Page 62 of The Wedding Favor

“Oh my, you’re gorgeous.” I put a hand on my chest à la Gloria. “You look so much older. At least twelve or thirteen.”

She curtsied. “Thank you. You also look very pretty.” She peered over her shoulder. “Doesn’t she look pretty, Dad?”

It was then I noticed Abe. He was wearing dark brown dress pants cinched at the waist with a belt. The sleeves were rolled up on his white button down, revealing muscled, tattooed forearms. The matching vest was brown with subtle white stripes. He’d even managed to find a matching fedora. If I ruled the world, I would order him to wear an outfit like this every day. It was perfect on him, like he’d just stepped out of a 1940s movie set.

Abe’s gaze took a leisurely trek from my feet to my hair. By the time he reached my eyes, his expression knocked me sideways. One corner of his mouth curled up into a half smile that I was sure was illegal in at least fifteen states. His eyes shone with amusement and something else that made my skin grow warm. Dumbly, I stared back at him.

“You look… amazing,” he said.

“So do you. This really works for you.”

Hallie popped up between us with a bouquet of yellow tulips. “These are for you.” Abe cleared his throat and gave his daughter a pointed look. Hallie looked back at me. “Oh, um, what did the boy tulip say to the girl tulip at the end of their date?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“Can we put our tulips together? Get it? Tulips. Like two lips.” Giggling, she put a hand over her mouth.

I groaned. “Did your dad teach you that one?”

“He made me practice it all the way here.”

“It’s like a form of torture by dad joke. Is the army using this on terrorists yet?”

“The three of you look amazing,” Mom said. “I have to take a photo.”

“No, you don’t,” I lied. Because I did want a photo. I’d make a secret photo album on my phone and look at it an obnoxiously unhealthy number of times. But wanting a photo felt intimate like something a real couple would do together, and Abe and I were not that.

“A photo sounds like a great idea.” He smiled widely, all charm and dimples.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly so only he could hear me. “That won’t be weird?”

“Do you want it to be weird?” he asked. “I guess we could all hold bananas or something.”

“Dad jokes for days,” I muttered.

“Go on, then. Get next to each other.” Mom waved the phone in her hand impatiently. It’s when I stood next to him, I realized my mistake.

My black Mary Janes with a chunky heel gave me two extra inches of height, putting me about three inches taller than Abe. I’d never been self-conscious about my height. Or at least, not until I’d started dating Aidan our senior year in high school before he’d reached his full height. I didn’t care how tall he was. But Aidan had. Even after he shot up in college to almost six feet, the insecurity didn’t disappear. If I wore heels, he’d made darn sure I knew how he felt, growing quiet and sulky, and I felt guilty in return.

“Hold on,” I said, “I’ll just be a second.”

“Where are you going?” Mom asked.

“Just going to switch out my shoes. I’ll be fast.” I hustled to my room. After slipping off the shoes, I pawed through my closet to find a pair of flats. I held up one of my beloved Doc Martens boots—in black, of course. I’d found them at a thrift store when I was in high school. Even though they were a size too big, I’d worn them every chance I got. I loved the feeling of clomping through the hallways of the high school, pretending everyone was intimidated and in awe when in reality, they never even noticed me. I set the boot aside and kept digging.

“A-ha.” I held up a black ballet slipper. “Now where is your sister?”

I shrieked when a hand landed on my shoulder. Twisting around, I held up the slipper as a weapon. “Abe! Good grief. I could have hurt you.”

He crouched beside me. He smelled nice—clean with a hint of something sharp, maybe peppermint. Aftershave or cologne, maybe. Aidan had allergies; he never wore either.

Smirking, he plucked the slipper from my hand. “With this? Very scary.”

“Excuse me. I’ll get some steel-toed boots for next time, so I’m prepared.” I snatched the slipper back and stuck my head back in the closet. “Let me find the other one and we can go.”

“Why?”

“Found it.” I waved it above my head.