Page 90 of The Golden Scoop

Regular people drop this kind of money on extremely special occasions like anniversaries, milestones. Or even more nerve wracking, proposals. Is that what this is?

Has Matt decided to grand-gesture me into becoming official? I reason with myself we’re not hooking up material anyway. Labels, though, will definitely freak me out.

Matt leads us inside, his hand hovering at my lower back enough for his fingers to brush the exposed skin where my dress dips. Heat flashes through me instantly, every nerve ending suddenly aware of him, craving his touch elsewhere.

I distract myself by taking in the restaurant.

A massive olive tree towers in the center of the room, surrounded by four curved booths. Pendant glass lights hang from the branches, casting everything in a warm golden glow that softens the dark leather seating. Waiters weave between tables in crisp, perfectly iron white shirts and black vests, juggling trays of wine bottles and glistening glasses.

A small wave catches my attention. I start turning to see who it’s for when my brain finally catches up.

At the back of the room, already seated at a table, Julia and Harrison are grinning, calling us over.

My hand flies to my mouth. It’s only been three weeks. Granted, we’ve gone months without seeing each other before. But something about having them here, tan lines still fresh, features relaxed, wedding bands shining, throws me straight back to Julia’s birthday. The night Harrison was her surprise. And now they’re both mine.

“I know you want to, but if you scream, we’ll definitely get kicked out,” Matt murmurs against my ear, sending goosebumps all over my skin.

At this point, I honestly wouldn’t care. My girl’s back. With her husband.

“You should’ve thought about that before you ambushed me,” I whisper back.

He huffs out a laugh and gently guides us toward the table, hand briefly squeezing my arm.

They both stand. Julia’s wide-eyed focus lock onto me immediately, while Harrison wears that permanently charming smirk of his, eyebrow raised directly at Matt.

Right.

I never updated Julia on the latest developments.

“Hi!” I whisper-shriek, grabbing her face to make sure I’m not hallucinating. “You’re here. Also, rude of you to somehow get prettier on vacation.”

“It’s not been that long,” she argues, but pulls me into a hug anyway. “We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we?”

My cheeks flush, and it doesn’t escape anyone.

Harrison, who’d been busy greeting Matt, turns to me, arms open wide.

“Emma,” he says, his thick British accent still offensively attractive. I’m used to it by now.

“Hey, dude.” I laugh, stepping into the embrace. They both still smell like tropical cocktails and coconut sunscreen.

“Shall we sit?” Harrison asks. “I’d hate to miss any important updates.”

Julia and I slide into one side of the booth across from each other, leaving the boys to mingle beside us. Matt braces an arm behind me almost instinctively. No says anything about it, but I can tell by the look they share that they’ve clocked it.

“How was Riviera Maya? Better than you expected?” I ask quickly, not ready to share our own shenanigans with the group yet.

“Relaxing,” Harrison says.

“Too adventurous,” Julia says at the exact same time.

Matt and I turn our heads toward each other, fully in sync, before looking back at the honeymooners.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” I tease.

“Spill,” Matt says.

“Harrison got us lost in the jungle.”