Page 41 of My Best French Wedding

He gave her a wary look. “Try not to poke my eye out.”

“I did have a lot of coffee this morning, so I’m feeling a teensy bit shaky.” She jerked her arm like she was drawing a Z in the air.

“That’s how we used to feed my baby cousin.” Robbie smiled at the memory. “Either the airplane or the choo-choo, depending on his mood.”

“Do you want the choo-choo, Walter?” Hildy batted her lashes at him.

His hand closed around her wrist, holding it in place. Before Hildy could react, Walter bent to sink his teeth into the bread. When his lips brushed her fingers, she almost dropped it.

He sat back, taking the bread with him. Hildy watched him chew, eventually remembering to close her own mouth.

“See, Robbie?” Fiona said encouragingly. “We can put our own spin on it. Just relax,” she half sang, bringing the bread to his lips.

At the last second, he jerked sideways, and the baguette poked him in the cheek.

“Oh my gosh.” Fiona placed the hand not holding a hunk of bread over Robbie’s. “Thank goodness we’re doing this now. Can you imagine if that happened at the wedding? I’ll come in more slowly this time.”

“It’s not you, Fee.” Robbie’s face twisted. “I’m worried about getting a wheat belly. You know what they say—carbs are the silent killer.”

“It’s called Spanx, Robbie. Everybody uses them.”

“But I want to be shredded on our honeymoon! You’re so beautiful, I don’t want people looking at us and thinking, ‘She should be with somebody like that Aquaman guy.’”

Fiona looked utterly perplexed. “But I love your body.”

“I loveyourbody.”

Hildy started to make amaybe let’s lower our voicesgesture, but they were too far gone.

“If you really loved me, then you would love what I love,” Fiona insisted. “Which I just said is your body!”

“I already had my final fitting. I don’t want to mess up the lines.” Robbie gestured at his stomach.

Fiona threw up her hands. “We’re never even going to wear clothes in Bali.”

“That’s why I want to look good naked!”

Yelling the word “naked” was a surefire way to get everyone in hearing distance to tune in. Fiona shifted uneasily, aware they were attracting attention. “Who cares how you look if you’re going to be hangry all the time?” she asked in a lower voice.

“Try the foie gras,” Hildy suggested. “It’s totally low carb.”

Robbie turned to her with the wide, innocent eyes of a cartoon bunny. “Is that the mean one? Where they force the ducks to eat too much?”

“Good question,” Hildy stalled. “I’m sure Walter knows.”

He put a hand to his ear. “Sounds like Maude’s calling me.”

“She’s definitely not,” Hildy said through gritted teeth.

Apparently Walter only had ears for his beloved, because Hildy’s voice made no impression.

“So,” she said into the silence that followed Walter’s escape. “Anybody want dessert?”

Robbie whimpered.

Hildy could have slapped herself. She blamed the lingering effects of having her fingers licked. Walter had probably been trying to bite one off.

Fiona shoved the foie gras into her own mouth. “There,” she told Robbie. “I saved you.”