Starfire(90)
“Your panic beard is sexy. Leave it on.”
“I might give you whisker burn!”
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
I sent my mother a short text message letting her know I was going for a walk with Dalton, and would see them for breakfast as planned.
Mom: Come to the lounge for a drink! I want to see my future son-in-law!
Me: Don’t get too attached, Mom. You know Hollywood marriages.
Mom: Don’t toy with my heart.
Me: Is Jake still hitting on those two chicks? Do you want to make a bet he brings them both to breakfast?
Mom: Ha ha I’m laughing out loud.
(My mother hadn’t caught on to texting abbreviations.)
Mom: He gave us a hint about the surprise. Dalton is meeting his cousin tomorrow. Don’t tell him.
Me: Sounds like an ambush. I should probably warn him.
Mom: Up to you. Your father is telling me to put away my phone. Hugs and kisses. Love, Mom.
I smiled down at my phone. It never failed to amuse me when she formally signed off her text messages.
CHAPTER 28
Holding hands, Dalton and I walked away from the resort and down toward the lake.
“Are you nervous about the wedding?” he asked.
“Where is the wedding, by the way?” I laughed at the absurdity of the bride-to-be inquiring about the wedding’s location, a week before the date.
“I can’t tell you, because if people know, we’ll be swarmed with paparazzi.”
He wouldn’t tell me?
I kicked at some loose stones on the dirt path. I’d changed from my dressy sandals into a pair of blue running shoes. The combination of sneakers with my purple skirt and green top had seemed cute in the room, but I probably looked like an overgrown toddler. I felt like one, too. I wanted to kick Dalton in the shin and shove him down the hill.
Why did he have to say all the right things, and then ruin my mood with just a few words? Keith Raven would never do that to me. He always put himself in my shoes, and thought about how I would feel. I glanced around at the vineyard countryside, imagining myself in Italy. I could have gone there with him, accepted his invitation. If I’d chosen Keith, I would have avoided all of this mess with Dalton, and all these feelings.
“The cabin,” Dalton said.
“What?” I’d been so consumed with thoughts of pushing him down a hill, I’d forgotten what I was upset about.
“Vern is working out all the arrangements. We’ll have tents, of course. The cabin and the Airstream will be used for washroom facilities, and by the caterers.”
“The wedding is in Beaverdale?” I kicked at some more pebbles. “But what about the publicity? I thought the whole point of our fake wedding was to have people see us get married?”
“Do you remember the photographer from our Vanity Fair shoot? She’s got the exclusive. The pictures are already sold to People. Seven pages, I believe.”
I stopped walking and hunched over. My mouth filled with watery saliva. I moaned, “This is happening.”
He rubbed my back. “Just breathe.”
“I’m getting married in seven days.”
“Aren’t you excited about your pretty dress? We’ll have to schedule a fitting for Shayla for her bridesmaid dress. You did ask her, I assume?”
With my hands on my knees, I continued to stare at my blue sneakers in the dirt. “I don’t think I asked her. I’m a terrible person. I was only thinking about me.”
He kept rubbing my back, his hand a soothing presence.
“I knew you didn’t have a handle on all this,” he said, chuckling. “That’s why I’ve got someone coming into Beaverdale next week to help you.”
“You hired me an assistant?”
“Something like that.”
I cleared my throat and straightened up. The nausea had passed, and now I felt eerily calm. The sky around us glowed pink and orange, the sun nearing the horizon, and a beautiful blue lake lay ahead of us on the path.
I looked right into Dalton’s mischievous green eyes, and he stared back at me as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met.
How did he do that?
How did he turn any moment—even one with me threatening to vomit—into something beautiful and romantic? It wasn’t just his beautiful eyes and perfect face, scruffy with dark stubble. It was something else.
An acting term popped into my head: commitment. With everything Dalton did, he committed, utterly and completely. Why couldn’t I do that? Why was I always running away?
He swept some loose hair from my face and behind my ear, bringing me into his stillness, his calm. “Aren’t you curious about your assistant?”
I saw something in his eyes—the way they looked bemused.