Page 30 of Take Me (Cherry Blossom Lake #5)

“Thanks.” Erika peers into the bag. “Why did they have to choose blue and green? That’s my favorite range of colors they ruled out in one fell swoop.”

“For the ocean.” I shrug. “Jake’s a fisherman and they live on the coast, so?—”

“That’s sweet,” Hazel says. “So is the veil Cassidy made with her sister.”

Erika’s eyes fill with wonder. “She made her own veil?”

“Not the veil itself,” Hazel says. “She bought that at an LA boutique. But the comb that attaches it to her hair is covered in seashells she collected with Jake on their one-year dating anniversary.”

“God, that’s romantic.” Erika looks oddly bummed about that. Nibbling her lip, she surveys the clothing explosion. “Would it be okay if we did this later?”

I notice dark hollows under her eyes. “Not feeling the fashion show tonight?”

“Not really.” She nibbles her lip some more. “We got slammed at the shop and didn’t get lunch, so I’m starving.”

“Not a problem.” Hazel gets up and digs in her purse. When she turns back around, she’s holding a paper-wrapped bundle. “BLTA with applewood bacon, red leaf lettuce, fresh tomato, and avocado on homemade ciabatta.”

Erika blinks. “My favorite sandwich from Weirdoughs.”

“Damn.” I peer at the purse like it’s a magician’s hat. “You got a new keg washer in there? I could use one at the brewery.”

They both ignore me as Erika tries to give back the food. “I can’t take your sandwich. This is your dinner, right?”

“It was going to be.” Hazel stuffs her phone in her bag before slinging it over a shoulder. “I got a text on my way here about an urgent dinner meeting with some clients. Please save the sandwich from going to waste.”

Erika looks like she might want to argue, but the sandwich wins out. “Thank you.” She’s already got it unwrapped, and the sounds she’s making as she takes her first bite stirs something inside me. “Oh my God, it’s so good.”

I look at Hazel. “Is it wrong to be jealous of a sandwich?”

Rolling her eyes, she heads for the door. “She’s glowed like a Christmas tree ever since you started dating. I don’t think you need to worry.”

Erika blushes and chews a big mouthful of sandwich. “Thank you, Hazel. You’re a true friend.”

“Think nothing of it.” With a quick round of hugs, she heads for the door, already checking her cell phone. “Text me a pic of which outfit you choose.”

“Will do.”

As soon as she’s gone, I get up and grab us two beers. I also fill up a big glass of ice water, which I hand to Erika on my way to the couch. “Rough day, huh?”

“I had to replace a DEF system on a diesel, tackle three turbos with chipped impellers, and change two sets of truck tires.”

“I understood diesel and truck tires . The rest of that was a foreign language.”

Snorting, she takes another huge bite of sandwich. “Do you ever feel insecure about guy stuff you don’t know?”

“Guy stuff?” She lost me somewhere. “I’ve been doing guy stuff to you for weeks now and haven’t heard any complaints.”

She blushes again and sips from her beer. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

There’s a pause while she polishes off the sandwich, collecting her thoughts as she chews. “I love being a mechanic. And I loved growing up as a tomboy. Catching frogs in the lake or building jumps for our bikes—I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

“Same.” Most of my happiest childhood memories involve Erika.

“I’m also not insecure about my body. I don’t look in the mirror and wish I could have bigger tits or be more fucking feminine or whatever.”

It’s my turn to snort. “Uh, your tits are incredible, and you’re pretty fucking feminine as far as I’m concerned.”

My dick gives a twitch of agreement.

“Thanks.” She makes a face and crumples the wrapper from her sandwich. Eyeing the trash can across the room, she arcs a perfect shot. The wrapper drops in, and she does a triumphant fist pump. “Yes!”

“Nice one.” I hold out my palm for a high five, and she smacks it. “Why would you want to be more fucking feminine?”

“I don’t. That’s what I’m saying.” She picks up the water and drinks half the glass while I wait for her to transform her thoughts into words. “I like who I am, but I guess I just wonder sometimes if I forgot to get in line when they handed out girl cards.”

“Girl cards?”

“The rules for stuff like what you’re supposed to wear to weddings. Or how to write love letters or do crafty shit like calligraphy or making wreaths out of feathers or putting pretty shells on a bridal veil.”

Now I’m confused. “Why would you want to do any of that? You’ve got me for calligraphy, and the rest of that?—”

“I’m not saying I want to do that stuff.” She sighs like she can’t find quite the right words. “Just that I wonder sometimes if Neil would have married me if I knew the difference between an Asscher and a cushion cut diamond.”

“Would you want to still be with Neil?” As soon as I ask it, I wish I could claw back the words. I’m afraid of her reply. Of how her eyes skitter away like she’s not sure she should answer.

“No,” she admits, but it’s timid. “He’s better suited for Annabelle than he ever was for me.”

That wasn’t a resounding “Of course I’m not still in love with Neil, don’t be silly!” was it? I try asking a different question. “Would you have wanted to change just to be with a guy who didn’t love you completely the way you are?”

She stares at me blankly for a second. “No.”

“Then there’s your answer.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I interrupt.

“Look, I know we’re just faking this romance thing, and I know there’s an end date on how long we’re pretending we’re a couple.

But even before we got naked together, you’re still the coolest chick I’ve ever met.

And now that we’ve shampooed the cookie a few thousand times, I can tell you right now that whoever you marry someday will be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

” I’m on a roll now and not stopping, because this is important.

“You’re funny and smart and kind, plus you’re a fabulous mechanic.

But you’re also sexy as hell and give the best goddamn blowjobs in this universe. ”

That might’ve been a step too far.

But Erika’s smiling as she sets down her water. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you really do my calligraphy for me?”

“You bet your sweet ass I would.” A thought flickers through the back of my brain. “I’d also make those feather wreaths for you, because you know what?”

“What?”

“I took all the peacock feathers from that honeymoon suite after Sam and Maxine’s wedding.”

Her eyes go wide. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The card said to take them, so I did.”

“What were you planning to do with them?”

“Besides making a wreath?” I grin and get up from the sofa, reaching a hand down to help her up off the floor.

She allows me to hoist her to her feet, bringing us close enough to touch. Her eyes blaze with heat as I reach up to brush her hair from her face. “I also took the card with all the sexy suggestions.”

Her pupils flare as she licks her lips. “Did you now?”

“So what do you say we forget about wreaths and find our own form of creative expression?”

Grinning, she peels off the jumpsuit. “Wreaths are overrated.”

“Fuck the wreaths,” I agree, dragging her back to our bedroom.