Realizing both women were waiting for his response, he grinned, hoping it looked more normal than he felt. “Dree, if this is your way of snooping for details…”

“Told you,” Audrey said with a dramatic sigh for Michelle. “He won’t give me even a hint.”

After Michelle had turned away, Audrey gave him a quick wink. She knew full well that he wasn’t planning a honeymoon and was merely looking for him to play along to get out of the conversation.

But suddenly he was thinking about it. Why shouldn’t they go on vacation together? Maybe Paris in April or some Greek villa.

The back area of the store was even more feminine than the front, if that was possible. A large, circular pale pink tufted couch was in the center of the room, beneath an enormous chandelier. Positioned around the seating area were dressing rooms, with heavy pink curtains that could be pulled for privacy.

“Okay, if you two want to have a seat here,” Michelle was saying. “I’d already set a few things aside for you before you got here, but after seeing you in person, I’ve got a few more ideas. That long dark hair is going to look so fabulous against our white bridal line.”

Clarke began shifting awkwardly in the chair, trying to get more comfortable.

“Give me just a minute,” Michelle was saying. “Feel free to make yourselves at home, take pictures, whatever you want.”

Audrey already had her phone out and was taking a video of the sitting area. He noted she was using the lens he’d gotten her for Valentine’s Day and felt a surge of happiness around his increasing panic that he couldn’t sort out his own emotions.

“Clarke, look like you want to be here,” she instructed when the camera pointed at him. He lifted his beer and smiled dutifully.

“Perfect.” She came toward him and, flopping on the couch beside him, held the camera out to take a selfie. “Smile! Oh wait, hold on. Shoot, this is why people have selfie sticks.”

He sat patiently for about twenty seconds as she tried to find an angle that would capture both of them before setting his beer on a fussy-looking side table and taking the phone out of her hand. “Longer arms.”

They’d taken selfies dozens of times over the years—hundreds—and he was used to her body pressed against his side, her cheek near his, but those were friend selfies. And though she was still his friend, and though their engagement was not a typical one, that pose didn’t feel like enough.

Now, urged by some unidentifiable need, Clarke wanted something different. He craved something more. Not that he could tell her that. He glanced down at Audrey. “How’s the Scandal Boy situation?”