Page 30 of My Fiancé's Brother
Jackson turned, his open curiosity filled his expression.
“Let’s go with 150 invitations. Too many are better than not enough.”
We startedto walk towards the truck. Relief coursed through my veins. One task removed from my gigantic list. I wanted to high five the world.
“Jackson, that was amazing. How did you do that?”
“It’s all about elimination.”
“I’ve been stressing about the invitations for months. Every time I have walked in that store, I just walk out overwhelmed.”
“Seriously?”
“I can’t seem to decide anything.”
“Why do you think that is?”
We started to cross the street. Why was I paralyzed about my wedding instead of being filled with excitement and joy? When we first got engaged, Matt and I had been so excited. We talked aboutwhat we wanted our wedding to look like. I had floated around on cloud nine for weeks. But those talks never materialized into anything more. And now Matt seemed so disinterested.
“I just thought it’d be easier. You know? To make decisions. It’s supposed to be our big day.”
“You should get Matt to help you.”
I looked up. A car roared towards me. It was too close. I couldn’t move. I shut my eyes, bracing for impact. Strong arms lifted me and spun me around. My back hit something hard. My breath knocked out of me in a soft umph. I opened my eyes. Jackson’s long length pinned me against the side of the truck.
My breath sputtered out of me in short little gasps.
Warm fingers touched my head, my neck, my shoulders.
“Are you hurt?”
Dazed, I stared up at him.
He repeated his question. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I could not seem to catch my breath. “You saved me.”
My back was against his truck. His hard warmth seeped into me. My mouth dried up.
“Are you hurt?” I worked to speak.
“I’m fine. You sure I didn’t hurt you? I yanked you pretty rough.”
“I froze.”
“You did.” He opened the passenger door. I scrambled in and sat staring straight ahead. My heart was still thumping, but I was pretty sure it was from his proximity not from the near miss.
“You need help?”
I looked at him stupidly. What was he asking me?
“Here, let me help you.” He reached in and pulled the seatbelt over me, his head bent over me as he fastened the belt. I caught the fresh, clean scent of his hair. I worked to bring oxygen into my lungs. His nearness trapped my breath.
He straightened. Our eyes met. I compulsively worked my throat, unable to tear my gaze from his. His jaw tightened, and then he shut the door.
A few moments later, he climbed in beside me, acting like nothing was wrong. “Where to next?”
Side by side,we faced the vast array of coffee makers in the large department store. Endless choices intimidated me.
