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Mine to Promise (Southern Wedding #6)(83)

Author:Natasha Madison

“And one was navy blue.” Presley rolls her lips. “We told the couple she was color-blind.”

Shelby gasps. “Is that why the groom kept telling me what the colors were of the flowers in front of me?” she asks. “He would even say, ‘that is a nice blue shirt you have on,’” she mimics the man, and for the first time in four days, I laugh.

“After hearing this”—I motion with my hand in a circle—“I think I’ll be okay.”

“Color-blind?” Shelby ignores what I just said. “Incredible.”

“What were we supposed to say?” Clarabella asks us. “You were a mess.”

“I was not!” Shelby shouts to them.

“You showed up with your hair unbrushed and thought you had the amazing beach waves. The back of your head was a rat’s nest,” Presley shares.

“I’m not talking to you two,” Shelby pouts, turning around and looking at me. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“I believe you,” I pacify her, nodding my head, and she flips me off, and again, I can’t help but laugh.

I’m about to answer her when the phone rings. I answer it, and the three of them go to their offices. No one comes back out to talk to me and I have a bride and groom who come in the afternoon to discuss their upcoming wedding. The three of us sit down and go over every single detail. I fly out of the office a little past four o’clock, and I’m only a couple of minutes late picking up Avery.

She talks the whole way home, reminding me about her memories from San Francisco. It feels like I have a whole weight of the world on my shoulders. I grab her hand and start walking to the front door when I hear Avery shriek beside me. “Dad!” she yells, letting my hand go and running to Stefano, who squats down enough to catch her.

“There she is,” he says, grabbing her under her armpits and pulling her toward him. “I missed you,” he tells her, then looks up at me.

I smile at him, trying to fight the lump in my throat. My feet make it to them. “Hi,” I greet him awkwardly, holding my hand up.

“Hi,” he replies softly, twisting his body to lean down and kiss my cheek.

“Are you surprised?” he asks me, then looks at Avery. “I missed you so much I came right back.”

I put my hand to my stomach, and I swear to God, I think I’m going to be sick all over the grass.

“Why don’t we get into my car and go have dinner at the house?” he suggests to Avery, who is very okay with this plan.

“You can just take Avery, and the two of you can have some alone time,” I cut in, not sure I’m able to have this conversation right now.

He looks at me for a second and then back at Avery. “Or we can stay here.”

I guess he really wants to get his ducks in a row before he leaves, I think to myself. “Okay, I’ll follow you in my car, then,” I say to him, and he just looks at me, not sure what to say.

“Dad.” Avery uses her hands to turn his face. “Remember the puppy that licked my face?”

“Yes.” Stefano nods his head as we turn, and he walks to his car, looking over at me. “You’ll follow me?”

“Yup.” I nod at him, turning to walk to my car. Sitting back in my car, I follow him to his house. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous, not even when I had to tell my parents I was pregnant. I park beside him, and Avery gets out of the car and goes into the house, as if she lives here, which—I mean

—she will some days.

He opens the front door and she kicks off her shoes. “I’m going to play in my room,” she states. I want to tell her to stay there because I’m a chickenshit and I know deep down inside, I don’t want to have this conversation. But instead, I kick off my shoes and follow him into the house.

“Do you want pizza for dinner?” he asks me over his shoulder, and I nod my head.

“Sounds good,” I say, walking into the house and going to sit on the couch. I sit at the edge of the cushion while Stefano places the order on his phone.

He comes into the living room, stopping midway to the couch. “Is there something going on?” he asks me, unsure.

I look at him and do a fake smile. I know it’s a fake smile, he knows it’s a fake smile. “Listen, I think we need to talk.”

“We do,” he agrees, coming over and sitting down next to me. The nerves in my stomach crawl their way to my throat.

My neck suddenly becomes like a heater. “I get it,” I say the words. “I understand.”

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