Page 24 of Take Me to the Wedding

Samantha

The next morning, I was up before Caleb. Mrs. D. and I chatted over coffee and I showed her my dress for Ani’s wedding, a pretty salmony-pink satin gown with a lacy bodice. When Mr. D. refused any help in making breakfast, I decided to go for a run. As I was lacing up my sneakers, he handed me something. It was a UW sweatshirt, faded red and soft in the way that only a well-loved old sweatshirt can be. “Wear this,” he said. “Mornings are still a little chilly.”

I thanked him, put it on without thinking much about it, and went for a good run.

When I returned, Caleb was sitting at the island, talking animatedly to his dad about baseball as his dad loaded burrito shells with a mouthwatering mixture of scrambled eggs, cheese, and onions and peppers. I poured myself a coffee and sat down as far away from Caleb as I could get.

It wasn’t long before his gaze wandered over to me. “That’s my lucky sweatshirt,” he said.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” I said, setting down my mug of coffee with a soft thud. “Your luckywhat?”

“My lucky sweatshirt,” he confirmed. “I was wearing it when I found out I got into med school.”

I rolled my eyes. The man was a total sentimentalist. “At least it’s not yourgetlucky sweatshirt.”

Mr. D. gave a snort. “Good one.” He handed me a steaming breakfast burrito that he’d tossed onto a plate, the cheese sticking in long gooey delicious strings to the spatula.

I took the plate and held my breath, knowing that Caleb’s competitive streak would not allow him to be outdone.

“Hmm,” he said, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtful. “Come to think of it, it might’ve been that too.”

I set down the plate and smiled sweetly. “If I would’ve known that, I would’ve burned it instead of worn it.” I took a bite of the burrito—which tasted as amazing as it looked—and immediately moved to take it off. Halfway through, I felt his hand on my arm. I poked my head out of the shirt to find him laughing hysterically.

His laugh was rumbly and hearty, reverberating in pleasant waves around me. “I’m teasing,” he said, grinning. “Gotcha.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head, pretending to be offended.

“Oh, come on, it was a little funny.”

“No, it really wasn’t. It was gross.”

“Sorry,” he said. I put on the most hardened, skeptical expression I could. “Really sorry,” he persisted. “See?” He pushed out his lower lip and made a sad face.

He looked so ridiculous that I burst out laughing. Even though I didn’t want to.

As my completely inappropriate guffaw faded, my breath caught, half from trying to stop and half from the realization that something strange was happening to me. I felt… caffeinated. A little tingly, a little out of breath.

I took another sip of coffee to buy myself some time to get it together. I remember thinking that his eyes were so intense, that odd shade of green, so, so… No. I was not interested.Definitely not interested.

I definitely did not see a spark of heat in those eyes aimed right at me, straight as Cupid’s arrow.

That was when I choked on my coffee. I stood up, coughing and trying to catch my breath.

He stood too, poured me a glass of water, and handed it to me, slapping me on the back.

“What med school did you go to?” I asked between gasps, “Because that’s not what you’re supposed to do when someone’s choking.”

“If I tried the Heimlich on you, you’d probably elbow me to death.”

I wanted to tell him he was absolutely right, but I was still choking. When I could finally breathe again, he was still standing next to me, his lips turned up in the slightest smile. Nice, full lips, I couldn’t help noticing, probably because everything had gotten so weird, and once that happens, it’s like I couldn’t stop that inner voice from tormenting me.He’s hot.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caleb’s parents exchange looks. I couldn’t tear that shirt off fast enough. I handed it to him.

“Keep it,” he said. “It looks good on you.”

* * *

Caleb

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