Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

Harriet stands up again. “I’ll admit that at first I was skeptical because of Will’s media reputation. But the more we all watched you two together, the more we saw the realness in Will. He’s a good man. And furthermore, we can see that you two are clearly in love and right for each other. We just want you to be happy, Annie. And we see how happy he makes you.”

I’m still reeling from the word love used to describe me and Annie so casually. Mentally, I’m doubled over, hyperventilating, and trying to reach for something to hold on to.

Mabel suddenly shoots up from her seat. “But let the record show that I was always in favor of William from the start! Harriet only jumped on board recently.”

“Oh, sit down. No one wants to hear you toot your own horn.”

“I will not sit down,” Mabel says indignantly. “Actually, I will, but only because my hip is acting up and I want to sit down. But not because you told me to.”

Annie looks just as shaken by the L-word as I do. She blinks softly, hands the flyer to Harriet, and smiles. A montage of our night together runs through my head, and I assume it’s doing the same for her. And then I see the moment she decides she’s misled the whole town and needs to come clean.

Her brows pull together as she looks out over the crowd, and that’s when I stand up. “Thanks for the votes, everyone. Jeanine, are you headed back to the diner soon?”

She blinks at me. “Uh—you can let yourself in, hun. Coffee’s warm and Greg should be in the kitchen. Be there in ten.”

“Sounds good.” I go to the front, take a dazed-looking Annie’s hand, and start pulling her with me. “And Marvin. You really gotta stop parking in the mayor’s spot, man. Not cool,” I say, shaking my head on my way out.

The second we are out the door, I stop and take Annie’s face in my hands, pressing my mouth firmly to hers, stealing any words she was about to say right from her lips. Annie wraps her arms up around my neck and we both simultaneously deepen the kiss until we’re full blown making out on the sidewalk. Weird town meeting forgotten.

A minute or two or five later, we pull away out of breath. Annie presses her fingers to her kiss-stolen lips and blinks at me. Neither of us knows what’s happening anymore. And that’s okay.

“Let’s go get some breakfast, yeah?”

She swallows. “Okay.”

I look over my shoulder as we cross the street and find no less than twenty faces peering out the window of Gemma’s quilt shop.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


    Annie


After an abnormally quiet breakfast where Will and I didn’t even come close to discussing what’s going to happen to us after he leaves town in two short days, I went to the flower shop. It’s closed today so that I could spend the whole afternoon putting finishing touches on the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner tonight.

Somehow I managed to block out all thoughts of Will and focus on my work. Just kidding! I literally zoned out no less than ten times when I realized I was replaying our night together. It turns out that even after reading all of those incredibly steamy scenes in my historical romance books, I was in no way prepared for how incredible the real deal is. What it would feel like to be fully known by another person. To love someone in a tangible, outward way.

And it was a lot of fun, so there’s that too.

Anyway, I did manage to get the arrangements finished and loaded up in my truck and then unloaded again at James’s farm in enough time to come back home and shower and get ready for the evening.

And now, as I stand here staring at the dress I bought for the wedding rehearsal hanging up in my closet, I consider not going.

“I can’t wear this,” I tell Madison, who’s standing at my right.

“You absolutely have to wear this!” she says emphatically.

“It’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen,” Emily adds from my left.

The three of us continue to stare at the powder-pink, floor-length dress and marvel. I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything so fancy. I bought it when I was in the throes of proving that I could be Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face, and I chose the dress because it was the same shade of pink as the overlay she wears during her big runway reveal. The reveal where she completely dazzles the crowd. But now I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to myself, so I consider putting on my overalls instead.

“Oh no, you don’t,” says Madison, watching my gaze fall to my well-worn regular attire hanging behind the stunning dress. “You can love yourself and love dressing up in a fancy dress. The two can be synonymous.”

Before I can protest, she’s lifting my arms and taking off my shirt, and Emily is stripping my pants off my lower half. In a matter of seconds, I’m being zipped up in a dress that fits me like a glove. It’s simple—a soft pink dress with a square neckline and thick sleeveless straps. Unlike the dress of Emily’s I wore for my disaster date, this cuts off at the exact perfect spot for my curvy shape and short size—midway past my knees. But the wildest part is the sexy slit that extends up the side to my midthigh.

I feel beautiful and feminine, and can’t help but smile when I look in the mirror.

And an hour later, as soon as I walk into the premises of the rehearsal dinner, of course John—the one man I’d like to never see again—corners me by the open bar. Noah and Amelia just had to go and invite most of the town. Of course John wasn’t invited—but Jeanine was—and I know from being warned by Amelia after the RSVP came in that Jeanine brought him as her plus-one.

“Wow, Annie…you look…incredible.” He whistles as he eyes me head to toe in a way that I really don’t think he should feel comfortable doing after he ditched me mid date, and is currently on a date with another woman.

Well, I feel incredible, but I didn’t get this dress for him. Or for anyone really. I bought it and am wearing it because it makes me happy and confident. So much so that if someone were to call me Sweet Annie tonight, I wouldn’t even be offended. Because it’s only an insult if I accept it as one.

And thanks to Will, I will now forever and for always smile when I hear that particular adjective. Speaking of Will, I peek over my shoulder and look around the open-air tent to find him, but he’s not here. There are beautiful warm string lights, big gorgeous bouquets (courtesy of me), tables with white linens, and people dressed to the nines everywhere I look—but no Will.

I turn back and almost forget I was midconversation with John. “Oh, thank you. You look nice too. Have a good night,” I say, taking a glass of wine from the bar and preparing to turn.

“Wait, uh—Annie,” he says in a sort of frantic rush. “I’m here with Jeanine tonight, but it’s nothing serious. So I was actually wondering if you’d like to go out again sometime? Because the last time got cut short…by my emergency.”

Ha! This man has some nerve still pretending it was an “emergency.” And insulting Jeanine by asking out another woman while he’s on a date with her.

Is this really happening? Am I getting my movie moment? The one where I’ve been completely transformed and am in my sexy dress, and I get to tell the loser guy who made me feel like cow poo to get lost in front of everyone? It would feel so good. I’ll smile the entire time I deliver my monologue, “I don’t think so, on account of me being too boring for you.”

But then I realize that I don’t need this win. I have nothing to prove to John, and I don’t care to waste a single second on him.

“I don’t think so. Have a good night, John.” I walk off with my head held high and really hoping that Jeanine isn’t actually interested in him.

I weave through a crowd of people I don’t recognize who are flocked around Amelia and Noah. Music business friends, most likely. She hasn’t invited many people from her Rae Rose life because she and Noah wanted to keep the wedding pretty intimate, but when I look closer, I do recognize Amelia’s mom, Claire (her personal assistant), and Keysha (her manager).

Sarah Adams's books