Best Man for the Wedding Planner

“I need directions to your place.”

She sat up straighter. “Oh. Just go to the hotel. I can drop you off.”

He frowned a little. “Well, I can take a cab from your place. You hit your head pretty hard, and fell asleep as soon as we hit the highway. I’d rather know you’re home, safe and sound.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” she said, rolling her neck. “I’m just really tired. But okay. I won’t fight you on it. I don’t think I’d win, anyway.” She sent him a sideways smile and then gave him directions to get to her house.

It was a little thing, set back on a side street, with a cute little sign out front that simply said Hawthorne Weddings. He pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. “I’ll help you get your stuff inside.”

She nodded and opened the door. “Thanks, Dan.”

“Don’t thank me.” He grinned at her. “I saw you fall. I’m gonna get some mileage out of that graceful endeavor.”

The look on her face wiped the smile off his. Of course he wouldn’t get mileage out of it. In a few days, he’d be gone, back to his life, leaving her here in hers. A knot formed in his chest at the thought. Now that they’d made peace, he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the idea of never speaking to her ever again. But what was the alternative?

“Forget I said that.” He reached up and took her skis off the rack. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay. I know what you meant.” She smiled back but her eyes seemed sad. “I know I’m not graceful.”

“That fall wasn’t graceful. I didn’t say anything about you, Del.”

She shouldered her boot bag and led the way to a side set of steps that led upstairs to her living space. Her entry was a bit crowded, particularly when she stood her skis up on a mat and put her boot bag beside it. “They’ll need to dry,” she said, shrugging out of her coat. Mr. Num-Nums came rushing around the corner to see her, but halted with a comical look when he saw Dan standing in the doorway. The cat’s tail fluffed up with alarm.

“It’s okay, buddy,” she said quietly. She looked at Dan. “He’s a bit shy of strangers.”

One of the skis shifted a little and the cat took off. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine. He’ll come back out in a bit. It just takes him a while to warm up to people. He’s much better now than when I first adopted him.”

“I’ll call a cab. You sure you don’t need something for your head? I think you’ve got a scab forming there already.”

She lifted her fingers to her nose and found the little cut already crusting over a bit. “It’s not bleeding anymore. And truly, I don’t have a headache. I really am just tired. It’s all the fresh air.”

He nodded and then reached into his pocket for his cell. He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want the day to end. Didn’t know what to say, either, or where they went from here. He’d just brought up a browser to look for a local cab company number when she put her hand on his arm.

“You want some dinner? We just had chili for lunch, and you’ve been eating hotel food all week. I can make us something.”

He met her gaze, wondering what was behind the invitation, wondering if he cared. “I’d like that. But I can help. I’m a decent cook.”

“I remember,” she said, and the little licks of awareness flickered again. “Come on in. I’ll see what’s in the freezer.”

He followed her inside and immediately felt at home. A flick of a switch turned on a pair of lamps, bathing the room in a cozy glow. Her sofa and chairs were a warm gold fabric, dotted with deep red and cream-colored throw pillows. The hardwood gleamed, while a coffee table stood on a rug with the same cream, gold and raspberry colors in it. “Have a seat,” she called from the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?” She came back around the corner holding a bottle of red wine in her hand. “Since you’re not driving.”

“Sure,” he replied, but instead of sitting, he followed her into the kitchen. It, too, was cozy, but not cluttered. Cream walls, stainless steel appliances, cupboards in smooth cherry. “I like your place. It suits you.”

She smiled as she got out a corkscrew. “Thanks. I painted when I bought the place. I know cream is a little dull, but I can do a lot with it with furniture and decorations. It’s like my canvas.” She pulled the cork out with a pop. “Particularly if I change my mind about colors. I’ve actually considered doing something with tan and light blue, kind of an aqua. Or I can leave the walls cream. Airy and light. But I haven’t decided yet.”

He took the glass she offered and sipped while she opened the freezer at the bottom of her fridge. “How do you feel about beef medallions?”

“I have warm, fuzzy feelings,” he admitted, and grinned. For a moment, he’d actually forgotten that she’d trampled his heart.

Her brows came together when she stood up and looked at him, the package of beef in her hands. “What is it? Do you not like the wine?”

It’s in the past, he reminded himself. This is a friendly dinner, nothing more.

“The wine’s great. It’s just a little bit strange, is all. Me being here. With you. Sometimes I forget, and then—”

“Sometimes you’re reminded,” she finished for him. “I know. I’ve had that feeling all day. And then I remind myself that we’re not starting over. We’re making peace and letting go. And that’s a good thing, Dan. I can’t tell you how good it feels to have told you the truth.”