جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 25

Rhysand stopped a few steps away from us.Gracie immediately reached for his arm, as if the man had not just made several acres of open lawn feel suddenly too small.“You’re late,” she said.“I was here before you.”“Emotionally, you’re late.” Gracie pulled him closer to the edge of the lawn, then pointed toward the two olive trees I had chosen. “Maya says the ceremony shouldn’t be in the center. It should be over there, near those two trees, with the aisle coming through the citrus garden.”Rhysand followed the direction of her hand.I reopened the venue folder and pretended to be deeply fascinated by the diagram for the temporary electrical lines. There was no reason to look at a man who was already standing close enough for his cologne to slip into the air between the scent of lemon leaves and sea salt.“If the aisle starts at the house,” I told Gracie, “the guests will see the bridal party too soon. Coming through the citrus garden keeps the approach concealed, and the transition

I closed the venue notes before the paper became Casa Valdierra’s first casualty.“Carriage house?” I asked.Gracie nodded immediately, still looking half exhausted from the diplomatic war with her mother. “Please. Before she calls again and asks if we can hang chandeliers from the olive trees.”“If she asks, the answer is no.”“What if she says they’re small chandeliers?”“No.”“What if she says they’re Murano?”“No, but with an Italian accent.”Gracie laughed, and for a few seconds, the air felt light again.Almost.Rhysand walked on Gracie’s other side, not too close, not too far, his hair slightly disheveled from the ocean wind, his face once again arranged into that of a man who had never done anything except stand in expensive places and make the architecture feel insecure.I did not look at him.I was busy.That was a very good sentence. Almost believable, if my body had not still been remembering the shape of his palm against my waist with the loyalty of a traitor.The carriag

Sunset on the Los Angeles coast had a deeply rude way of looking peaceful while my life was busy trying to yank open every secret drawer at once.The sky had turned peach, lavender, and pale gold over the ocean. Waves rolled in over and over, breaking against the sand as if they had no concern whatsoever for vendor access, carriage houses, Gracie being far too kind, or Rhysand Bernadi standing beneath those massive wooden doors earlier with a stare that had never touched my phone and somehow still felt like it had read the entire screen.I had been home for almost an hour. I had thrown my heels into the mudroom with personal resentment. The dark green silk blouse was gone, replaced by a black sports bra, an oversized white shirt I had left open, leggings, and running shoes that had not seen serious exercise in years unless walking to the front door for a package counted.My body felt a little heavy. Not in a dramatic way. More in the way of a twenty-seven-year-old woman who had appare