Page 40 of Last Wish Wedding

“We fight. And Kelsey? It’s my job to prepare you legally, but it is your job to be prepared emotionally. They’ll use anything they can against you to make their case.”

She sighed. “I understand.”

“I’ll call as soon as I know what they’re filing, and we’ll strategize from there. Try not to worry.”

But after hanging up, Kelsey couldn’t stop the tears. She pulled her knees to her chest and let herself cry.

Chapter 15

Mac stood at his kitchen counter, marking off names on the party list, something he’d never thought he would ever do in his lifetime. In spite of himself, he was unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face he’d been wearing since dropping Kelsey at her door.

“Get it together, MacCormack,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the list.

The guest list had grown from a simple party of old friends to what looked like a town gathering. Even Pete from the marina had asked if he could bring his wife and kids. Old Joe Martin would need a ride; his daughter said he couldn’t drive anymore but was too proud to admit it. And Eleanor Thompson—she’d been Gram’s best friend—would need her oxygen concentrator.

Mac reached for his phone, thumbing through his contacts to arrange transportation for the older guests. His thumb hesitated over Kelsey’s name.

“Don’t do it,” he told himself, but typed anyway: Breakfast tomorrow at Annie’s before work? 7:30?

He set the phone down, determined not to watch for her response. Instead, he pulled out the plans for the fireworks setup. The weather report promised clear skies, perfect for the display he’d planned. Grandad always loved fireworks, said they reminded him of celebrating the end of the war. Mac had never gotten clarity on which war.

Ten minutes passed. No response.

Mac picked up his phone, checked his message had gone through. It had.

“She’s probably busy,” he said aloud to his empty kitchen. “She has a life. Unlike you, sitting here staring at your phone like a—”

He shoved the phone in his pocket and grabbed his keys; he needed to head into town on Mrs. Andersen’s orders. The party supplies weren’t going to order themselves.

In his car, his hand kept straying to his pocket. Still nothing.

What was she doing? Probably cleaning, like she’d mentioned. Or maybe she was having second thoughts. Maybe she was trying to figure out how to let him down easy. Maybe—

“Jesus Christ,” he growled, pulling onto the only store on the island that would have what he was looking for in the way of party decorations. “You’re not doing this. You’re not getting attached.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

His phone buzzed. His heart jumped.

Sure, sounds great! See you then!

The relief that flooded through him was immediately followed by self-recrimination.

But he was already typing back: Can’t wait.

Mac leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. “Who are you? You’re in trouble, old boy.”

He thought about their conversations. How she’d known exactly when to push and when to let him be quiet. It was easy to talk to her. He’d not encountered anyone quite like her before.

“Temporary,” he reminded himself firmly. “She knows that. You know that. Keep it simple. Damn it.” He sat up, shoving his phone deep in his pocket. “Focus on the party. Focus on Grandad.”

But even as he walked into the store, part of him was already counting the hours until breakfast.

Annie’s morning rush was in full swing when Kelsey pushed through the door at 7:25, the bell jingling overhead. Mac was already there, commandeering a corner booth by the window. He stood when he saw her, and her stomach did an annoying flip.

He’d clearly come straight from his morning run in wind pants and a fitted quarter-zip that showed off his shoulders in a way that should be illegal before coffee. His hair was still damp and curled slightly at his neck.

“Morning,” he said, touching her arm as though hesitating whether to kiss her cheek or not. That smile again, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look younger.