“Yes.” He offered the crook of his elbow and she set her hand in it. He guided her through the barn.
“It’s like magic,” she said. “I can’t believe the transformation.”
The equipment had been moved out and round tables brought in. Linens, votive candles, and large flower arrangements decorated each table. The caterer had suggested they hang lanterns staggered at different heights from the overhead beams, and he’d agreed. “Do you like how it turned out?” It mattered to him that she did.
“I absolutely love how it turned out. Everything’s even better than I expected.”
If only she’d let him, he’d throw her parties like this, or buy her jewelry, or take her on trips, or hire someone to socialize Shadow, or whatever else made her happy. “Anything you’d change?” he asked. “If so, I might still be able to make it happen.”
“I wouldn’t change anything about this rehearsal dinner. Nothing at all.”
I wouldn’t change you, he thought.
They made their way through the guests to the far edge of the flagstones. When they came to a stop, she stepped gently away from him. Conversations and laughter surrounded them with a friendly hum. Rows of string lights extended from the roof of the barn over the patio, like a canopy.
“Can I get you something to drink or eat?” he asked.
“Maybe in a minute. Wow, look at the view.”
In the distance, the lake reflected the glow of sunset like a bronze coin. The fading light made her earrings sparkle and her skin glow.
“I thought the rehearsal went well at the church,” he said, making an effort to steer his thoughts toward safer ground.
“Yeah. I thought so too.” She glanced up at him out of the corners of her eyes. As usual, the gray-blue depths shone with wry humor. “You did a good job charming the flower girls.”
“I try.”
“You kept them calm when they started to get rambunctious.”
“It was the least I could do.”
“Heroic. What’re you going to do next?” She angled her chin toward the edge of the patio. “Take a running leap off this thing so we can all watch your cape unfurl as you soar off to charm more five-year-olds?”
“No.” One side of his lips rounded upward. “I don’t like capes.”
She chuckled, then took a moment to let her attention sweep slowly over the guests. “How does this party compare to the ones you attend in Paris?”
“Favorably.”
“Really? But there aren’t any French women here.”
“No.”
“French women are famously chic and beautiful.”
“Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t have a French girlfriend?” She arched an eyebrow.
“No.”
“Are you sure? Does the name Genevieve ring a bell?”
“No.”
“Margaux?”
He shook his head. “Would you be happier if there were French men here?”
“I prefer Texan men.”
“Texan men who can cook?” The question showed too much of his hand. He sounded like a jealous boyfriend, except that he was only one of those things. Just the jealous part.
She sized him up, looking highly entertained. “Cooking skills are optional.”
Two of Ben’s groomsmen joined them. The guys clapped him on the back and introduced themselves to Holly. He watched her shake hands with them, then nod and listen to the story one of them was telling about how badly Josh had played on their golf trip.
Josh had almost made it through his time in Texas. He was leaving day after tomorrow. One more day. He only needed to survive one more day without doing or saying something stupid to Holly and making a royal fool of himself.
She’d been kind to him, but there was a big jump between feeling kindly toward someone and loving them.
One more day. Could he manage to hold back the words inside of him for one more day?
The first rule of mingling on a flagstone patio: avoid accidentally wedging a high heel into a crack between stones. Holly focused on exactly that while chatting with Ben and Amanda’s guests. She knew many of them because such a large number lived in Martinsburg.
Even Mitzi had come, something of a surprise. Holly would have expected Mitzi to spend the evening before Amanda’s wedding running twenty miles, drinking organic green tea, and working feverishly on her iPad.
The sun vanished below the horizon line, putting on a great show of artistry and color before the light ebbed away and the temperature dropped.
When they moved inside, Josh showed her to a table at the front. The name cards revealed that he’d assigned her the seat beside his.
“I don’t have to sit right here next to all the action,” she murmured. “Really. You could have put me at a table in the back corner. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I’d have minded. I like talking to you more than I like talking to anyone else here. Sit and let’s eat some buttermilk fried chicken.”
She gave him a bemused look.
“What?”