“It’s a calculated risk.” He kissed her again, deep and slow and sweet. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.”
For a moment she blinked up at him, her mind blanked by his kiss, his heat, his delectable, distracting, muscly maleness.
His smile twitched with suppressed laughter. “The wedding?”
“Oh, right. Can’t miss that.” She gave him a lingering goodnight kiss before reluctantly letting him go.
Back inside, she faced her giddy girlfriends, huddled over the dining table. “So, um…”
They popped to their feet and, squeeing like middle schoolers, trotted over to envelop her in a squishy group hug.
“He is so freakin’ cute!”
“I’m so jealous, Dani.”
“What’s he like in bed?”
Without giving her a chance to answer, they tugged her into the living room, where a pile of shopping bags covered the coffee table. Marie reached into one and pulled out a handful of shiny foil packets. “Okay, first the face masks and chocolate martinis, then we grill Dani about her boy toy.”
Cari unpacked the bottles. “And you’d better talk fast, because we’re leaving right after breakfast.”
Danielle protested, “First, he’s not a toy. Second, I thought you were spending the weekend.” The three friends exchanged a meaningful look.
“Well, you’ve got the wedding,” Marie started.
“And my sitter has a thing tomorrow,” Laurie added.
Cari poured vodka into a cocktail shaker, followed by a slug of cream. “Cut the crap, you guys.” She added a generous splash of chocolate liqueur. “Dani, we came to keep you company. But you already have company. And we’re proud of you.” She shook the mixture with ice and poured it into tumblers. “Here’s to you, Dani, and your sweet young thing.”
They clinked.
Danielle sipped and winced. “Holy cow, that’s strong.” She held up her glass for another toast. “Here’s to the best friends a girl could have. And I call dibs on the rose petal mask.”
Chapter Thirteen
Saturday, June 29th
“Iwasn’tlookingfora new partner.” The bride in blue sniffed hard before continuing. “I sure as hell didn’t expect to fall in love.”
The bride in green stamped her bare foot in the sand and muttered, “Well, shit. So much for getting through this without crying.”
Laughing along with the other wedding guests, Danielle dabbed her tears and glanced at Matteo, whose eyes shone extra-bright.
“Good job on the arch, bella,” he whispered.
“You built it,” she whispered back.
“I built a pile of sticks. You made it beautiful.”
Grinning, she rested her cheek on his shoulder.
Of course, the wedding arch was a group effort—his carpentry skills, her decorations, and the florist’s finishing touches—fat white peonies and deep blue cornflowers that nodded in the coastal breeze. Though she’d only met the bridal couple an hour ago, she loved knowing she contributed to their celebration.
Composed now, the brides resumed their vows, armed with tissues from the officiant, AKA Zora from the crystal shop, pulled from the pocket of her saffron Dashiki.
“Serendipity.” Green Bride’s clear voice carried over the murmuring waves. “That’s what Zora foretold. A happy accident. I came here to repair a computer and met the love of my life.” She beamed at Blue Bride. “So I promise you, my love, to keep my eyes wide open to all the serendipity before us. I promise not to get so caught up in life’s little worries, or big ones, that I miss even one minute of us. Because, baby, you are the happiest accident that ever happened to me.”
Beneath Danielle’s cheek, Matteo’s shoulder rose and fell on a shaky sigh. He squeezed her hand.
