Dani hitched up her skirt so she wouldn’t trip as she stepped off the pedestal she’d been standing on for alterations. Without her even seeing him arrive—last she knew, Max had been on the other side of the room making strange faces at Mr. Benz’s back—Max was there with a hand.

He helped her down, which wasn’t unusual, but the fact that he did so without looking at her was. Max was solicitous. She’d gotten used to it and no longer even felt, much less indulged, the impulse to shut him down when he offered help. But usually a hand extended in a situation like this would come with a wink or a smile, or at least eye contact.

The other part that was unusual? She was shaking like a leaf. Not because of wedding nerves, but because of him. And it wasn’t just the generic “sex feelings.” It was a visceral wanting that was startling in both its intensity and suddenness. He was only touching her lightly with his hand, but it felt like he was touching her all over.

As soon as she was down, he let go.

Maybe he did remember her vow. Maybe it had popped into his head as suddenly as it had into hers, and now that he had it in mind he was actively not looking at her.

And if that was the case, why was she disappointed?

When the cars came to collect them, Dani went in one with Leo and Gabby, and Max got in another with Marie.

Thank god. Max couldn’t even look at Dani, which was an unsettling turn of events. Normally looking at Dani was one of life’s little pleasures.

But, oh, god, he was so screwed.

Something had happened to him when he’d walked into the room earlier and laid eyes on her. She’d been wearing a simple, white, body-hugging dress with a drapey neckline.

Max was not the kind of person who believed in visions, or fate, or any of that. But looking at Dani standing there in that white dress, her hair done up in an elaborate braided updo, he underwent some sort of . . . moment, a record skip in his chest, where he saw himself at a different wedding.

He had a moment when he thought, Mine.

And then the text from the lawyer, as if fate were a real thing, as if it had decided to favor him for once.

After the record in his chest stopped skipping, he’d ordered himself to calm down. It wasn’t as if he actually believed any of the stuff they’d joked about. She wasn’t going to jump the first man she saw. It wasn’t as if her marital status had truly been holding her back. It had merely been an excuse.