Meant to Be Yours - Susan Mallery Page 0,36

ready. Let him fly over a doctor or invite him to listen to the baby’s heartbeat or something. Ask for what you want, then offer him something he wants that you can live with.”

Bethany stared at her. “That could work. I like what you said.” She turned to Carol. “Can I have a piece of paper and a pen? I want to write that down. It was perfect. And you’re right about offering him something. I’ll say no to everything first, then compromise later. That way he feels as if he’s winning.”

“I told you she’d be good,” Carol said as she handed over a pad and pen.

“It comes from years of working with feuding wedding parties,” Renee said, her voice teasing. “Sometimes what Mom wants and what her daughter wants are not the same thing.” She smiled at Bethany. “I think I forgot to say congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. We’re both thrilled. There’s just the big royal thing to get over and then we’ll be fine. Now tell me again what you said.”

Renee worked with Bethany to get the statement how she wanted it. They talked for another thirty minutes or so, then Renee drove back to her office. On the way, she thought about how lucky Carol and Pallas were to have their babies. Now Bethany was pregnant. She would guess it was just a matter of time until Natalie and Silver were pregnant, too. She and Wynn were the only ones not married and Wynn had her son, Hunter, so she wasn’t totally alone.

It was hard to be left behind, Renee thought sadly as she waited at a light. She wanted it all—husband, kids, a normal life—and she couldn’t have it. She’d thought just sex might be enough but even that had gone spectacularly wrong. The universe was trying to tell her something and she should probably listen. When it came to a happily-ever-after, she was doomed to nothing but disappointment.

* * *

JASPER WAS WILLING to admit that he’d reached the virtual bottom of guydom. He wasn’t sorry about what he’d done, but he was sorry Renee was upset with him. The moral equivalent of not regretting the crime while disliking the consequences.

In the three days since it had all gone to hell with Renee, he’d emailed with Hanna three times, getting more details about their wedding, along with several stories about how they met and two pictures of their cat. They were a cute couple and he knew they would be a great resource and he should have been happy only he wasn’t. He felt guilty and possibly ashamed, although he wasn’t ready to admit the latter. Not yet. And if all the emotional angst wasn’t punishment enough, he couldn’t write.

This wasn’t the I don’t understand women so Mandy is a one-dimensional cliché. Nope, he actually couldn’t put words to paper.

He’d been trying. He had lots of ideas. He’d worked on the plot, had developed Mandy’s character a little more, all of which went fine, but when it came to writing the story, he sat in front of his computer and thought about how he’d screwed up with Renee.

Not that he was going to take it back. He wasn’t. He needed Hanna and Graham to help him. Plus, he wasn’t going to mess with their wedding. Not in a serious way. They were excited to be a part of his book, so it was possible he’d added to the wedding. They were special and didn’t everyone want to be special?

None of which helped with the lack of writing, so he finally gave up and drove to town. He went up and down the main streets, circling closer to Weddings Out of the Box but never actually getting there. At the last minute, he made a left turn and found his way to Wynn’s print shop. He parked and went inside.

He had no idea what he was going to say to her or why he was even here, which turned out not to be a problem. She took one look at him and called for one of her workers to man the front desk, then motioned for him to follow her into her office.

“What?” she demanded when she’d closed the door behind him. “What did you do?”

“Maybe I didn’t do anything.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Really? Then why are you here?”

She had the whole mom-stare down cold—no doubt due to years of practice. She looked good in black pants and

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