Page 6 of Afterglow

“You are killing me here,” I say, a plea in my voice I’m not proud of, but fuck, I really am over this. “The rest of the room is set, so unless everything is reversed, this is where the gifts go and that is where the desserts go.”

She looks down at the plan in her hands—the one I know matches mine because I printed them out this morning—then back to me, her lips forming a tight line.

“Well,” she starts, and I wonder if she’s actually going to admit to being wrong. “Regardless, I want desserts on that side and presents over here.”

I tip my head back and groan, running my fingers through my hair for what must be the hundredth time today, the gelled strands having lost all of their stiffness. I want to laugh at the lunacy of this whole situation. Instead, I offer her a simpering smile and dip at the waist in a small bow. “Your wish is my command, princess.”

I think her head might explode as her eyes narrow and I watch the color move across her creamy skin. It appears she dislikes that nickname even more than blondie.

I turn away and grab the burlap, then walk to the rectangular table on the other side of the room. “You planning to help me move these tables, or are you happy to keep staring at my ass while I do it?”

I flick a look over my shoulder, and her full lips gape open—reminding me of the fish I catch down in the river. But she can’t deny it; I’ve caught her checking me out more than once since she arrived this morning. I shouldn’t get so much satisfaction knowing that, despite her irritation, she seems just as attracted to me as I am to her.

“I… I…” she stammers, and I raise my eyebrows and feel a triumphant smile lance across my face.

She drops her plan with a huff and stalks toward me with her shoulders back, ponytail swinging behind her. I can almost picture her as a matador with a red cape, approaching me like I might attack at any moment.

“It’s okay, honestly. I know I have a good ass.”

She doesn’t respond as she leans down over the far end of the table and lifts from the sides with a glance up at me.

Now it’s my turn to be caught staring. The low scoop of her top leaves little to the imagination in this position, and the flex of her toned arms as she raises the table only makes the view more appealing. Her cleavage is on full display and there’s a smattering of small freckles on her dewy skin. I clear my throat, wrap my fingers around the edges, and without breaking eye contact, we move across the room. Then we repeat the action with the smaller round table, picking it up and arranging it on the other side.

This whole thing is asinine and she knows it, but god forbid she admits defeat. I swear this is just a physical manifestation of the way our communication has gone since day one.

It was the worst kind of whiplash, going from my initial contact with Jenna to dealing with her sister. They could not have been more different. Jenna came in with excitement and warmth and curiosity, where Leanne was a bulldozer from her first email hitting my inbox. Nothing but a long list of demands, many of which don’t align with how we do things here at the ranch.

So it began, and so it continues.

“That’s much better,” she says, dusting off her hands and cutting a path to the exit, taking the last word with her.

This fucking woman.

CHAPTER FOUR

Leanne

Craig

Can we talk?

I nearly trip over my boots when I read the notification. The damn gravel beneath my feet makes me unsteady enough without Craig throwing me off-balance.

Of all the days to reach out, he had to pick today?

Six months of silence. Not a single word. Like the six years we were together meant absolutely nothing to him, and now he texts me?

Fucking Craig.

I push my phone into my back pocket and shake off the instant hit to my confidence. I don’t have time to respond—or to linger on what he could possibly want after everything he said to me the last time we spoke—because I have a rehearsal to get to.

The grass compresses under my boots as I make my way to a field where the rest of the wedding party is congregated. The peaks of the Bridger Mountains turn a hazy purple as the sun grows ever closer to them, but we still have ample time before it fully sets.

It’s beautiful here, the high summits looming up around us like rocky green giants. A well-suited backdrop for such a momentous occasion, but I still can’t appreciate it. No matter how hard I try to dispel my feelings about my breakup, they’re still there, as raw as they were all those months ago. Especially with Craig’s message burning a hole in my pocket.

It’s not that I still love him, because I don’t. I’ve more than realized how shitty a person he is, but still, the pain lingers. Probably because you haven’t allowed yourself to fucking deal with it. And there goes my subconscious being irritating as usual. I patiently remind it of my plan to deal with it after this wedding is good and over.

Until then, I’ll grin and bear the weight of it like I have every day since he left.