only weddings, remember?”
Her laugh was throaty. “God, yes, I remember. It was also three years ago. I don’t think I gave myself the possibility I’d love what I do so much. I never expected to love running my own business.”
“Well, you have more freedom and control this way. Still, I always envisioned you barefoot on a tropical beach somewhere, with a floral crown on your head.”
She tilted her head, face amused. “A romantic view, I’d say. But I’ve got more business in my blood than you think. If I do run off to that island, it will only be because I sold my shop for a crapload of money and I’m on vacation.”
He nodded, impressed. “That good, huh?”
“That good. I’m always booked, my rent’s low, and I’ve made some contacts that allow me to compete with those snobby boutiques from the city. You know, the kind you snubbed your nose at?” she teased.
“I remember. Good for you, Dev.”
Their gazes met, and she smiled at him. He realized she had changed in many ways since they’d first dated. Her energy seemed more focused. She’d always viewed time as a free-flowing thing but used to hold an edge that was now softened. Gabe remembered her hunger to experiment and push him out of his boundaries, as if competing in a race to do more, or be more. They simply hadn’t matched.
Maybe things had changed.
“What about you? Are you satisfied with your choices?” she asked, her long hair swishing past her bare shoulders. She’d worn a short cotton floral dress and white fringe sandals—her style a bit bohemian but always chic.
He sipped his martini and seriously pondered the question. “I’m happy at Sunshine Bridal,” he said. “I feel like I found my niche and enjoy my work. I’m satisfied.”
She arched a brow. “Satisfied is quite a vanilla-type word.”
He chuckled. “Better than gray, I guess.”
“But a cop-out. Not like you.” She studied him for a moment. “You haven’t been in a relationship since us, have you?”
He focused on his plate. Bella’s face swam before him, but he firmly pushed it away. “No.”
“Interesting. You always said you wanted to settle down—that was one of the main points of us breaking it off. Yet all I seem to hear about is your amazing weekend conquests.”
Irritation prickled. “Overrated. Gossip feeds gossip around here. It’s getting old.”
“Ever think about working in Manhattan? Or Atlantic City? A place where you can spread your wings, so to speak?”
Before, he would have shut down the idea immediately. Now, even though the idea of leaving a job he loved with people who’d become family gave him pause, he wondered if he needed to seriously consider it. “Not really. But like you, things have changed, and maybe I’ll be more open to opportunities.”
“I think that’s a good toast, don’t you?” Devon lifted her glass and entangled her wrist around his, leaning in. “To new opportunities.”
Her brown eyes gleamed, and though nothing inside him buzzed in reaction, he knew it would take him some time. Which was perfect, because he wanted to take his next relationship slow and steady. He lifted his glass. “Salud.”
The toast was both a mourning for what would never be and a celebration of a new chapter.
He smiled at Devon and drank.
Taylor groaned, wandering around the house with a pathetic slump to her shoulders. “I’m blocked. I’m going to tank the whole art show. I’ll be stuck at Sunshine Bridal until I’m as old as Vera, dealing with PITAs and overly cute flower girls who can’t follow instructions. I want to die.”
Bella clamped her lips shut to keep from laughing. “Damn, girl, you are in a mood,” she said. “Don’t you have a wedding tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how come you’re not attached to your laptop like Avery and me, double-checking everything to be sure disaster doesn’t befall you?”
Her sister shrugged and dropped onto the couch. She wore slipper socks, faux-leather leggings, and a yellow T-shirt that said I HATE LOVE & WEDDINGS, which had been a joke for Christmas. Unfortunately, it had now become her fave item of clothing. “Because I’m not dorks like you both. I’m a confident woman who knows everything will be fine. Why are you home?”
“I’m going to pick up Zoe soon. She’s playing with Meg, and Daisy said she’d feed them. I have to do a luncheon tomorrow, so I want to get to bed early.”
“Will you go get me dinner, then?” she asked, batting her lashes in an exaggerated gesture. “I’m craving sushi. And tacos.”
She winced.