Chapter 3
Luke was at Grace's front door by eight the next morning.
She had seen his truck pull into the driveway while she was pouring coffee, but she let him knock twice before opening the door.
He looked as though he hadn't slept much.
His shirt was wrinkled, his hair still damp from a hurried shower, and he held a cardboard tray from her favorite coffee shop.
"A peace offering?" Grace asked.
"I was hoping."
She stepped aside to let him in.
The house still smelled faintly of the Thai food they'd never really finished. Luke set the coffees on the kitchen island before turning toward her.
"I'm sorry." He said it immediately, without preamble.
Grace appreciated that. She wrapped both hands around the warm paper cup before answering. "For leaving?"
"For how it looked."
"It looked exactly like what happened."
His shoulders sagged. "I know."
Grace watched him for a moment.
"What happened?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "She thought her battery was dead."
"That was it?"
"That was it."
"You couldn't jump it?"
"I did."
Grace waited.
He smiled sheepishly.
"It turned out it wasn't the battery."
"What was it?"
"The starter."
"So..."
"I waited with her until roadside assistance came."
Grace nodded slowly. "How long?"
"About an hour."
"And then?"
"I made sure they got her car onto the tow truck."
Grace took a sip of coffee. "So you got home around ten."
"A little after."
Neither of them mentioned that he hadn't called. Luke seemed to realize it at the same moment she did. "I should've checked in."
"You should have."
"I know."
He stepped closer. "I wasn't choosing Brooklyn over you."
Grace looked down at the coffee cup. "I believe you."
"But?"
"But that's not actually the issue."
He waited.
"The issue," Grace said carefully, "is that she expected you to come."
Luke frowned. "Wouldn't you?"
"If my car broke down?"
"Yeah."
Grace thought about it. "Absolutely. You’re my fiancé." She leaned against the counter. "If my car broke down, I would call you because you're my fiancé."
"Okay."
"If Brooklyn's car breaks down..."
Luke's expression shifted before she finished.
"...she also calls her almost-fiancé?"
"No."
"Then why you?"
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Grace wasn't trying to trap him. She genuinely wanted the answer.
Finally he sighed. "Because that's always been the arrangement."
"What arrangement?"
"We've always looked out for each other."
"Since you were kids."
"Yeah."
Grace nodded.
"I know."
Luke ran a hand through his hair. "It sounds worse when you say it out loud."
"It isn't worse."
"It's just..." He searched for words. "...normal."
Grace met his eyes. "It may be normal."
He held her gaze.
"But it isn't appropriate anymore."
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Luke looked away first. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
"I know."
"And you're right." Grace hadn't expected him to say it so quickly.
"You are?"
He nodded once. "If you had called your ex-husband to rescue you last night, I'd have had questions."
She laughed despite herself.
"I don't think Eric would answer."
"I still wouldn't love the idea."
That eased something inside her.
Luke reached across the island and took her hand. "I'll talk to Brooklyn."
Grace immediately shook her head. "No."
His eyebrows rose.
"Grace..."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because this isn't about last night."
"Then what is it about?"
She searched for words.
"It's about boundaries."
He listened.
"I don't want you calling Brooklyn and saying, 'Grace doesn't like this.'"
"I'd never phrase it like that."
"I know."
"I'd say I need to change things."
Grace smiled sadly.
"And she'd tell you she completely understands."
"Probably."
"She'd apologize."
Luke nodded slowly.
"And then she'd do something different next week."
He studied her face. "You really think she's manipulating this."
"I think..."
Grace chose each word carefully.
"...I think Brooklyn has spent twenty-nine years being one of the most important people in your life."
"That's true."
"I don't think she's ready not to be."
Luke leaned back against the counter. "I don't think she'd ever try to come between us."
Grace didn't answer.
He noticed. "You do."
"I don't know."
"Grace."
"I don't think she wakes up in the morning planning to ruin my life."
Luke relaxed a fraction.
"I think she honestly believes she's helping."
"Okay."
"I also think every time there's a choice between respecting my peace or preserving hers..." Grace looked directly at him. "...she chooses hers."
Luke was quiet for a long time.
When he finally spoke, his voice was thoughtful rather than defensive. "I've never had to think about where her place ends."
Grace squeezed his hand.
"I know."
Saturday arrived bright and warm.
Grace's dress appointment wasn't until noon, leaving just enough time for her sister Paige to arrive early and fuss over her.
"You nervous?" Paige asked as they drove downtown.
"A little."
"Nervous you'll cry or nervous you'll hate everything?"
Grace smiled.
"I'm more worried I'll love something that's completely out of my budget."
Paige laughed. "That's what sisters are for."
Grace reached over and squeezed her hand. "I've missed this."
"So have I." Paige glanced at her. "You okay?"
Grace looked out the passenger window. "I think so."
"That's not convincing."
Grace hesitated. "I don't know if I'm imagining things."
"About Brooklyn?"
Grace turned. "How did you know?"
"Because you've mentioned her three separate times this week."
"I have?"
"Mm-hmm."
Grace frowned. "I don't want to become that woman."
"What woman?"
"The fiancée who's threatened by the pretty best friend."
Paige snorted. "Grace."
"What?"
"You've met Brooklyn twice."
"Three times."
"Fine. Three."
Paige stopped at a red light. "Tell me something."
"What?"
"If Brooklyn had been Luke's cousin instead of his almost-girlfriend, would she still annoy you?"
Grace thought about it.
"...yes."
"Why?"
"Because she keeps inserting herself."
"There you go."
The light changed.
"You don't sound jealous to me," Paige continued. "You sound like someone who'd like to plan her own wedding."
Grace let out a slow breath. "I hope that's all it is."
"So do I."
Belle Maison occupied a renovated brick building downtown, its tall windows filled with ivory gowns that floated like clouds behind the glass.
The consultant greeted them warmly.
"Grace? Welcome! We're excited to help you today."
She led them toward a private bridal suite with velvet chairs and a raised platform surrounded by mirrors.
"This is beautiful," Grace murmured.
Paige immediately claimed the best chair. "I'll be the one crying."
"I'm counting on it."
The consultant laughed. "We'll start by talking about your vision."
Grace settled onto the sofa. "I want something timeless."
"Tell me more."
"Elegant without being fussy."
The consultant nodded. "Classic."
"Exactly."
"No heavy beading."
"No."
"Minimal lace?"
"Very." As they talked, Grace felt herself relaxing.
This. This was what she'd imagined. No competing voices. No one telling her what Luke preferred. Just a woman helping her discover what felt right.
The consultant stood. "I have several gowns in mind."
As she disappeared into the showroom, Paige grinned. "You look happier already."
"I am."
Grace laughed softly. "I think I just needed one wedding thing that belonged entirely to me."
The words had barely left her mouth when the boutique's front bell chimed. Neither woman paid attention. Until they heard a familiar voice. "Oh good. I was hoping I hadn't missed her."
Grace closed her eyes.
Paige whispered exactly what Grace was thinking. "You have got to be kidding me."
Grace turned slowly toward the entrance.
Brooklyn stood just inside the boutique carrying a pale pink bakery box tied with satin ribbon.The moment she spotted Grace, her face lit with delight.
"There you are!" She hurried toward them. "I brought champagne cupcakes."
Grace stared.
Brooklyn held up the box. "I know dress shopping is a whole event, and I remembered this bakery is practically next door." She smiled apologetically. "I texted Luke to ask where you were because I wanted to surprise you."
Grace felt every muscle in her body go still. Not because Brooklyn had done anything wrong. Because she'd done something generous.
Thoughtful.
Completely defensible.
The consultant returned carrying three gowns over one arm. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "How lovely."
Brooklyn smiled.
"I hope you don't mind. I won't stay long." She looked directly at Grace. "I just wanted to celebrate you."
For one impossible moment, Grace almost wished Brooklyn had been openly cruel.
Cruelty would have been easier.
Instead, Brooklyn stood there smiling, holding cupcakes for the bride. And Grace had no idea how to tell anyone that it still felt like an invasion.