Chapter Sixteen Odette
Chapter Sixteen
Odette
Avoiding your best friend is a true art form, especially when you’re the one planning her wedding.
I guess I’m a Picasso because I’ve avoided Izzy like it’s my job.
Some of it hasn’t been entirely my fault. She’s been wrapped up in Craig and hasn’t had time to meet me either. But there have been chances, and I’ve successfully dodged every one of them.
Why?
Because I’m too busy with her brother.
I told myself the other night that I’d take a break because maybe sleeping together in the barn in the middle of the day was a little too reckless and, while fun, a sure sign we needed to cool off a bit.
Imagine my surprise when he walked into Dickie’s, and we ended up falling into bed together anyway.
I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. Noah is addicting. There’s no other way to explain it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get enough of him. While I want to say I’m looking for a cure, I’m not. I’m just digging myself deeper into this obsession.
If I thought I had it bad for Noah when I was sixteen, that’s nothing compared to how badly I’m crushing on him now.
I’m playing a dangerous game. I know that. Not just with my feelings but with the curse, too, as it always rears its ugly head. Like that time I thought I might have put the worst of it behind me, then my date turned out to be a thief and literally got arrested just before dessert.
It’s a risky gamble, yet I can’t stop myself.
And a part of me doesn’t want to, curse be damned.
It’s the first time I’ve wanted to openly defy it, and I’m not sure how to handle that, so I don’t.
I park along the street near the coffee shop, where I’m meeting with Izzy and Andrea, the florist who reached out because she heard about the farm wedding and thought her vibe might fit with ours. Then we’re on to For Goodness Cake for the cake tasting.
We’re behind schedule on a lot of planning thanks to our shortened timeline, so it’s going to be a long day of getting caught up, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle sitting next to Izzy, all while pretending I haven’t seen her brother naked.
“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” She bounces on her heels excitedly as I trudge up the hill toward the coffee shop, my trusty tote bag full of notebooks and binders slung over my shoulder.
Guilt flutters in my stomach when she wraps me in her arms.
Play it cool, Odette. She doesn’t have a clue.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. I was starting to worry you were ignoring me.” She laughs. “I got over that quickly because I know you’d never.”
Ugh. This is going to be harder than I thought.
I hug her back, then give her my best I am definitely not hiding anything from you smile. “I missed you too. Are you ready to get started? Andrea should be here any minute.”
“Yes, please! I’m so ready to be over the planning stage and get to the wedding part. I don’t know how people enjoy this. The anticipation of getting to the big day is just too much.” She squeezes my arm. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“I’m sure it’s different when it’s your big day.”
She sighs contentedly. “Big day. Can you believe I’m having a big day?”
“Uh, yes. You and Craig have been together forever and you’re ridiculously in love with each other. That man worships you. It was inevitable.”
She smiles. “I’m sure you’ll find your inevitable for you one day too.”
It’s sweet of her to think so, but it’s not happening.
You deserve your happiness too.
I don’t know why, but the words I said to Noah the other night flit through my mind. I had no problem telling him he deserved happiness, but I don’t believe the same when it comes to myself. Why is that?
Oh, right. The curse.
I force away those darker thoughts and pull open the door to the coffee shop.
“Odette!” Kai calls out as I walk in.
I wave to him as we move to find a table big enough for the three of us and all the binders I brought along. I have a lot of flower ideas for this wedding, and I hope Andrea doesn’t regret agreeing to work with me after this.
“Ooh. What about Kai? You could date him.”
“What? Izzy!” I whisper-shout at her. “Stop it this instant.”
“What?” She shrugs. “He’s cute, that’s for damn sure. And why not date him? He seems like he likes you.”
“He literally just said my name. How does that equal him liking me?”
“Uh, because he didn’t say my name, and I walked in right next to you.”
“Your usual, too, Izzy?” Kai calls over to us as if on cue.
She gives him a thumbs-up, and I arch my brow at her as we set our stuff down. “You were saying?”
She huffs as we make our way to the front counter. “Whatever. I still think you should give him a shot. I mean, I see no reason not to. It’s not like you’re seeing anyone, right?”
I stumble. Trip right over absolutely nothing. And it’s all thanks to Izzy’s words.
“Shit. You okay?” she asks, grabbing me from behind to help steady me.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just a klutz and tripped over a chair leg.
” I right myself, then keep going, refusing to look back and make eye contact with my best friend as I lie to her.
“And right. I’m not seeing anyone, but I’m swamped trying to save my business, you know?
So let’s table the dating discussion for later, yeah? ”
She sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Business first, sexy times with the hot barista later.”
I shoot her a look as Kai emerges from the back room, my favorite bagel in hand.
I look him over. Izzy’s right—he is cute. He clearly spends a good deal of time at the gym, and his dirty-blond hair and green eyes give him a very boy-next-door sort of look.
But he doesn’t do anything for me in the ways he should. He’s missing scruff along his jawline, graying hair at his temples, and creases at the corners of eyes that should be brown.
Simply put, he’s not Noah.
And that thought is scarier than I care to admit.
We take our coffees and breakfast, then settle in at the table just as our florist comes through the doors.
She’s wonderful. Absolutely everything I remember from our first meeting, and it’s no wonder that one went on too long. She’s so easy to talk to and perfectly understands what I envision for this wedding.
We end the meeting with everything finalized—soft blues and whites with pops of peach, calla lilies, lisianthus, roses, and sunflowers. A little simple, a dash of elegance, and some wild mixed in for the barn-and-farm theme.
Izzy’s so excited when we leave that she skips—literally—the entire way to For Goodness Cake.
“Oh my gosh. I am starving,” she says as we pull open the door, the sugary waft of air hitting us as we step inside the bakery. “I am so ready for all the cake. I just wish Craig could have been here for this.”
“It is a bit of a bummer. Did he at least give you a list of what he likes?”
“No chocolate he says, but it sucks because I—”
“Love chocolate, I know.” I tap my finger on my chin. “Maybe we can find a compromise that works for both of you. We’ll see what Sybill can make happen.”
The small old woman who has been making cakes in this town since day one, it seems, walks out from the back and wraps us both in hugs.
She’s one of the few contacts that hasn’t abandoned me after the wedding disasters.
I told her I would understand if she didn’t want her business associated with mine anymore, but she just laughed at me, boxed up my favorite cotton candy cupcake, and sent me on my way.
We gather at her designated cake-tasting table—an old thing that’s been sitting in the corner of her shop since forever—and Sybill loads up the table with different combinations, from customer favorites, big hits from previous events, and a few of her more original creations.
About fifteen different combinations later, we think we have it nailed down, but it would really help to have Craig here to make the final decision.
“Ugh, I can’t decide. This is impossible.” Izzy juts her bottom lip out as she stares down at the cakes.
“I know it’s hard, but we really do need to get this sorted today.”
“What would you pick if you were in my shoes?”
It’s the same thing she asked me when meeting with Andrea, and I’m ready to give her the exact same answer when she points at me sternly.
“And don’t give me that crap about you never being in my shoes. I know about your wedding wish list, remember? I know you’ve dreamed about it even if you want to deny it.”
I clamp my mouth shut. To be fair, she’s right. I have dreamed about my own wedding forever. Of course I have my cake picked out.
I have everything picked out. A few times over, even.
“Well, for a summer wedding”—mine wouldn’t be, I’d get married in the fall—“I would do something fruity but not overwhelmingly so. Something light and airy yet yummy.”
“What do you have on your list?”
My eyes go to my bag, where the list is tucked safely into the back of the notebook I have inside it.
“Lemon raspberry with a Swiss buttercream,” I tell her, looking back her way.
“And for a nonsummer wedding?” she asks with a glint in her eye, like she’s trying to prove a point.
“Apricot spice with cream cheese.”
She grins. “That sounds lovely. And for your flowers?”
Dahlias, gerbera daisies, roses, hops, and celosia in mauves, burnt oranges, and terra-cotta.
But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I say, “This isn’t my wedding, Iz. It’s yours, so you need to decide what you want.”
She huffs. “But it’s so damn hard.”
The little bell over the door to the bakery chimes, and I know who walks through the door before I even look over.
I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I can feel it in every cell of my body.
Which is why I’m not surprised when Izzy’s face lights up.
“Noah!” she calls to him. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes widen when they land on me, and I pray Izzy doesn’t notice.
It’s the first time we’ve been together with her since we started . . . well, being together. It’s strange, yet not, and I’m not sure if I should be unsettled by that.