I grabbed Lachlan’s knee and gave it a firm squeeze. “Then Lachlan pledged a vow of chastity for the next six monthsto prove the depth of his love and the strength of his feelings.”
“Already broken that promise,” he said quickly. “My wife is too irresistible. Even if she does snore.”
“I do not.”
He flashed me a toothy grin, and I removed my hold on his knee. “But she also calls out my name when deep in slumber, so what a blessed man I am. She thinks of me even when she’s unconscious.”
I closed my eyes. “I would so love to be unconscious now.”
“So she can dream of me.” Lachlan took my hand in his and brought my fingers to his lips. “But I’m right here. By your side. Aren’t you lucky?” He barreled on, lest I reply. “We know this is a lot to take in.”
Sylvie sucked in her glossy bottom lip. “You could almost say it’s…unbelievable.”
“And we know it seems very sudden.” My husband gazed upon me with eyes brimming with adoration. “But I’m positively crazy about this woman. And we hope you’ll give us your blessing.”
“A blessing is cheaper than a wedding present, so you’ve got mine.” Frannie turned to Sylvie. “They could’ve had one of those robo-vacuums.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around this,” Rosie said. “This is more the type of thing I would’ve done. I’m the romantic, impulsive one. But you, Olivia? You don’t do anything unless it’s scheduled years in advance.”
Why did my sister say that like it was a bad thing? Plans were important. Necessary, even. Schedules and timelines gave me peace and provided a Zen most people needed drugs to achieve.
Lachlan spared me from having to reply. “This is a huge adjustment for us as well. And since neither of us has ever been married, we have a lot to learn and will need your wise guidance.”
Frannie sniffed and rolled her shoulders. “I can give you all sorts of advice. I’ve been down the aisle three times.”
“Two of them are still alive to tell about it.” Sylvie shot a pointed look to Lachlan. “The other one just…disappeared.”
“These things happen.” Frannie pinned Lachlan with her own steely gaze. “Especially when a man doesn’t treat a woman right. You know what I mean?”
“I’ll take good care of your niece, ma’am.” Lachlan sounded sincere, and it was discombobulating. When had anyone ever taken care of me? I’d been Ms. Independence since the day I was born. I’d had three serious boyfriends in my life, and they’d all been completely satisfied to let me take lead. Of course, they’d also all left me for kinder, gentler options.
Hattie stood with a yawn. “Well, I thought I’d be the first to get married between us, but I’ve decided to be happy for you, Olivia. If this is what you want, then I’ll support you.” She pulled me into a tight hug, so familiar and comforting it brought a sting of tears to my eyes. “If you need to talk, you call day or night. Okay?”
I could only nod before Rosie joined the sisterly squeeze fest. “I love you, Olivia.”
“Love you both,” I said against Rosie’s shoulder. “We’ll talk soon.”
Lachlan shook hands and endured Frannie’s lengthy embrace. I left him behind to escort my family to the door, torn between needing relief from their scrutiny and begging them not to go.
Frannie and my sisters climbed into Hattie’s car, while Sylvie lingered behind with me at the front stoop. Finally, she turned to me and clamped her hands against my cheeks. “Let’s get real, girl. Who are you and what have you done with Olivia?”
I was all out of smiles, even for my grandma. “It’s me, Sylvie.”
“I’ve seen some weird things in my day.” She turned my face to the left, then the right. “Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.” She waited no more than two seconds. “Blink once if you’re still going to buy a wedding cake and I can go with you to taste test.” She gave a satisfied nod. “Atta girl.”
“I did not blink.”
“There was a definite lowering of the lids.”
“There was not.”
“I saw what I saw, and I agree to donate my icing-sampling expertise.” She gave my cheek a smacking kiss. “Sugar, I’m in your corner. Always. I don’t know what happened, but I know you’re thrown. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. But until then, maybe think of this as an adventure. Because my dear, sweet, type-A darling”—her blue eyes twinkled with moonglow and mischief—“an adventure could be exactly what you need.”
ChapterThirteen
OLIVIA
My life was,unfortunately, not a Bridget Jones novel.
