Page 46 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

She propped herself up on an elbow. “You have our whole day planned, down to the sex position we’ll use this afternoon?”

“What can I say? I like to think ahead.”

“You mean you like to be in control of everything.”

“You didn’t complain last night.”

No, she’d been too busy orgasming. But it was different in the daylight. Heat surged up from her chest to her face, and she scrambled to sit up. “Just because I liked the way you fucked me doesn’t mean I want you to control every part of my day. What about spontaneity? What about what I want to do? Need to do?”

He blinked like she’d slapped him. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d used a crude word or because she hadn’t been willing to cede control over the part of her life she spent out of bed. She didn’t care, either. She was an adult, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Her own plans.

She scooted to the other side of the bed. “I’m going to call my brothers.”

“What, to come get you?” he snapped. “They don’t need to do that. I’ll?—”

“Stop.” She paused at the edge of the bed, her back to him. Took a deep breath. “All I want to do is check in on the shop. After I talk to them and to my new assistant, I’m all yours. Why don’t you check in at work, too? Then we can plan out the day. Together. Or just do what we feel like. As I understand it, there’s this concept called ‘go with the flow’ that people sometimes use on vacation.”

When she peeked back at him, his dark eyebrows had drawn together, but he didn’t look angry anymore. “I could use a minute to check on Mama.”

“Good. I’m going to squeeze in a shower, too. Let’s meet in the kitchen in an hour. We can agree on what to do next.”

“Okay.”

She tried not to worry about how the light hit her naked body as she circled the bed and lightly kissed him. “See you in an hour.”

He grasped her hand. “We’re okay?”

She remembered this from high school. He didn’t have siblings, so he didn’t know how to argue with someone he cared about. How to give themselves space and come back together.

She squeezed his hand. “We’re great.”

* * *

Mary refused the glass of sparkling wine the steward offered her. She needed to stay sharp to deal with today’s disaster. While he was fetching her a bottle of water, she muttered, “I’m sorry we had to cut our vacation short.”

“It’s fine. It’s only a day.” The groove between Alex’s eyebrows belied his words. “Did you have a good time?”

She grasped his hand across the wide armrest between their seats in the private jet. “The best.”

Their two days on the beach had been glorious. Alex had many ideas about how they’d spend their time, but they’d talked it over and decided together. They’d walked on the beach, eaten dinner on the deck with the sea breeze kissing her face, and even driven into town to watch a romantic comedy that neither of her brothers would be caught dead buying tickets for. Alex had handed over his card with a smile and held her hand in the theater.

And the sex? Pure magic. Especially the time he’d bent her over the arm of that leather chair. She wished she had room for one like it in her house. Though she’d have a difficult time explaining to her family why no one could ever sit in it.

The only low point—aside from that one weird morning-after—had been when Evie had called today at noon to tell her about a crisis with Teagan and Twyla’s wedding. The caterer they’d chosen had failed to renew their liquor license on time, and now it was tangled in red tape. With the wedding only two weeks away, she couldn’t leave it to luck and the local alcohol permit authority. She’d need to find a separate liquor caterer, fast.

Evie had offered to handle it, but Mary wouldn’t be able to relax with the crisis looming over her. So she’d asked Alex if they could go back today so she could line up some caterers to visit tomorrow before the shop opened.

“If you tell me about this emergency at the shop,” he said, “maybe I can help.”

“It’s, um, not really a shop emergency. It’s my other business.”

“The Richardson wedding?” He sat up straighter. “What happened?”

“Rochelle’s wedding is fine.” She rubbed his suddenly tense shoulder. “It’s my other wedding.”

“Your other wedding?”

She didn’t love the way his jaw had gone rigid. “I have two, actually. Cierra Dallencourt’s wedding in August—I think you know her—and one more.” She knew for a fact he knew Cierra since they’d dated a couple years ago. And Alex had recommended Forza Elite Motors when Cierra’s sister had gotten married. She wanted a classic Rolls-Royce just like Princess Kate. Mary had set her up with a white 1961 Rolls-Royce Phantom V that her dad had lovingly restored back in the day. The bride had been over the moon, and Mary and Cierra had remained friendly ever since. When she’d mentioned her wedding planning side hustle last spring, Cierra had hired her on the spot.

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