Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris

26

It’s early when I wake, and I take my coffee back to bed and crawl under the covers, cradling the steaming mug in my hand. I can’t face Alex yet, so I’m hiding in here like the coward I am.

I stumbled out of Luke’s last night in such a state, I’m surprised I was even able to remember Alex’s address for the cab driver. I was trying to focus on breathing and avoiding a panic attack, and when the cab finally pulled up at the apartment I couldn’t recall how we’d got there. Thankfully, Alex and Michael were in bed when I got in, so they didn’t see me losing it. I went straight to my room and spent hours researching jewelers online, but you have to make an appointment which means it wouldn’t be ready in time, and only a handful work in the specialized antique style of Alex’s ring. After that, I crawled into bed. Luke texted to ask if I was okay, but I was too exhausted to reply. Not that I could sleep; every time I was on the cusp of dozing off, my mind would remind me that I might have fucked up my sister’s wedding and ruined everything.

I tap the hot mug in my hand now, feeling calmer in the cool light of morning. There has to be a way to salvage this. I’ll call a handful of jewelers today and take my chances. If I offer more money I might be able to elbow my way to the top of the list. Surely it doesn’t need to go to that specific jeweler. Gold is gold, right? Even if it is a Hawkins family heirloom, there must be someone who can resize it without having to know all about the style, or whatever. And what was so special about that style, anyway?

Setting my mug down, I reach for my bag to inspect the ring. My hand roots through its contents, landing on tissues, my wallet, lipstick, hairbrush, headphones…

Dread snakes through me as my hand fails to touch a small, velvet box. I force myself to take a calming breath, praying I’m overreacting. It’s here. Of course it’s here. I dump the contents of my bag out onto my lap and stare at it.

The ring isn’t here.

My chest seizes as I frantically check the lining and pockets of my bag.

Still no ring. My stomach turns inside-out.

Where the fuck is it?

I know I grabbed it from Luke’s last night. At least, I’m sure I did. I was so distraught, I barely remember leaving. Is it possible I dropped it in the cab? Or when I climbed onto the sidewalk?

Please. This can’t be happening.

I whip the covers off, stuffing my things back into my bag with trembling hands. I need to retrace my steps. I need to see Luke. He’ll know what to do, how to fix this. He has to.

I throw on my clothes and dash out of the room, relieved to see Alex isn’t up. I scrawl her a quick note to say I’m doing wedding things all day, then scramble down the stairs and outside.

The cab ride to Luke’s is a blur. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins and I can’t breathe properly. The only thing keeping me sane is the same thought on repeat, over and over: Luke will know what to do. He’ll make this okay.

When I get to his building, I key in the code and practically sprint up the stairs. Then I pound on his door with my fists, my heart drumming in my ears.

Come on, Luke. I need you.

He opens the door in sweats, groggy and yawning. “Harriet?”

“I’ve lost the ring,” I blurt, pushing past him into the apartment. My eyes scour the table where I last remember seeing it, but it’s not there. A cold sweat beads along my brow as I turn back to Luke. “I had it when I left and now I can’t find it.” My breathing is so shallow I feel faint.

Luke closes the door. “It’s okay, I’ve—”

“It’s not!” Hot tears sting my eyes but I don’t care. “I don’t know what to do, Luke. Alex—”

“Harriet, I’ve got it.”

“What?”

He crosses the room, reaching for me. “I’ve got the ring.”

My chest caves in. I suck in a faltering breath and my body goes limp as Luke gathers me into his arms.

“You left it here last night.”

“Oh my God.” A tear escapes down my cheek and I bury my face in Luke’s T-shirt. “I thought I’d lost it.” His palm moves in a gentle circle on my back, and I stay like that, nuzzled against him, letting my pulse slow and my hands stop shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Luke murmurs after a while, and I draw back to look at him, adjusting my wonky glasses. “I thought you knew you’d left it here. Plus, I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?”

“Yeah.” His mouth slants into an uncertain, lop-sided smile. “I have an old college friend whose wife is a jeweler, and I only thought to call her after you left. I dropped it off late last night and she promised she’d have it ready for me later today.”

“Are you… are you serious?”

Luke nods. His brow pinches as he examines my face. “Are you okay?”

“I…” I inhale slowly, feeling exhausted. I probably look exhausted, too. “Yes. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted.” This is one of the worst parts of having anxiety. In the moment the panic feels so real, but others don’t see it like that. They just see you losing your shit, and then looking stupid after everything you worried about turns out to be fine. I dip my head, ashamed, but he tilts my chin back up to him.

“You didn’t overreact.” He presses a soft kiss to my mouth. “I know how much this wedding means to you, and you didn’t want things with us to get in the way.”

“You must think I’m ridiculous.”

“No.” He shakes his head, gazing at me tenderly. “I think you care about your sister and her wedding.”

“I just feel so guilty, Luke. Being with you when I know the others wouldn’t like it, keeping it from Alex…”

“I get it. I’m not crazy about keeping this from Mike either, especially with Dena coming to the wedding.” He grimaces. “But I can’t—”

“I know,” I say when I see the anguish line his forehead. I think of what he told me last night about Dena and his difficult relationship with his dad. “It’s okay. I know.”

“Look, do you want to stop?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then takes a big breath and steps away. “I’ll understand if you do.”

I gaze at the man in front of me—the handsome, thoughtful man who took me to a board game cafe, who encourages my idea, who talks about games and books with me for hours, and gives me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known. When I thought I’d lost the ring this morning, the only person I wanted to see was him. He felt like the only one who would know how to comfort me, how to make everything better, and he did. Even though he saw me for the anxious mess I really am, he’s still showing me nothing but kindness. Not just kindness—acceptance. Affection. Desire. He saw me fall apart and he still wants me.

And that makes me feel things that are well beyond my control now.

“I don’t think I can,” I whisper.

His eyes soften with relief and a rush of air leaves his lungs. Then he reaches a hand to the nape of my neck, stroking his thumb over my cheek. “If you’d said yes, I would have respected that and tried to make it work. But…” He pauses, and his voice is edged with emotion when he finally says, “I’m so glad you didn’t.”

I step forward, lifting my mouth to his. The tension in my body ebbs away as his lips brush mine and his hands slide up my back.

“We won’t let anything else interfere with the wedding, okay? I promise you that. I can’t stand seeing you so stressed out.” He rests his forehead against mine. “What do we still need to do?”

“We need to get the ring and collect mine and Alex’s dresses, as well as the tuxes. We have to make wedding favors for everyone, and put together some welcome gifts for people coming from out of town. Then it’s just setting things up in the reception hall when we arrive and making sure the day goes smoothly.”

“I’m going to help with all of that, okay? This isn’t just your job. It’s our job.”

Gratitude sinks into my bones. “Thank you.” Even though he’s taken so much weight off my shoulders, I feel myself droop. After the stress of last night and this morning, I’m suddenly so tired I could collapse.

He smooths a hand over my unruly hair, half twisted up into a bun, assessing me. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

I chuckle wryly. “Do I look like shit?”

“You could never look like shit.” He kisses my forehead. “But you do look tired. It’s still early, why don’t you come get some sleep?”

I nibble my lip, glancing down at the dress I threw on in a rush. “I don’t have anything…”

“You can borrow a shirt. Come on.” He takes my hand and guides me into the bedroom. Then he goes to the dresser, pulling out a black T-shirt. “Here,” he says, grinning when he hands it over.

I hold it up to see a picture of baby Yoda—or Grogu, as he’s actually called—and smile sleepily. “Aw, I love The Mandalorian.”

“Of course you do, baby. You think I didn’t know that?”

I stare at him, blinking. He just called me “baby.” Like I’m… his. It makes my insides all hot and messy with so many emotions I’m too tired to process.

But one thing is clear: I fucking love it.

Luke cringes. “Sorry,” he says, his cheeks coloring. “That was… I don’t know why I called you that.”

I shake my head, pushing up onto my toes to kiss him. “I don’t mind it. I think I quite like it, actually.”

His fingers curl into my waist. “I think I like calling you that. I’ve never called anyone that.”

I’m too sleepy to really think about what this means—Luke calling me baby when I’m leaving and everything feels so complicated. And I don’t want to think about what it means. I just want to sink into the beauty of this moment with him. All these tiny moments we have together before the wedding happens, and I have to leave, and everything goes away.

I pull off my dress and Luke spins around so he can’t see. It makes me laugh. “You’ve seen me naked, what are you doing?”

“I don’t trust myself not to touch you,” he says, raking a hand over his scalp. “I want to let you sleep.”

I giggle as I remove my bra and tug the shirt over myself. I undo the bun on my head and set my glasses on his nightstand, then climb into bed. “Will you touch me later?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, turning back to the bed and slipping under the covers beside me. “I won’t be able to stop myself after snuggling with you.”

He brings his arms around my back and draws me in close, so my nose is tucked right into his chest, against his warmth. I can hear his heart beating, and in the cocoon of his arms, the stillness of his room, a feeling of utter tranquility settles over me.

Wow. I haven’t felt this calm for…

Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this calm.

Luke presses his lips to my head, stroking his fingers over my back in slow circles, and I decide that in this moment, nothing else matters. Right now, all that matters is the way he’s holding me. The way it feels like the best thing in the world.