Page 108 of The Best I Never Had

“I have a lot to figure out, but yeah. I want to start a bakery up here. Which means you can take that job with Camila.” My body flushes. “Not that where I am would be the determining factor of whether or not you’d take the job, because you should do what you want, and we don’t even have to stay—”

She cuts me off with a kiss. “I want to be where you are. But I’d be especially happy if it was up here.”

“Thank god.” I’d follow her back to Florida, but I’m so excited about the chance to stay up here, in a place I’ve always loved.

She chuckles, laying her head on my chest. I keep us anchored together as I lean back, glancing out the glass door to see almost everyone’s on the bus now. “We need to catch up.”

She groans. “Fine, but I’m staying in your room tonight.”

I kiss the top of her head, a rogue curl from her night sleeping in the airport tickling my nose. “You better.”

I weave our fingers back together, loving the freedom to do it without worrying who’ll see. The entire bus erupts in cheers when we climb the steps. Just like I expected, everyone wants to talk to Thea, trying to pull her into seats beside them and peppering her with questions.

“Y’all wanted us stuck together in the back of the bus on Monday, so that’s where we’ll be,” I say, towing her behind me. “If you need us, don’t.”

Thea’s laugh is booming and free, and I’ve never been happier in my life. The cousins boo, but no one tries to stop us. I pull her down next to me in the back row and do exactly what I wanted to do on Monday. I kiss her the whole way home.

We all pile out of the bus when we reach the inn, everyone ribbing us for how we spent the drive, but my face is stretched wide in a grin. Thea keeps popping up to kiss the dimple that’s on permanent display now.

When I wrap my arms around Thea’s waist from behind, I catch sight of Addy a few feet away. She’s watching Thea, a soft smile teasing at the corners of her lips. It’s the most genuine expression I’ve seen on her face, and I think there’s a chance I’ll be able to forgive her for the hurt she caused Thea. Eventually.

“Can I borrow my assistant for an hour?” I ask Addy, my arms tightening a fraction.

“I’m supposed to get ready with Addy,” Thea says, kissing my jaw.

“I’ll be fine for an hour,” Addy says, turning toward the rest of the family as she twists her hands together. “Would, um … would any of you ladies … would you like to come get ready with us? Keep me company until Thea’s done?”

Camila and Lynne blink at each other in surprise, but then Lynne speaks up. “I have to do some things for the wedding in a bit, but I could hang for a glass of champagne.”

“Or a bottle,” Jourdan says, sliding up next to them.

“You two talk like you’ll stop at one bottle,” Mira says in her typical exasperated tone. “It’s like when these two get together, they think the first person to puke wins Miss fucking America.”

A laugh bursts out of Addy, but it quickly turns into a snort, and her eyes go wide in embarrassment.

Camila throws an arm over Addy’s shoulder. “Oh yeah, we’re going to have fun with that.”

The five women head off into the inn, and Thea releases a sigh, her body melting even more into mine. “She’s going to find a place with your family, right?”

I nod, placing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Of course. Now let’s go finish a cake.”

Thea’s the one who reaches for my hand this time. I wonder how long it will take for these casual touches to stop destroying me, scattering my brain cells until nothing exists but where our bodies meet. I hope it takes forever.

I’m so wrapped up in her that it takes me a few seconds to realize we aren’t alone in the kitchen. My mother and grandmother are standing together, lifting the second tier over the bottom tier of the wedding cake.

I step forward, dropping Thea’s hand to reach mine out. “Stop! What are you doing? Have you even put in the support structure?”

My mother throws her hands in the air, Nana precariously balancing the cake for a few seconds before I slide into place, helping lower it to the counter next to the bottom tier. Mom’s already massaging the space between her brows.

“I was trying to help.” She straightens her shoulders and meets my eyes.

This is her version of an apology. It’s what I’ve accepted for years, where she does something nice to make up for whatever she did wrong without having to say the words “I’m sorry.” And it’s nowhere near enough.

I step back beside Thea, slipping my arm around her waist. “That’s what you want to say to us right now?”

Mom lets out a little whimper. “I’m sorry my help isn’t good enough for you.”

Nana runs a hand down her face. “Diana, what did we talk about?”