Do You Take This Man (19)

“You know, you . . .”

“I . . . what?” I liked this better, the back-and-forth. I could win at this. Him just being distant and flatly kind was boring.

He shoved a hand in his pocket and looked at the watch on his other wrist, and I’d never wanted to make someone lose their cool more in my life. “Thank you for your help. You saved the day.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode back up the aisle. One of the small bouquets I’d fastened had fallen and he dipped to pick it up, refastening it. “And I think that means I won.”





Chapter 10


Lear





TWO WEEKS LATER, I sat next to RJ, who shut her laptop where she’d been taking notes on the ceremony for Aubrey Morris and Thomas Goodman. “Is there anything else about the ceremony you’d like to talk through?”

I tapped my finger against my chair. We sat side by side, and I’d spent the better part of ninety minutes biting my tongue and letting RJ take the lead on this conversation like she wanted, even though I’d had a lot of thoughts. Penny’s reminder to keep RJ happy played on a loop in my head, and I’d reminded myself twenty times to shut up like I had at the wedding with the funeral flowers. I’d never felt more grateful and annoyed with someone at the same time, especially thanks to RJ’s little comment about flirting with Trevor’s daughter, whose card was still somewhere in my glove compartment.

“Well,” Aubrey said, raising her forefinger as if she needed to be called on, “we were thinking we wanted to have everyone dance down the aisle. Have you seen those YouTube videos?” She smiled wide and in my head I cringed—everyone had seen those videos, and I remembered laughing with Sarah, declaring we’d never do that in a hundred years, much to the relief of our close friends and family who would have been made to dance.

“Sure.” I feigned interest and enthusiasm for the idea without encouraging it too much, and RJ’s expression flattened, her lips moving into a straight line, her eyes unmoved.

“Well, we found this video. Honey, can you pull it up?”

Thomas pulled out his phone and fiddled with the screen, holding it up to RJ and me.

“It’s this group doing the evolution of boy bands! Isn’t that fun?” Aubrey beamed, her voice rising to a pitch I didn’t know possible in the human vocal range. “Think of all the different dances, and it would be long enough for everyone to come down the aisle. It’s totally us!”

I glanced at the four young Black men on the screen performing the multitude of songs and dance moves and had my doubts about this couple pulling it off at the last minute.

RJ chimed in before I could come up with a way to talk them out of it. “You know, those YouTube videos are cute, but it doesn’t always turn out so well. Plus, you only have a week until the wedding. Can you get your wedding party in sync by then?” RJ’s tone was definitive and parental and rankled me, even though she was trying to talk them out of it.

Aubrey’s face fell, and Thomas placed his hand over hers. “They’d do it for us, don’t you think?”

“Sure. They’ll do it.” Thomas patted her hand, and I noticed how RJ’s eyes strayed to their supportive gesture.

“Great,” I said, setting my palms on the table. “Well, let’s talk logistics, then.”

Aubrey’s phone rang, and she excused herself.

“Lear, a moment?” RJ tapped my arm and nodded toward the hall. Since Thomas had opened an app on his phone the moment his fiancée walked away, I followed RJ and we met in Penny’s conference room. She’d come from her office and wore a gray skirt that was tight enough to give me an idea of her shape. I tried not to feel too guilty about noticing or let my mind move too far from noticing to fantasizing as I wondered how my hands would fit against the curve of her hips.

She held a disposable coffee cup and a Danish, despite the hour, and she stood tall in her high heels. When we’d raced down the aisle, securing those flowers, I’d hoped the heels would slow her down. We’d never said we were racing, but since I knew I couldn’t say anything, that was the only way to channel the energy she kept inspiring—this competitive, aroused, no-filter energy.

I motioned to her snack. “You do know it’s seven at night and not seven in the morning?”

“I am versed on how to tell time, yes.” Her voice was cool, which, oddly, was sexy as hell. “Not that you require an explanation, but I’m practically immune to caffeine at this point. I stay up late, and who can say no to a cheese Danish from Sid’s?”

That comment left my mind wondering about what she got up to in the dead of night, but I tamped it down. “You’re right. They’re the best.”

“This is a bad idea and you know it. Those two are going to pull together something foolish,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Maybe, but it’s what they want.” I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. “We’ll make it work.”

“You think it’s a bad idea, too.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’ve seen that video—which of their grandmas is going to dance down the aisle to Boyz II Men’s ‘I’ll Make Love to You,’ and which of her sorority sisters is going to channel their inner New Edition?”