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Authors: Denise Grover Swank
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excuses if Libby decided to call him out.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked. “Steak sauce? Ketchup?”
Libby looked around the table. “Where are Noah’s fried pickles?”
The waitress cringed. “Sorry about that. I have to admit, you’ve got the kitchen staff fit to be tied. They keep poking their heads out the door to get a look at you instead of doing their jobs. They’ll be right out.”
Noah didn’t care about the pickles. He only wanted the waitress to leave so he could assess the fallout from his near mistake. When Libby picked up her fork and knife without saying anything, he decided to ignore that it had ever happened. “So you and Mitch are okay?”
“Yeah.” She kept her gaze on her plate as she sawed on her steak. “He wished me well, but then that’s Mitch. He’s awesome like that.”
“Having second thoughts?”
“What?” Her gaze jerked up to his. “No. I didn’t really love him.” A tiny grin twisted her lips. “And if I had to listen to one more Razorback call, I think I may have killed him before our first anniversary. Did I tell you the wedding was Razorback themed?”
“What?” he laughed, relieved she’d let their awkward moment pass. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He wore an Arkansas printed tie and socks. Megan and Blair wore red dresses, and he had a Hog groom’s cake.” Grinning, she stabbed a piece of her steak. “In his vows, he used a play from the 2010 Cotton Bowl game.”
“Why in the world did you agree to that?” He couldn’t imagine her going along with any of it.
She shrugged. “It’s what he wanted.”
“Doesn’t the bride typically get what she wants?” He couldn’t understand why she’d proposed to Mitch, but it absolutely astonished him that she’d let him plan the entire wedding. She loved weddings and everything about them. Heck, she’d probably started planning her big day when she was a middle-schooler collecting images cut out of magazines. None of this made sense.
She shrugged again, not looking up at him.
“Libby.”
She lifted her gaze to his.
He paused. “Yeah, Mitch is a great guy, but he wasn’t the right guy for you.” He held up his hand in case she started to protest. “And no, this isn’t me gloating.”
Something like regret filled her eyes. “You have every right.”
He gave a small shake of his head. “Nope. Not even a little.” He turned serious. “But one day, you’ll meet a guy who can give you the kind of love your friends have found, because that’s what you deserve, Libby. A guy who will stand by your side no matter what, then sweep you off your feet while he’s giving you the stars and moon.” He hoped that guy was him, particularly since a band of jealousy coiled around his heart at the notion of some other man giving that to her. The feeling was unsettling; he’d never been jealous like this before.
Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to find that, Noah. It’s too late.”
“Bullshit. You’re not even thirty yet.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
A soft smile lit up her face. “You’re the only man who’s ever liked me for me. ”
“What does that mean?”
“Guys always see the outside. They rarely pay attention to the inside.”
Guilt washed through him. How many times had he been so dazzled by a woman’s beauty, he’d ignored everything else about her? And while he’d seen firsthand how many men openly gawked at Libby, it had never occurred to him to ask how she felt about it. “Not every man is like that, Lib. Look at Josh.” And me. But he couldn’t tell her that. She was still raw over her breakup with Mitch. He didn’t want to be her rebound.
She pursed her lips and didn’t answer.
He decided to change the subject, although he wasn’t sure the one he was moving on to was any safer. “So you called Megan.”
She sighed. “Mitch said she and Blair were freaking out.” A grin cracked her lips. “Blair
“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked. “Steak sauce? Ketchup?”
Libby looked around the table. “Where are Noah’s fried pickles?”
The waitress cringed. “Sorry about that. I have to admit, you’ve got the kitchen staff fit to be tied. They keep poking their heads out the door to get a look at you instead of doing their jobs. They’ll be right out.”
Noah didn’t care about the pickles. He only wanted the waitress to leave so he could assess the fallout from his near mistake. When Libby picked up her fork and knife without saying anything, he decided to ignore that it had ever happened. “So you and Mitch are okay?”
“Yeah.” She kept her gaze on her plate as she sawed on her steak. “He wished me well, but then that’s Mitch. He’s awesome like that.”
“Having second thoughts?”
“What?” Her gaze jerked up to his. “No. I didn’t really love him.” A tiny grin twisted her lips. “And if I had to listen to one more Razorback call, I think I may have killed him before our first anniversary. Did I tell you the wedding was Razorback themed?”
“What?” he laughed, relieved she’d let their awkward moment pass. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He wore an Arkansas printed tie and socks. Megan and Blair wore red dresses, and he had a Hog groom’s cake.” Grinning, she stabbed a piece of her steak. “In his vows, he used a play from the 2010 Cotton Bowl game.”
“Why in the world did you agree to that?” He couldn’t imagine her going along with any of it.
She shrugged. “It’s what he wanted.”
“Doesn’t the bride typically get what she wants?” He couldn’t understand why she’d proposed to Mitch, but it absolutely astonished him that she’d let him plan the entire wedding. She loved weddings and everything about them. Heck, she’d probably started planning her big day when she was a middle-schooler collecting images cut out of magazines. None of this made sense.
She shrugged again, not looking up at him.
“Libby.”
She lifted her gaze to his.
He paused. “Yeah, Mitch is a great guy, but he wasn’t the right guy for you.” He held up his hand in case she started to protest. “And no, this isn’t me gloating.”
Something like regret filled her eyes. “You have every right.”
He gave a small shake of his head. “Nope. Not even a little.” He turned serious. “But one day, you’ll meet a guy who can give you the kind of love your friends have found, because that’s what you deserve, Libby. A guy who will stand by your side no matter what, then sweep you off your feet while he’s giving you the stars and moon.” He hoped that guy was him, particularly since a band of jealousy coiled around his heart at the notion of some other man giving that to her. The feeling was unsettling; he’d never been jealous like this before.
Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to find that, Noah. It’s too late.”
“Bullshit. You’re not even thirty yet.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
A soft smile lit up her face. “You’re the only man who’s ever liked me for me. ”
“What does that mean?”
“Guys always see the outside. They rarely pay attention to the inside.”
Guilt washed through him. How many times had he been so dazzled by a woman’s beauty, he’d ignored everything else about her? And while he’d seen firsthand how many men openly gawked at Libby, it had never occurred to him to ask how she felt about it. “Not every man is like that, Lib. Look at Josh.” And me. But he couldn’t tell her that. She was still raw over her breakup with Mitch. He didn’t want to be her rebound.
She pursed her lips and didn’t answer.
He decided to change the subject, although he wasn’t sure the one he was moving on to was any safer. “So you called Megan.”
She sighed. “Mitch said she and Blair were freaking out.” A grin cracked her lips. “Blair
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