Page 52 of All I've Waited For

“Don’t do this, Derek. Don’t walk away.”Her cheeks flamed at the memory.

She opened her eyes, inhaled, and turned with the same smile she’d wear at a funeral. “So glad you both could—”

Derek stood in front of her, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his deep purple Campbell Wines polo shirt bringing out the chocolate in his eyes.

She squinted past him. “Where’s Claire?”

“She’s not coming.”

“Oh.” Why hadn’t they called Ashley beforehand? The whole point of this meeting was so Claire could approve their choices for the placement of decor, chairs, et cetera. “Did she tell you when she’d like to reschedule this appointment? I don’t feel comfortable making the final decisions without her here.”

“Ash.” He took a step forward.

Her back pressed against the wood, and just like that, they were back in her office, in those moments she couldn’t get out of her head no matter how hard she’d tried. Sleep only brought them out even more vividly in dreams. Working on Derek and Claire’s wedding details didn’t help. The only thing that would help was getting past this Saturday and then starting her new life as a business owner.

Ashley maneuvered around him, finally able to breathe again. She started walking the length of the decking so Derek hopefully wouldn’t notice the way her hands shook.

“Ashley Baker.”

Her feet halted and Ashley pivoted.

Derek hadn’t moved.

She sighed. “Yes?”

“Claire isn’t coming because I’m not marrying her.”

Ashley froze. Blinked. Slipped down onto the nearest padded chaise lounge. “What?”

“Are you okay?” In a flash, Derek was there, squatting in front of her, taking her hands in his, eyes roving her face as if worried she might faint.

“I …” Ashley shook her head. “I must have misheard you.”

“You didn’t.”

A light sprinkle started to fall from the sky.

“I don’t understand.” Her hands felt warm in his, and yet it was wrong. All wrong.

Wasn’t it?

“Claire called off the wedding yesterday. But I’m glad she did.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Why would you be glad? What about the vineyard?”

His half-hearted shrug, the slight tightening of his face, the way he squeezed her fingers—all of that told her more than words ever could. He hadn’t fully processed what this would mean for his family.

And it was all Ashley’s fault, because she was the worst wedding planner in the history of wedding planners. “I’m sorry.”

Everything—including the two of them—was getting wetter by the minute. The guests sitting down the deck a ways stood and headed inside.

“This isn’t on you.”

Ashley rubbed her chest. “How can you say that? If I’d never offered to teach you how to dance …” Her gaze collided with the ground. Fat drops of rain now beat the decking, turning more urgent by the second.

Yet neither of them moved.

“Look at me.”

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