Page 47 of My December Darling

“Depends on if you want there to be one.” His eyes sparkle like a thousand gems are trapped beneath the surface.

Desire coils in my stomach, my muscles clenching as I take a deep breath. “Let’s get through the wedding first—my addiction can wait.”

His smirk slips. “Speaking of weddings, did you bring a notebook?”

“Yeah.” I pull a small one out of my front pocket and toss it on the table.

He reaches for it and flips to a blank page. “We should start with the basics.”

“Like?”

“What’s your favorite memory of Gabriela and you?”

“That’s the basics?”

“Seems like a good place as any to start.”

“I—” I guess in theory that’s a smart idea, so rather than push back on his request, I think of my answer.

I rifle through my memory bank while sipping my coffee. “Well…we used to dress up like a bride and groom and play house together.”

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, drawing my attention toward the muscles straining against the fabric of his scrubs.

“Who was the bride?” he asks for a second time when I don’t answer the first.

“Most of the time it was both of us.”

“And the other times?”

My eyes roll. “Gabriela would beg me to play the groom.”

“And I’m guessing you couldn’t say no.”

“Are you kidding? She would break down crying any time I suggested us switching roles.”

He chuckles under his breath.

“Gabriela and I would invite our parents and stuffed animals to all of our fake weddings. We’d bring out our tea set and have a reception before moving into the karaoke portion of the event. God, we spent hours singing and dancing on the tips of our dad’s toes. My dad always had a special song for both of us, and I’m not sure how he didn’t go crazy listening to the same two over and over again.”

When I look up, I find Luke’s gaze pinned to my face and a small quirk to his lips.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s a good story…”

“But?”

“But nothing.” He glances away.

My mouth falls open. “Luke Darling. Are you lying to me right now?”

“No.” His cheeks turn pink.

“Oh my God.” The idea of Luke being terrible at something like lying makes me laugh. “I’m not sure if anyone has told you this, but you might be the worst liar to exist.”

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath.

“It’s cute,” I say.

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