The door is opened as a man exits and I duck inside. My heart is strumming in my chest as I look for Camilla or Sienna. I don’t know anyone else. I’m not sure why I’m here. It’s stupid. It’s silly. It’s—
“There you are!” I hear Sienna’s voice above everyone else. Soon after, she makes her way through the small crowd in a lilac shift dress that hits her mid-thigh, almost making her look like royalty. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I must not be convincing because Sienna laughs. “I’m sorry. I am happy to be here. I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Don’t be,” she scoffs, her eyes bright. “Everyone is great. I can say that and mean it. How many girls can say that about their sisters-in-law?”
“None,” I laugh as she leads me across the room. I deposit my gift on a large table near the window overflowing with packages.
“Everyone, this is Mallory Sims. I went to school with her.”
“I remember you,” Mrs. Landry says, pulling me in for a quick hug. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking. You?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” She senses my apprehension and helps wash it away with a kind smile. “Mallory, this is my friend Paulina, followed by Alison, Barrett’s girlfriend, Macie, Danielle’s friend from Boston, and the woman of the hour, Danielle Ashley.”
Everyone says hello, giving me small waves and welcomes. They’re a beautiful group of women, perfectly coiffed, yet so warm and inviting.
They all go back to their conversations as Camilla joins me. “Overwhelmed?” she laughs.
“No, strangely,” I admit. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Come on.” She leads me towards Danielle, who is wearing a short, white dress. Her dark hair is in curls and a stark contrast to the fabric. She looks at us with a giddiness I can only imagine. “Dani, this is my friend, Mallory. I know Mom did an introduction, but I wanted to make sure I did it personally.”
Danielle pulls me in for a one-arm hug. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“You have?”
“Yes,” she giggles. “Lincoln said he met you the other day.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “He also said Graham is a little smitten with you.”
My cheeks turn the color of the roses on the table. “I don’t know about that.”
She shrugs. “That’s the word on the street. I also might’ve overheard a conversation between the two of them the other night. Linc had Graham on speakerphone while he worked out, so it’s not like I was eavesdropping,” she winks. “But Graham seemed defensive when it came to you.”
“I heard that too,” Alison says, smiling as she comes up on my other side. Her golden dress shines, making her look even more radiant than she already is. “I’m Alison, by the way.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her proffered hand.
“You too.” She stands next to Danielle. “Are you from here?”
“Yes, although I haven’t lived here in a while. It kind of feels like I’m new here, to be honest.”
“Welcome to the club,” Danielle laughs. “I need to find a good bakery here. Know of one?”
“I do,” I tell her. “There’s a place near my house called Corner’s. Best cinnamon rolls you could ever want.”
Danielle sighs. “Girl, you just found yourself a new friend. When I get back from my honeymoon, I’m going to get your number and we are going to the bakery!”
Alison laughs, putting her hand on her belly. “If I’m home, don’t the two of you even think about leaving me out. I can get nuts over a good cinnamon roll.”
My heart swells as I listen to these women make plans for the three of us. The bakery turns into a full-blown lunch that turns into a day at the spa. Before I know what’s happening, a date is set, reservations are made, and the deal is done.
I think I’m grinning like a teenage girl being included at the cool lunch table. That is, until the door opens and some of the best-looking men I’ve seen in my entire life walk in. Together.
They come in like a stampede, a burst of movement and noise, laughter and shouts, that makes all of us back up to make room.
Their shirts are wet, water dripping off their hair.
“It’s raining,” Lincoln says, shaking his head. Droplets fly off of him like a dog after a bath, making Camilla shriek.
“Stop it,” she says, swatting him.
Over the top of the pack, in the back, I find Graham. He’s watching me with a tentative smile. When I return it, his spreads across his face.
The guys filter out, some to their girlfriends or wives, some to the catering table. Graham comes straight for me.
“You’re here,” he says, like he thought I wouldn’t be.
“You’re wet.”
“That I am,” he chuckles. “We got to the third hole and it just cut loose out of nowhere. I had to ride in the cart back with Lincoln, hence the reason we are wetter than everyone else. He hit every puddle from there to here.”
Laughing, I notice he’s right. He’s almost completely soaked whereas most of the others aren’t quite so wet.
“How are things in here?” he asks.
“Things in here are great,” Danielle says, sliding up beside him. “I told her I’ve heard a lot about her.”
“That was nice of you,” Graham says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“We made plans for two weekends from now. So mark that on your calendar, all right?” Danielle asks.
Alison comes up behind me. She must be mouthing something to Graham because I see him watching her over my head. He shakes his head.
“You two are as bad as my brothers,” he groans before turning towards me. “You would think a bright woman like you would’ve stayed away from those two.”
Our conversation is interrupted by Mrs. Landry. “Ladies—and gentlemen, I suppose—it’s time to open gifts.”
Everyone begins to shuffle towards the front, but Graham pulls me to the back and around a corner. There’s a nook there with a shelf that runs along the top of the room. We can hear the other guests down the hall, but there’s no one around.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, my breathing picking up.
His gaze is heated as he stands in front of me. “It’s more than okay.”
Our lips taunt one another, one of us leaning toward the other and then stopping before the other one begins. It’s a dance, a step forward, a step back, pure torture that is this close to falling over the edge.
“Mallory, I . . .”
I drop my chin.
“When I walked in here and saw you in the mix with my family . . .”
Lifting my eyes to his, I see them shine. Something is different with him. I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems like some of the burden he carries is gone.
His green polo shirt makes his eyes look brighter, his hair darker, his smile whiter. More beautiful and handsome than usual.
I tell myself not to. I try to resist. But my hand finds his cheek, and as soon as I touch him, he rewards me with a smile.
“Will you stay with me after the wedding?” he asks quietly.
“But—”