Forever in Cape May (The Sunshine Sisters #3) - Jennifer Probst Page 0,4

lost a wedding cake before. Have you?”

“Nope. But technically, it didn’t happen to me. I’m just the photographer.”

She crunched on a pretzel. “I’ll never live this down,” she said glumly. “Susan asked if I knew a good divorce lawyer, like I keep business cards to distribute after I plan perfect weddings. We’re going to get killed on reviews for this one.”

“Not necessarily. You replaced the cake pretty quickly, so they were able to cut something. Hell, the bride even smooshed it in the groom’s face. I got a great shot.”

She groaned and took another slug of beer. “Thank God Pretty Tasty Cupcakes had a huge inventory. Saved my ass.”

“It was good thinking in an emergency.” His gaze lifted, and his familiar sea-green eyes met hers. “It’ll be a huge loss for your sisters when you go.”

She stiffened, refusing to feel guilty. She’d promised to help run the family business until they were on a solid foundation, but her goals had never included wedding planning. Now that Sunshine Bridal was booming, she was off to pursue her own dreams soon. It was finally her turn. “Trying to make me feel bad?” she asked sharply. “You think I should stay?”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, a telltale sign he was annoyed. “No. I’m trying to tell you how much you’re valued here. That you’ve made a difference.”

She softened and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, and the familiar strength and weight of his grip washed through her. Pierce had always been her safety in the storm of her usual unruly emotions, and the only man who’d ever been able to put up with her. “Sorry. It’s just that . . .” She trailed off, not sure how to express her thoughts.

He cocked his head. “What?”

“Ever since I booked that art show in Paris, you’ve been acting weird. I can’t put my finger on it. Are you mad at me?”

He jerked back. “No, of course not. You need to live your life. I just found it interesting I was the last to find out.”

Taylor caught the slight bitterness in his tone only because she’d been listening to every nuance of his husky voice since high school. Regret washed over her. He was right. When she’d made the decision, she’d told her family and Gabe—her coworker and Bella’s boyfriend—but not Pierce. Hell, she’d tried to tell him, but each time she’d thought about bringing it up, her stomach lurched and she made up an excuse to delay. “I apologized for that. Don’t take it personal.”

Pierce lifted a brow. “It was personal. I had to hear from my friends that you were leaving—I felt stupid. Don’t try to pretend it was nothing.”

This time, she bowed her head and spoke from her heart. “You’re right. I freaked out. It was easier to tell everyone else because I could still pretend it wasn’t real.” She threw her shoulders back and faced him, her gaze locking with his. “I’m really sorry, Pierce. You’ve always been my person. I figured once you knew, I’d have to deal with the reality of completing a series of paintings for other people to judge. I got scared.”

He let out a breath, and the firm set of his mouth relaxed. He reached out and touched her cheek, somehow knowing the contact would ease the awful vulnerability she tried desperately to avoid. It was another reason he was so important to her. He sensed exactly how to deal with all her moods and accepted her as is, wholeheartedly. “I get it. And I forgive you.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s the work going? How many pieces do you have left to do?”

“Too many.” She ate more pretzels, savoring the salt. “I only have eight weeks left to get three more paintings completed. But the worst part? I’m not even sure what I have is good enough. Something seems lacking.”

He gave a snort. “You always say that. The first few you showed me were amazing. When can I see the rest?”

She hesitated. Finally being able to show her work to an audience was a dream, but the reality was terrifying, especially if she failed. Usually, Pierce was the only one she allowed to see her paintings, which had always been intensely personal. When she confronted a blank canvas, she came alive, and all those messy emotions that got her in trouble in life became valuable. But these new projects were going to be seen by industry experts and strangers. They had to be

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