Page 50 of The Other Side

Lindsey’s big curls whisk as she pivots her head. “He’s probably setting up the cigar and bourbon lounge for later tonight.” She spins her attention back to us, gesturing a palm out. “Are you guys hungry?”

I nod enthusiastically, cradling the rim of my champagne glass between my lips. The crisp liquid seeps into my mouth before she’s firing off the assortment of food options.

“There’s a raw bar outside, and we have some hors d'oeuvres being passed around before the buffet. Duck spring rolls, goat cheese, and salami stuffed dates. Caviar tartlets.”

It’s a convenient thing I’m gulping my champagne. Otherwise, my face would plummet in displeasure. “Great. Thank you,” I manage.

My fingertips rest at the corner of my mouth, carefully dabbing my berry lipstick.

“I’m going to make my rounds, and then we’ll catch up later,” Lindsey says before strolling away.

“Duck spring roll?”

Jesse and I turn to the waitstaff holding the platter of hors d'oeuvres. He happily accepts, but I politely decline. “No, thank you.”

When the man in a black uniform walks off, Jesse’s holding out the spring roll. “Have you ever tried duck before?”

My lips curl in a snarl. “No.”

He laughs. “Well, this could be good to expand your horizons for the wedding menu,” he suggests before biting half the roll.

My brows climb, lips curling into a smile. “Oh, really? And what were your ideas for the menu?”

It’s not often Jesse discusses wedding details with me. After our engagement party, the new house localized itself at the center of his brain, nudging out all his other priorities.

His free hand buries in the pocket of his white slacks as he scans the yard. “Probably very similar to what they’re passing around here. A raw bar is a must. Lobster sliders, tuna tacos, roasted lamb canapes.”

My snarl stretches. “What happened to basic options like chicken and steak?” I tease.

He pops a shoulder. “We can have filet mignon, don’t worry.” Then he leans in, nudging his forehead to mine. Instinctively, my mouth softens into a fond grin. “With a wedding that’s going to be as enormous as ours, we either go big or go home. You deserve nothing but the best.”

My chest rumbles through a chuckle, reveling in the adoring gesture. “Well, when you put it that way ...”

Jesse’s grinning when he straightens up, tucking the other half of his spring roll in his mouth.

“You know,” I begin, casually pointing to him, “I’ve been collecting some ideas from this online forum for brides. Some of them are offering these really neat stations during their cocktail hour. Like a loaded mashed potato bar, or grilled cheese and tomato soup shooters. What do you think? Wouldn’t that be cool? It’s different.”

He’s snatching a champagne glass from waitstaff before he turns to me. “Not denying that would be delicious, I just don’t think it’s really appropriate.”

I dip my brows, that familiar foolishness slithering through my veins. “Why not?”

“It’s a wedding, Callie. Not a sweet sixteen.”

“I don’t get it,” I say, almost skeptically. “You like mashed potatoes and grilled cheeses when I make them. What’s the problem?”

He steers his head to the side, his neat jaw pulsing. I’m positive he’s either stunned or irritated with my smart mouth.

“What’s the point of having all the money we do if we’re not going to use it properly?” He pins his eyes to me again. “A lot of people are being invited. They’ll be looking forward to our wedding and expecting fine dining.”

“If we like it, doesn’t that make it more personal?” I counter. “Isn’t that how a wedding should feel? Who cares what everyone else thinks, Jesse.”

His thumb and forefinger frame the bridge of his nose. “Callie, this is not the time.”

“It’s not even about the food,” I say softly. “It’s about wanting you to view our wedding as more than just a huge party to flash around.”

His stance is rigid when he inches a couple steps forward. “I said enough,” he asserts lowly. “Do you understand?” There’re paper lanterns and fairy lights dangling from the pergola, but no light touches his eyes. Those chocolate depths morph into an onyx shade, and I battle a lump down my throat. “We’re at my colleague’s house, and the only thing you should be feeling right now is grateful. You will not embarrass me by whining over goddamn food.”

A jagged breath slips past my lips. My heart is reluctant to accept the vision in front of me. I’ve never seen this side of Jesse, but his new mask doesn’t excite me.