever showed me.
“You like it?”
I crush my lips to his, pouring everything into it. “I love it.”
“If you’re ever in a bind and need more thread, you can always tap into it.”
I shake my head. “Never.” I set it on the small table in the entryway. I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I’ll always cherish this.
“Now, Miss Winchester. Ready for our date?”
