“I’m thinking green,” he says.
“What?” I ask. Gavin takes my question as an invitation to sit down at the table. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying on more pants? Ones that fit?”
“She’s distracted,” he says, and I glance back to see the shop owner on the phone.
Of course.
“We aren’t doing green,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, pulling the board of swatches closer to him.
I click my tongue and pull them back. “Because green won’t look good against the mountains.”
“Why not? They’re covered in green pines,” he says, moving it in his direction again.
“Exactly,” I say, tugging it again. “We need contrast.”
“So do a lighter green,” he says, leaning back in his chair and giving me a full view of his eight, erm, twelve pack.
“Green isn’t…it doesn’t work,” I say.
“Did Holly tell you that?” he asks.
“No. I’m tellingyouthat,” I say, blinking multiple times like it’ll help erase the visions of his body from my memory. I think it’s just making them clearer. His abs are more defined.
“I like this one,” he says, pointing at a green that shouldn’t even be on the board. Heck, it shouldn’t even be a color at all.
“You’re joking,” I chuckle and roll my eyes.
“No, I’m serious. It’s cool. It’s called olive,” he smiles.
“It’s pea green,” I say in disgust.
“No. It’solive.”
“It’s gross. It’s going to be very difficult to match another color to. It’s going to be difficult to matchanythingin the wedding to,” I say.
“You make it sound like difficult is a bad thing,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine. I ignore whatever that was supposed to mean.
“We’re doing blush or rose, but notolive,” I say with absolution.
“Roseandolive,” he says.
“No, just rose,” I say.
“For the men, too?” He fights back. “I thought weddings usually had two colors.”
“They do, but olive is not going to be one of them.”
“I think that should be up to Holly and Ben, don’t you?” Gavin’s stubborn gaze meets mine, but I match it. For a moment it’s a staring contest until Holly and Ben walk in.
“Well, look at you two!” Holly says, bending down to give me a hug.
“Dad, where’s your shirt?” Ben asks with a funny smile. His eyes meet mine for a split second before he looks away.
“We’re working on that,” Gavin waves it off. “Maybe you can help us with something.”
“Did you figure out the color scheme?” Holly asks.
