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Eagerly, I nodded. "Lead the way."
Austin had an air of excited secrecy as he drove us through town, a smile permanently etched on his face. Finally, we arrived at a quaint café, its rustic charm immediately drawing me in. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted in the air, and my stomach growled in appreciation.
"Welcome to Café Plenty. My secret haven," he declared, pulling out a chair for me.
We ordered our drinks, and soon, the table was littered with cups of coffee, pastries, and the remnants of our breakfast. As we sipped, Austin's fingers found mine, and the touch sent electric shocks up my spine. Goodness, the man had a way of making me feel all sorts of things.
"Speaking of love," he began, drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, "what are your thoughts on the wedding?"
I sipped my coffee, pondering. "Honestly? I've never been one for big affairs. I'd rather something intimate, just the two of us and our closest. A day that’s more about us than a show for others."
His eyes lit up. "You know, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe the vineyard? It’s serene, beautiful and meaningful. Perfect for the start of our forever."
A smile curled on my lips. "The vineyard sounds dreamy. And why wait? Let's not draw out the engagement. A month from now?"
"Paisley, a month?" he exclaimed, but the delight in his eyes was unmistakable. "You're full of surprises."
I raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Are you saying you can't handle it?"
He smirked, leaning in, his lips dangerously close to mine, causing me to catch my breath. "I can handle anything you throw my way, darling."
The electric tension was palpable, but I pulled back slightly, teasing him. "We'll see about that," I whispered.
Clearing his throat, he leaned back, although the smoldering intensity in his gaze remained. "Let's do it then. A month. The vineyard. Just us, our close ones, and the stars."
My heart fluttered, the romance of it all making me giddy. "It's a date," I confirmed, lifting my coffee mug in a mock toast.
The café's atmosphere transformed for us. It wasn't just a quaint spot in town anymore; it was a witness to our promise, the start of a beautiful journey. We talked logistics, laughing over silly suggestions, our eyes constantly communicating more than words ever could.
As the day wore on, the café started filling up. Yet, in our little bubble, it felt like just the two of us existed. But reality, as always, found its way in. Austin's phone buzzed incessantly, pulling him back to his world of businesses and responsibilities.
With a sigh, he glanced at the caller ID. "I should take this."
I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Go ahead. Duty calls."
He stood up, pressing a lingering kiss on my lips. "I'll be back soon. Don't you dare go anywhere."
His deep voice, the promise in his words, the intoxicating mix of power and vulnerability—it was overwhelmingly attractive. As he walked away, I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him, admiring the man who had, in such a short time, become my everything.
He returned after what seemed like an eternity, sliding back into his seat with ease. "Sorry about that," he murmured, his fingers once again finding mine.
"No worries. I understand," I reassured, squeezing his hand.
The sunlit days and star-sprayed nights unfurled rapidly, each one a chaotic, joyful blur as Austin and I navigated through the labyrinth of our burgeoning life together. Between stolen kisses and languorous evenings at my studio, we somehow managed to sketch out plans for a quiet, intimate ceremony at the vineyard, weaving our dreams with the tangible threads of reality.
On one such night, with the sky outside painted in the profound hues of midnight, we were ensconced in my art studio, brushes in hand, lost in a world created by the silent dialogue between colors and canvas. Austin's phone shattered the tranquil silence, its ringing a discordant note in the symphony of our shared solitude. With an apologetic glance, he reached for it, his eyes scanning the caller ID before answering.
“Hey,” his voice carried a note of casual ease, but as the conversation unfolded, his expression morphed, the initial brightness dimming into confusion, then sinking into the deep abyss of shock.
“What do you mean she’s still married?” The words tumbled from Austin's mouth, raw and disbelieving, echoing through the space like a harbinger of storms unseen.
I froze, brush suspended in mid-air, my heart stuttering in my chest. Still married? The words swirled around in my head, nonsensical and terrifying all at once.
Austin’s eyes flickered to mine, holding a mirror to the turmoil undoubtedly reflected in my gaze. “So, the officiant signed the certificate before Paisley left Benjamin at the altar?”
Silence enveloped the room once more, but this time it was heavy, laden with the implications of the words hanging in the air between us. I could hear the lawyer's tinny voice responding, but the words were indistinct, meaningless against the roaring in my ears.
“Okay,” Austin finally said, his voice low and strained. “Okay, we’ll figure this out. Thanks for letting me know.” With a click, the call ended, and he set the phone down gently, as though it were a fragile, dangerous thing.
