I open the door to The Pie Shop and am immediately met with my brother’s voice. “No,” he barks, and at first I think he’s talking to me before I see his green gaze narrowed on Madison. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on!” she says, nudging his knee with her foot under the little folding card table we set up on Saturday nights. “Don’t be such a party pooper.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, joining them at the table.
Emily grins. “Maddie is trying to get Noah to have the whole wedding party do a choreographed dance down the aisle.”
“Not gonna happen,” he says sternly, crossing his arms.
“I already told Amelia, and she said she wanted to do it.”
Noah grunts. “Over my dead body. No way in hell am I going to prance down the aisle to some poppy-gumdrop song. Besides, I know you’re lying. Amelia would never suggest it because she’d know it would give me ulcers just thinking about it.”
“Ha! Pay up!” Emily shouts, extending her hands to Maddie. Em grins at Noah. “Maddie bet me twenty bucks she could persuade you to say yes to a dance mob.” She cuts her gaze to Maddie. “And by the way, fabricating Amelia’s support was definitely cheating.”
I should have known. Those two are always betting over something.
Noah folds his arms. “I’m getting married—not giving up my dignity.”
“What’s Amelia doing tonight?” I ask, taking the seat next to Noah and hoping he doesn’t read the underlying context of my question: Is she out somewhere that requires her to take Will?
“She’s in the studio working on her album.”
Despite our best attempts to convince Amelia that she’s welcome to join our sibling hearts night, she has refused to come. She wants us to have our time together—just the four of us. The woman is too thoughtful for her own good.
“Great. And how are things going with wedding prep?” I ask, raising my beer to my lips.
“Fine. The wedding planner seems to have everything covered. Amelia and I have been staying out of it as much as possible.”
I nod slowly. “Great! Good. That’s good. And…everything else? No security issues?”
Noah shakes his head and begins dealing our hands. “Nope. Everything’s good.”
“That’s good…” I pause, telling myself not to say it but losing my own internal battle. “So her bodyguard…what’s his name again? I can never remember. He’s good too? Settling in okay?” It’s been a few days since our kiss in the flower shop, and as odd as it is to admit, I miss him. He’s been busy with Amelia and then I’ve been busy in the evenings working on arrangements for the wedding and trying to get the design just right. He left a note taped to my shop door that I found this morning, though. It said, “Let’s practice something fun tonight.”
No time or place to meet. Just those few words. I’ve been left tingling with anticipation all day.
Unfortunately, everyone notices my pointed question and eyes me speculatively. They look like a sibling gang—all setting down their beers and about to crack their knuckles before they shake me for information.
“Okay, what the hell, Annie?” asks Noah.
I sigh with relief because Noah just unknowingly saved the day.
“Oooh!” Maddie proclaims loudly, pointing a finger at Noah. “That’s number twenty for him! Pay up, bucko.”
“No. That was only nineteen. I have one more until I have to pay.” （Noah says this every month after he’s the first one to burn through his allotted twenty swear words.）
“Let’s take it to the notebook. Annie?” Emily prompts, sitting forward and resting her forearms on the table like she’s about to be witness to an incredible show.
Even though this notebook has begun to wear on me, I reach in my purse and pull it out, grateful for the change of subject. I thumb through the pages and land on this month’s tally chart. Everyone holds their breath while I add them up. Making sure not to tip them off, I keep my face solemn and clear my throat before snapping the notebook shut and setting it on the table. They’re dying of anticipation, each tilted forward and eager to hear Noah’s sentence. It kind of makes me want to drag it out. Really make them ache for it.
But when I finally open my mouth to reveal the answer, a shadow of someone walking across the street catches my eye. A man. Tall, lean build, tattoos down one arm.
My heart hiccups.
He pauses across the street, makes eye contact with me through the shop window, and then hitches his head. It’s time!