Page 59 of All Dressed Up

“Really?” she asked.

His gaze met hers. “Yeah.”

She started to pour wine into his glass, but he put his hand over it. “I’m trying to cut down.”

“Good for you.” She filled her own glass and set the bottle off to the side. “Try the chicken. I wasn’t sure how it would come out.”

He willingly followed her orders, trying the chicken and asparagus crepe. “Amazing.”

She beamed from the other side of the table. The candlelight flickered over that beautiful smile.

I don’t make her smile enough. That much was true. He needed to change that. “This really is fantastic.”

“Thank you.” She pulled her hair to the side. “I mean, I know I’m never going to be as good as Donovan.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” He finished his first crepe and started on another. Didn’t matter that he’d already had pizza with his brother earlier. This second dinner and the company was way better. “So, today was pretty crazy. Pauline’s dress and all.”

“Yes, it was,” she agreed. “I’m just glad there was a dress in the trunk for her. I don’t think I’ve ever held my breath so intently.”

He understood because he’d been holding his, too. “I can’t believe the one she really wanted was inside the trunk. I see that a lot.”

Rachel’s nose crinkled. “See what? You’ve seen other dresses in the trunk?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I mean mothers influencing their daughters’ choices. It happens more often than not. They can’t help giving their opinion, and it’s usually opposite of what the bride really wants. Honestly, I think I should ban mothers from the boutique and let my brides try on a few dresses without a peanut gallery. At least for the first appointment.” He set his fork down. “Do you think Mary knew what dress Pauline wanted?”

“Maybe. I mean, it appears so.”

From her expression, he could see she had her doubts. “You think it was a coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I mean it could be, but it doesn’t explain Emma’s new dress. Emma’s first dress came from the trunk, so it should have been the dress meant for her, but the second—like you said—was much different.”

She had a good point, and it wasn’t like they could ask Mary. “Well, I’m definitely looking forward to Monday. I’m going to see if I can get at least five brides to come down and open the trunk.”

Rachel looked away.

“What? Do you think Mary has a daily quota?”

“Don’t know.” She sat quietly, finishing her plate.

What did he say? He tilted his head, trying to meet her gaze. This night was going so well. That wasn’t about to change if he could help it. “Something going on on Monday?”

“No.” She looked up. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

She remained silent for a few seconds before saying, “There might be a new guy in Buttermilk Blooms from time-to-time... Actually, quite a lot of time. I planned on telling you tonight.”

His muscles tensed.Oh Christ. Was she trying to tell him things were escalating with her and Marc? Had they been seeing each other before he came to town? Was that what this night was about? Her breaking the news.

He moved off his chair and blew out the candle. That confession wasn’t happening right now. Call him a big baby, but he didn’t want to hear it. Nope. “We don’t have to talk about it.” He grabbed the wine bottle and stuffed the cork into it. What she’d almost admitted was not only a buzzkill, but he didn’t need any temptation to drown his sorrows once she left. He’d dump the rest of the wine down the drain.

She stood and reached for his plate, taking it along with hers to the sink and turning the faucet on.

And now she wanted to do his dishes?He came up beside her. “You know you don’t have to do them.”

“It’s fine.” She took the dish soap and turned the bottle upside down, squeezing it onto the plate.

“Thank you for bringing me dinner.” He meant that. Although, he could do without her admission about Marc.

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