Page 71 of Just Act Natural

Or thinking about. Because how awkward would that be, right?

So awkward.

“Tell me how the engagement party is going to go. I don’t think I’ve been to one.”

I snap myself out of musing over what it would be like to kiss him hello every time I see him. “Your brother didn’t have one?”

“They eloped.”

“Oh yeah. That didn’t make people mad?” Specifically, their parents. Mine would lose their minds if Hope or I tried that. They want us happy, but they want to witness the happiness.

“No?” He makes a face like it’s a strange question.

Men are so wild.

“Right. Well, engagement parties might be more common when your mom is over the top.”

“I suspect that’s why Eliza chose to elope.”

Smart woman. My mom never got the chance to plan a party for me. Josh and I were supposed to have a long engagement—plenty of time to organize the perfect wedding, the ideal reception, the dream honeymoon. We thought a year or two at least. Now, I feel like our willingness to put off our future together should have been a sign. Hope and Griffin would get married tomorrow if they could be sure everyone they love most could be with them to see it.

A year ago, I would have advised her to slow down and make sure every last detail is exactly right. Now, I envy her certainty that Griffin’s the right man for her more than any idealized wedding scenario.

Grant sets aside the parsley and wipes off his hands. “I should tell you, I don’t have nice clothes with me. If it’s very over the top, I’ll need to find something better than casual pants and a button down.”

“You’ll look great in anything.”

He lifts one skeptical eyebrow, but his mouth curls with the beginning of a smirk.

“Not these athletic shorts, obviously.” I’m a huge fan of the way they hug his amazing booty, but I don’t want to share that view. “Pants would be best.”

“I can swing pants. Anything else I should know?”

“Hope and Griffin are super chill about it, but I think they’re giving Mom a little responsibility now so she doesn’t go crazy with the main event.” I wish them the best of luck with that. It’ll be like reining in a tween at the makeup counter with her mom’s credit card. “It’s really just a casual party so my mom can say, ‘Hey everyone, at least one of my daughters is getting married.’”

Grr. I need to learn to shut my mouth when I’m ahead. I would have been better off rhapsodizing about his butt in those athletic shorts.

He looks up from the creamy sauce he’s stirring. “Will this be uncomfortable for you?”

“No.No. It’s fine. No.” If I say no enough, maybe one of us will believe it.

He goes on watching me. Being around someone this perceptive is comforting and annoying at the same time. Sometimes I need him tonotsee what I’m feeling for a change.

“Maybe a little? Not because I still want that.” No universe exists in which I would ever take Josh back. “Just the weirdness of everybody knowing Iwasengaged, and now I’m not. It’s kind of putting my failures on display, you know?”

All of our friends and family know by now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t have questions. I can only hope they’ll be too dazzled by my sister and her fiancé to ask any of them.

“I know.” The intensity in his gaze is like an electric shock rippling across my skin. “You wonder if everyone’s trying to figure out what you did to deserve it. How much of the break up was your fault. If there’s something wrong with you.”

I draw in a breath. He just sucker punched my heart right on its livid bruise. Completely by accident, I’m sure, but I wasn’t ready for the ache those words pull to the surface.

“Exactly.” My voice is a tiny little whisper.

He shuts off the burner and moves the sauce off of the heat before he steps toward me. My skin feels too tight, like my body’s pressed beneath a microscope glass and I can’t get free. Is he asking himself the same questions? What did I do wrong with Josh? Did I deserve to be dumped? Was his cheating my fault?

“Lila.” Grant’s oh-so soft in his soothing. He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, hisfingertips barely touching me. Then, his arms come around my shoulders and he pulls me against him.

I sink into his embrace, my cheek on his chest, one hand gripping his side. Goodness, this man is warm. And so, so sweet. I amnotgoing to cry—I won’t keep spilling tears over how unwanted and unloveable Josh’s betrayal made me feel. But Grant’s hold calms that too-tight sensation until I can relax in my own skin again.

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