“We’re in this together, right?”
His eyes warmed. “Right.”
Swallowing hard, she tried to calm her nerves. It shouldn’t feel intimate just sitting in the backseat with him, but with the divider up between them and the driver it did. Like they were in their own little world. It’s not as if this was the first time they’d ever shared a car together, but for some reason, with the weight of her decision to leave the company in the back of her mind, everything felt different.
Urgent in a way it hadn’t felt before.
You’re letting Gillian get to you.
Nothing had changed between her and Darian. It never would.
“What’s in the binder?”
She shook her head, coming back to the present. “Research,” she said. Her fingers curled around the plastic cover. Work was something she could take haven in. Flipping it open, she passed it over to him to peruse. “Once we lock in a location we need to get the invitations out ASAP. I have some samples arriving tomorrow that you can choose from.”
“Urgh,” he said, reviewing the pictures of possible stationary she’d printed out. “We’re going to have a conversation about white, aren’t we? I’ll fall in love with the polished pearl and you’ll fight to the death for the silver snow tint.”
“If such words ever leave my mouth you’ve my permission to fire me,” she quipped.
A rough chuckle escaped him. “Never.” He reached over to pat her hand. “What would I ever do without you?”
Her heart twisted even as her smile stayed in place.
Just another month and you can tell him, she told herself. There was no reason to add more stress to his plate right now.
She cleared her throat, shaking off the guilt. “Once the invitations are out we can worry about the rest of it. We’ll need food, flowers, music, etc. Basically everything you’ve ever seen at anyone else’s wedding.”
“I’ve only been to two, actually,” he said, flipping through the binder. “Both friends from college. One was on a beach and the other was a city hall affair. I doubt my personal experience will be of much help here.”
“Well, Jenny’s beau is a musician. I assumed he’d do the music himself or if not, he’d at least have an idea of who to substitute in.”
“I’ll call her tonight.”
“Do we need to throw a bachelorette party?” The idea of coming up with a wild night for Darian’s free spirit of a sister sounded like a monumental task.
“Knowing my sister, that’s taken care of.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Then I suggest we tackle venue, invites, and flowers this week. There’s a flower market that’s open on Saturday. If we get there early we might find some nice picks.”
“You’d give up your Saturday for me?”
Blue eyes pinned her, and she resisted the urge to drop her gaze. “Planning a wedding isn’t a nine-to-five kind of task. Besides, when have you ever complained about me working odd hours?”
“True enough. You are ever the reliable assistant.”
“Of course I am.”
Reliable. Dedicated. The woman you called when you had a problem that needed fixing. That’s what her role in Darian’s life was.
It never bothered me before.
Allison gazed out the window. It’s the only role she’d ever tried to play. Gillian’s teasing was really getting to her if she was mooning over a life she’d never have. When Darian looked at her, he saw a work partner. Not a desirable woman. That reality wouldn’t change. Even if, in her secret heart of hearts, she might wish it would.
“I suppose the least I can do is feed you.”
She turned back to him. “What?”
“Saturday.” His smile was slow and devastating. “If you’re giving me your weekend I should at least take care of dinner. I’ll cook something.”
She blinked. An invitation to his home that wasn’t work related? They were entering uncharted territory.
“I don’t think—”
“Come on. While we are unfortunately culinary equals I’m sure I can put something together.” He flipped another page. “Say, eight o’clock?”
She opened her mouth to refuse, but the words stalled. Why not accept? Hell, by Saturday he might have completely forgotten his offer. And even if he didn’t, hadn’t she always been curious what lay beyond the tiny bit of his house she’d seen? This was her chance. Any other woman would jump at it. Why couldn’t she?
Why indeed?
There was really only one thing to say.
“I’ll bring the wine.”
…