Page 27 of Love Letter Lost
“I’m helping Mallory get everything ready for Livvy’s wedding.” He paused. “I told you I’d be doing this all day.” He listened a moment longer. “I don’t have time to distribute more flyers.” Pause. “Because I promised I’d help Livvy.” Pause. “I ate dinner with your parents last night.” Pause. “I know you go out of town tomorrow, but you told me yesterday with the new build, you wouldn’t have time for anything today.” Pause. “It’s not like that. You know I love being with you.” Pause. “If you feel so strongly, why don’t you come here and help?”
At this I gave a small gasp, choking as a bit of spit lodged in my throat. Ridge looked over and I ignored his glance, walking to the sink for a glass of water. Though Amber seemed like a nice enough person, I did not want her in my apartment, making me feel like a third wheel as we worked. Also, after hearing Ridge explain her dreams to become an interior designer, I felt self-conscious about my apartment. I did not want to hear her pick apart my home, criticizing the space I was working so hard to improve.
“See you soon.” Ridge’s words drew my attention, and my heart sank. It looked like our craft party for two was about to expand to three.
“Amber’s on her way.” Ridge stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “She wants to hang out a bit before she leaves on her family trip.”
“Great.” I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “I guess we’d better get started.” I did not want to spend my evening watching Ridge and Amber make puppy-dog eyes at each other. But maybe seeing them together would convince my traitorous heart to forget his letter and move on. One could only hope.
I moved to the table and began unpacking everything we’d purchased, sorting the different types of flowers into piles and stacking the centerpiece materials out of the way on the kitchen counter.
Ridge took in the assortment on the table and whistled. “Good thing Amber’s a wiz with crafts. I’m not sure we would ever finish with just the two of us.”
I pushed aside my doubts about my crafting ability and grabbed my phone. There was another text from my mother that I ignored as I looked for one of the many tutorials I’d watched the night before. “That’s good news. How do you feel about starting with the boutonnieres? Since they’re the smallest, they might be the easiest.”
Ridge agreed. I was grateful for my open concept floor plan so we could watch TV while we worked. Anything to avoid small talk or conversation of any kind. The witty banter and sounds of gunfire from a superhero movie filled the air as Ridge started cutting roses and I tried to figure out how to use the floral tape and wire. While Pinterest made it look easy, I realized that getting everything positioned just right before adding the tape could be tricky. Not to mention the tape was an odd texture, weirdly stretchy, and left a film on my fingers. My first attempt at a boutonniere looked like a first grader’s art project and I gritted my teeth in frustration. Floral arranging was not my superpower.
“It could be worse.” Ridge offered as he looked at the tangle of tape and flowers.
“How?”
A knock on the door saved Ridge from responding.
I answered the door, doing my best not to transfer the tacky residue from my fingers to the doorknob.
“Mallory!” I froze as Amber pulled me into a hug. “I’m here to save the day.”
Not waiting for a response, Amber pushed past me, making a beeline for Ridge.
“Rigdon.” She wrapped herself around him like a vine, pressing in close. I looked away before I had to watch another one of their kisses.
“Amber, I just saw you last night.” I could hear the amusement in Ridge’s voice and looked up in time to see him extracting himself from her embrace, substituting her hug for some hand holding instead. “I’m glad you’re here. We could really use your help.”
“Fine. We’ll save the kissing for later,” Amber said, her voice turning husky, before she gave a dramatic sigh. “But I refuse to work while watching another one of those movies.” She gestured to the TV, which displayed an epic fight scene. “I’m so sick of these hero movies. Rigdon talked you into watching it, didn’t he?”
“It was actually my—”
“He’s always watching them. The first few were fine, but now they’re all the same. How many times does the universe really need to be saved?” Amber trailed off and moved to the table.
Ridge gave a shrug and reached for the remote, turning off the TV and plunging us into silence.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to Amber’s immediate control of the situation. We needed her help, but a petty side of me stung as I watched her take over prep formycousin’s wedding inmyhome withmyhigh school crush.
I froze as the last part of my thought registered and pushed it aside.
“It looks like I got here just in time. You have a good general concept, but your craft skills need some…help.” She picked up my boutonniere and examined it.
“It’s a good thing you’re here.” Ridge pulled out a chair for her, helping her get settled.
Amber got to work, pulling apart the arrangement that had taken me an hour to put together. Ridge sank into the chair beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders. This forced me to take a seat opposite them, but only after I managed to trip over my own feet on the way.Just what I need. Front row tickets to flirt-fest.
Instead of snuggling further into his arm, Amber gave Ridge a kiss on the cheek before pushing him away. “I can’t concentrate if you keep touching me.” She giggled. “We’ve got work to do.”
While I hated to admit it, Amber knew what she was doing. In a matter of moments, she’d fixed my first attempt at a boutonniere, turning it into a work of art. She even organized Ridge and I into a semi-productive assembly line, cutting and matching flowers for her so that she could more easily pull together the arrangements. She made quick work of the boutonnieres and corsages, though she often made side comments about how she preferred real flowers. She had taken some flower arranging classes, and that knowledge shone through as she worked.
We continued working for the next several hours, most of the sound generated by Amber and her running commentary on her upcoming trip to California and how she wished Ridge was coming. I was grateful when my stomach growled audibly, quickly followed by Ridge’s. The new sound was a welcome break from her constant dialogue and gave me an excuse to change the subject.
“I’m starving,” I exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly.
