Chapter Ten
MORGAN
I’m still scowling when Fran claps. “Perfect! You two will handle it so easily.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “But no playing around now. We don’t want you two getting distracted.”
She winks, and my cheeks burn. Again.
Her face lights up even further. “Oh, it’s perfect!” She taps a finger on her lips. “I’ll use your budding romance as an excuse for why you’re not with us today.”
Budding romance?
I start to protest, but she plunges on. “I’ll tell Ava you two volunteered to help me with a special surprise, but I think you just wanted to sneak in some alone time to get to know each other better.
” She claps again. “Ava’s been so distracted since Tonya arrived she might not even notice you’re gone. ”
I frown. That comment stings. Luckily, Will looks as angry and embarrassed as I am.
I clear my throat as Fran starts to turn away. “Mrs. Thompson, this is not a good idea. That’s a long list, and Ava’s going to find out. Besides, Will and I barely get along. We might kill each other.”
She waves as if to shoo the thought away. “Oh, nonsense. You’ll do great.”
Oblivious to the fact that she’s just embarrassed, insulted, and angered us, she reaches for the door handle. “And if you could hurry things along, that would be great too. We’re counting on you two now!” She opens the door with a soft ding and joins the others on the patio.
The quaint shop is quiet after the exit of her voluminous personality.
Will lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.
I shift my weight and cross my arms. “Why did you do that? Now we have to spend the whole day together.”
His gaze snaps up to mine, the muscles in his jaw hardening. “I was trying to help you. Maybe do the right thing? Did you see how long that list is?”
I clench the yellow notepad. It is a long list. As it is, it will take two people an eternity to complete it, much less one person. I release a growl and scowl at the ceiling. Lord, give me patience. “Well, I guess we’re stuck together for now.”
He snatches the list. “Yep. Lucky me.”
“Hey! Give that back.”
See. This right here. This is why I’ve sworn off dating for senior year. Boys are pushy. Always trying to take over. Just like Leo did. Just like they all do.
Will walks back to his perch at the coffee bar. “Let’s have another coffee and put it on the wicked witch’s tab. We can get organized and decide what to do first.”
“Fine.” I can get behind a plan that involves more coffee. I sit on the stool next to him, snatch the paper, and put it between us. “But just so we’re clear. I’m in charge.”
He clenches his mug still resting on the counter, knuckles whitening.
“Fine. If you want to be Fran’s number-one minion, fine with me.
” He reads off the first few items before I can reply to his ridiculous, though not entirely off base, statement.
“Assemble the archway for the florist, set up chairs for the rehearsal dinner, string lights in the pavilion, organize the—”
He trails off when I put my forehead on the bar. He folds the paper. “You’re right. Too much to take in right now. Want to just start at the top?”
“I guess,” I say, not lifting my head. “The archway?”
“Yeah. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
Right.
After we finish our first cups of coffee, the barista, who can’t stop flirting with Will or glaring at me, makes us a second set to go. I shove the list into my pocket, and we emerge into the warm sunlight.
The rest of the wedding party is gone—I guess they took the photo without us. We veer left onto the sidewalk lining Water Street. A breeze teases my hair and carries scents from blooming flowers, and I take a deep breath. Kids race by on bikes, oblivious to anything other than their destination.
We follow the sidewalk, and the lake comes into view. Its surface ripples. An open grassy area slopes down to steps leading to the beach area nestled within a U-shaped rock formation. Parents and children are already out on the sand.
“You’re right.” I pin my hair down with a hand. “It’s pretty cute.”
“Yeah. I used to love coming here. Hudson and I would build sandcastles and try to catch fish with our bare hands.”
My lips almost start to turn up, but they fall flat when a party barge putts within the no-wake zone. Our friends’ laughter carries up the hill until someone cranks up the music, and everyone onboard sings along.
I’m a little kid again, watching the older kids ride away on their bikes for some adventure to which I wasn’t invited.
Will rakes a hand through his glossy curls. “They have a tube.”
We’re statues as they exit the no-wake zone and the engine roars. They surge across the water, around the bend, and out of sight.
No tubing for us. No skiing. No lying out on the boat. Only work.
His hands drop to his sides. “Well, that was heartbreaking.”
Why in the world did he volunteer? Guilt twinges before I squash it. He made his choice. “You could have been out there. No one asked you to stay.”
He glares at me. “You’re a delight. You know that?”
Ugh. This day is the worst. I cross my arms and scowl at the beach. Maybe it’s not that cute after all.
A young girl grabs a handful of sand and chunks it at a boy.
Will points. “Oh, look. Is that what you were like as a child? Terrorizing boys with words and sand.”
“You’re mistaken. The boy’s misusing his words. And oh, look”—I repeat his phrase—“he’s yelling at her now because he has sand all over his shorts. Definitely you as a child.”
I stalk away. Will he follow?
Why oh why, does an annoying surge of relief loosen my spine and wobble my legs when his footsteps crunch behind?