Page 11 of I Could Be Yours

And she often did when she was young. She was the only nine-year-old I knew who could make French onion soup like a pro. Rix also had a paper route to make extra money, and Flip was forever mowing lawns in the summer, raking leaves in the fall, and shoveling snow in the winter as a side hustle. Both of their parents worked two jobs to make ends meet and help cover the cost of hockey for Flip. Sometimes in grade school my mom would pack an extra lunch, and I would slip it in Rix’s backpack before we went inside so we didn’t get in trouble for sharing.

Tally and Fee follow the mom’s back into the party room to set up the centerpieces.

“More food coming through! Where should I put this stuff?”Flip appears in the doorway, followed by Nate and the rest of the guys.

I refuse to acknowledge the flutter in my belly, or the way traitorous parts of my body tighten at the sight of Nate wearing black slacks, a black button-down, and a floral-printed tie—a sliver of the side of him I never get to see. “Straight through to the kitchen,” I call, heading for the doors at the other end of the room so I can hold one open.

Rix trails behind them, wringing her hands. “I need to check all the food platters and make sure we have everything we need.”

Last night she was worried we ordered too much. Now she’s worried we don’t have enough.

“We got everything on the list, Bea. It’ll be fine.” Tristan tries to reassure her.

“I just need to double-check.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want, babe.” He looks to me like he’s unsure this is the right response.

I nod. “I’ve got this. You manage whatever you need to manage.”

He gives me two thumbs-up and heads back out, probably to bring in more food. I follow Rix into the kitchen. It’s mostly empty except for Nate, who is carefully unloading a box of artful charcuterie cones.

“Are you sure we ordered enough food?” Rix’s hands try to strangle each other. “What about the vegan and gluten-free boards? Are they here yet? I don’t see them. We need the vegan and gluten-free boards. Tristan’s aunt Freida is gluten intolerant, and she doesn’t eat anything that comes from an animal.”

“Nate, can you grab me the bottle of prosecco from the fridge and a glass,please?” I call over my shoulder, stressing theplease, to make a point.

He freezes for a moment, gaze bouncing between me and Rix. “Sure.” He sets the cones gently in their holder and crossesto the fridge.

“Some of the boards are already on the food table, so we can check to make sure,” I tell her. “But I have photographic evidence of all the boards, and the vegan and gluten free were clearly labeled and among them.”

Nate passes me the glass of prosecco. “Thank you.” I hand it to Rix and encourage her to take a sip before I turn back to Nate, who is still close enough that I can smell his cologne. “Can you do me a favor and check the food table in the party room to make sure the boards in question are already placed?”

He nods once. “Yup. On it.”

I’m surprised and grateful he’s being so helpful. He’s detail oriented, so I trust he’ll come back with data to match the order. Also, his rear view is nice, so I don’t mind watching him walk away. I wait until he disappears through the door before I turn back to Rix.

“Have another sip.” I tap the edge of the glass.

She does. “I’m so jittery.”

“Take a deep breath. The bridal shower will kick ass.” I note the hint of shadow under her eyes. I wanted to do her makeup, but there wasn’t time. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

She bites her lips together for a moment before she answers. “Did you?”

“Yup.” Like four hours, but I plan to make up for it when I get home. “Were you stressed about the shower and stayed up running numbers?”

She glances over her shoulder before she whispers, “One of my clients was audited, and there’s a whole bunch of paperwork that needs to be handled.”

“Did you stay up all night working on it?” I ask.

“I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up until like three. Then woke up at six because I was worried about the food. I should have just made it all.”

I arch a brow.

“Okay. That would not have been a good idea, but I couldhave at least made the charcuterie boards and the mini crème brûlée.”

“You could have, but you’d be even more stressed than you are now.” I encourage her to take another sip. “This comes from a place of love, okay? Maybe you should consider time off from the accounting firm and focus on just the guys from the team who already use you. Namely your brother, Tristan, and Dallas.”

“This is just a blip. It’s normally not this intense,” she argues.

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