Page 74 of The Magic of Sea Glass
“Why?”
“Because when I speak, your shoulders raise back up.” He applied a bit of light pressure, and her shoulders slid down into the relaxed position once more.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate with the wedding.” It was the first thing she could come up with to explain why his easygoing, masculine voice made her anxious. If she was being completely honest with herself, it wasn’t even that. It was the way his voice and his touch made her feel. She pulled away. “Thank you. I should probably get to work.”
“I can help.”
“It’s all right.” She struggled to look at him for fear that her feelings for him would show.
“Iamorganized, you know,” he pressed. “I planned an entire cross-country trip entirely by myself. I’ve bought all the tickets to the museums in each state already. And I reserved all the campgrounds. Everything. Signed, sealed, delivered, and paid in full.”
She tensed again slightly at the mention of the trip, and, to her mortification, the look in his eyes told her that he’d noticed. To avoid his gaze, she got up and grabbed her laptop, setting it in front of him on the small table in the sitting area. Then she went into her bedroom to get the seating cards.
She didn’t know how to do this anymore. She should play it cool. He could certainly take a trip if he wanted to without her weighing in. And she should be able to let him go without feeling all sappy about it. She went over to the small table in the bedroom. The cards weren’t there. She remembered moving them, but with the muddle of thoughts going through her mind, couldn’t remember where she’d put them. She stared out at the dark-purple sky and chewed her lip.
“Need any help?” Brody called from the living area.
“No, I’m just…” She peered around the room, her mind still on Brody instead of the task at hand. She should’ve forced the issue that she was fine to work alone.
She pulled out the drawer of the nightstand where she’d been stashing a few things since she’d gotten there. She rifled through the items, but the pack of cards wasn’t there. Had she taken them to Mary’s office?
“Sure you’re okay?” Brody asked from the doorway.
Flustered more because he was so darn handsome standing there, she shuffled through another drawer. “I can’t find the place cards.”
“These?”
She turned around and found him holding the pack. “Where were they?”
He pointed to the dresser. “Right there.” Next to where she’d had the little pile of sea glass. She remembered that she’d set them down on her way into the room when she’d gone in there earlier today.
“Thank you.” She plucked them from his hand. “You saved me.” She grabbed the calligraphy pen that was in the same spot and went past him into the living area. Forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, she sat down on the sofa, across from her laptop. “If you could call out these names,” she said, tapping the screen, “I’ll find the corresponding cards and write the table numbers in calligraphy, and then we can order them by table, using Stephanie’s descriptions.”
“Easy,” he said. “We just need some music or something while we work.” He clicked on the radio that sat next to the TV. A beachy southern song that she didn’t recognize played softly. He came back over to the sofa, picking up the laptop and pulling it into his lap. “Ready?”
“Mm-hm,” she said, keeping her concentration on the cards.
“Janice Phillips,” he began, “table one.”
Sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Lauren located the card for Janice Phillips. She steadied the marker in her hand and then began her signature calligraphy script, spelling out the table number.
“Wow.” Brody leaned over her shoulder. “You’re so talented.” His breath was at her cheek, his woodsy scent making it difficult to breathe. The way he said the word “talented” reminded her of Mason’s assessment of her:We’ll scour the beaches for shells and sea glass. You’re so talented with everything you do that you can make beautiful things with it. Brody was only the second person to point out her artistic ability. Even though Brody and Mason were different people, they were similar when it came to her.
“Thank you.” She could barely get the words out. She cleared her throat. “Next name and table number please?”
Brody scooted down onto the floor beside her, making her pulse race. “Michael Fisher, table one.”
She took in a long breath and began hunting for Michael Fisher’s name. She found it and drew the swooping number on the card. When she finished, she could feel Brody looking at her, so she turned toward him. The way the corners of his mouth twitched upward in amusement only made her more uneasy.
“What?”
He broke into a full smile. “Am I making you nervous?”
“No,” she replied, her cheeks blazing with heat.
Brody reached over and took the pen from her, capping it, and set it on the table.
“What are you doing?”
