Manning entered the kitchen and set two coffee mugs and a pitcher of creamer in front of us. “I wasn’t sure how you take it,” he told Val, handing me some sugar packets from his pocket and leaving the rest on the table.
“Thank you,” she said, ripping one open. “This wedding crap is exhausting. You read my mind.”
“He’s good at that.” My face warmed as I remembered his earlier comment about drinking coffee to prepare for our night ahead.
He winked. Yep—definitely a mind reader. “Drink up, wife,” he ordered.
“I really love the wedding arch,” Val said, balling up an empty packet. “Did you make it?”
“With help from Charles.” Manning turned to leave. “Let me know if you girls need a refill.”
“How about the food?” she asked. “Was it your idea?”
He paused, looking back. “What?”
“Manning planned almost everything,” I said. “Barbeque was his idea. I picked the color scheme, and he designed the ceremony and reception. He made all the arrangements for our honeymoon to the South of France, too.”
“Wow. You’re a machine, Manning.”
“A machine in love,” he agreed.
“Ah . . .” Val shifted in her seat, adjusting the top of her dress. “I’m sorry I ever, you know, doubted you.”
“I’m not,” he said. “You were looking out for her when nobody else was.”
“Except Corbin.” Val straightened in her seat. “He was always good to her. I feel like you should acknowledge that.”
Manning’s eyes dropped to mine. Corbin had no longer become a touchy subject between us, but that didn’t mean Manning had completely conquered those feelings of jealousy. He wasn’t about to concede in that department.
“He knows,” I answered for him.
“You and I have spent enough time together now,” she told Manning, “but I think a small part of me always worried you’d hurt her again.”
“I won’t,” he said simply.
“Then I guess I can relax.”
He turned to face her. “Are we good?”
Val knew all of Manning’s and my darkest secrets. She’d been there for most of our relationship, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on every time he’d devastated me. But they’d each wanted the same thing for me from the start—happiness. There was no denying I’d found it, and no more reason to fight.
“Just don’t give Corbin a hard time.”
Manning showed her his palms. “He keeps his hands to himself and there’s no problem.”
She grinned. “I’ll make sure his hands are on me at all times.”
He nodded at me. “Need anything?”
“I’m fine. I won’t be long.”
Once he’d pushed out of the screen door and disappeared down the steps, I said, “You have no idea how happy you’ve made him with this news.”
“He doesn’t still get jealous over Corbin, does he?”
“No, not truly.” I grinned. “But he gets his hackles up when they’re in the same vicinity.”
“Dogs,” she said, shaking her head. “All of them. They’re literally reduced to their animal instincts.”
Val had no idea how true that was for Manning—and how much I relished his primal behavior. Or that I planned to encourage it tonight. I shivered, trying to mentally cool down so I could focus on the conversation at hand. “What were we talking about?”
“Nothing. We should probably leave things for now.” She stood. “We can get into more detail another time.”
At the thought of her ending the story of her and Corbin already, before we’d gotten to any of the juicy details, I was suddenly ravenous for more. Lots more. I must’ve been pretty okay with it after all. “Where are you going?” I cried.
“Nowhere,” she said, grabbing a dishtowel from the oven handle. She held it out to me. “You’re making me nervous as fuck with that coffee.”
I glanced down. I’d completely forgotten I was wearing cream, but fortunately, I’d avoided disaster so far. I took the towel and tucked it into the neckline of my dress, smoothing it down to my lap. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Then sit,” I demanded.
“We don’t have to talk about this today. You should be out there with your guests.”
“If you don’t tell me everything right now, I’ll be forced to torture you.”
She leaned her hands on the back of her chair, leveling me with a look. “You’re a vet, Lake. You wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“I’m not talking about physical pain.” I smiled sweetly. “I’ll just describe all the ways Manning and I plan to consummate our marriage.”
“Oh my God—gross,” she said, covering her ears. “Fine! I’ll talk.”
I laughed, sipping my coffee. “So did Corbin have any idea how you felt?”
“None.” She plopped back into the dining chair. “In New York, I thought Julian was ‘the one’ and that I’d moved on from Corbin, but the thing was, he was always there when Julian was a dick. It made my feelings for him really confusing.”
“And let me guess—Corbin never even suspected.”
“He lives in his own world,” she said, and we each bobbed our heads in agreement. “He was too concerned with what you were doing—and all his side-ass. But when everything went down with the Twin Towers . . .”