Page 69 of My Best French Wedding

“For sure,” he agreed. “Who knew you were this obsessed with me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was a prank.”

“And yet to know my tastes that well, you’d have to be paying extremely close attention.”

Hildy concentrated on breathing in and out through her nose while she scrambled for a response. “It’s like they say. Keep your enemies close.”

He smiled to show he wasn’t fooled. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can admit when you’ve been outplayed.”

“Fine. Whatever. You win.”

“For my prize—”

“Who said anything about prizes?”

“I did.” He studied her face, like he was gauging how much he could get away with. Hildy felt heat bloom beneath her skin. Was he going to kiss her again? She supposed she could allow it on the grounds that it would help sell the story of their shiny, happy reconciliation. Assuming they didn’t get carried away and wind up tearing each other’s clothes off on this wrought-iron table.

“For my prize,” he repeated, “I get to ask you one question.”

“What? No. I’d rather let you trim my bangs.”

“Just truth, no dares. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of you? Ha.” She dragged his plate to her side of the table so she could eat the offending pineapple. “Go ahead. Bring up something awkward and upsetting from our past. What could possibly go wrong?”

Walter didn’t waste any time. “I’ll start with an easy one. Why didn’t you call me after we… ran into each other at the awards banquet?”

“Uh, because I was embarrassed.”

“That you kissed me?” He asked like it was a foregone conclusion.

“That I kissed anyone! It wasn’t spring break in Daytona. We were at a work event, and I have a reputation to uphold.” She huffed at his presumption. “Way to make it about you.”

Though of course it was a thousand times worse that she’d thrown herself atWalter. She needed to be in full fighting form around him, not floppy and half naked like a lust-crazed snail without its shell. “Why didn’tyoucallme, Mr. Hard-Hitting Questions?”

“You made it pretty clear you were done with me.”

She would have argued the point, but Hildy’s memory was not 100 percent clear on that front. The fog of war and all that. “What time is it?”

Walter glanced at his watch, the actual ticking kind with a leather strap and no smart features. It looked annoyingly good on his stupidly masculine wrist. “Apparently it’s avoiding the subject o’clock.”

“We have a big day ahead, Walter. I don’t want to inconvenience our hosts by being late. Speaking of which, there’s Fiona and Robbie now.”

Walter rolled his eyes like he couldn’t believe she’d resorted to such a weak evasion, but the joke was on him because the happy couple really were standing behind him.

“Look,” Fiona announced, wiggling her left hand to show off a matching set of blush-pink acrylics. “Good as new!”

Hildy put a hand to her heart, deeply relieved the damage wasn’t permanent. “All’s well that ends well!”

Fiona nodded. “And the fact that it was my ring finger is a total coincidence that doesn’t mean anything bad. So there’s no need to worry it was a sign from the cosmos or anything.”

“Only good vibes.” Robbie held up his hand for a high five before thinking better of it and gently pressing a kiss to Fiona’s knuckles instead.

“Aww, babe,” Fiona cooed. “That’s so sweet.”

“Didn’t want to mess up your nails.”

Hildy lowered her eyes to let them have their little moment, but it was a wasted effort. Elsewhere on the terrace, a table full of wedding guests were tapping their silverware against their coffee cups. Fiona and Robbie obliged with another kiss.