Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,89

hipster vibes to it and everything in between. Our glasses are full of champagne, I’ve organized notebooks and fabric samples and even saved a few of my favorite floral arrangements to a folder on the photo app on my cell.

I’m going to crush this maid of honor gig.

Now that the sting of the proposal, and my Nash-less heart being wounded, has subsided, I can feel complete happiness for Presley. What’s more, I’m honored she asked me to stand up for her. If wedding planning isn’t the funnest thing, as well, then give me another organizational system I can dive into.

Everything from keeping track of the flowers, to talking with caterers, to alterations, to guest count … the checklists were endless. And I loved checklists almost as much as I loved spreadsheets.

Plus, this was the exact kind of monumental planning job that could keep my mind off the almost-kiss with Bowen the night before. Not admitting it to the girls so we can dissect every frame of last night is carving an ulcer in my stomach … but I know that talking about it would be worse. Something is happening between Bowen and me, something that could either blossom, or more likely, bring the entire group down in flames if they were involved. I’d rather have my heart decimated quietly, alone, so that when it’s time to grieve the loss of us once more, I don’t have to answer to anyone.

“Ugh, just promise me you won’t go with the it-style of the moment. I think I’ve burned most of the pictures of my wedding. The bow-sash … the horror.” Penelope cringes next to me, and we all giggle at her.

I’m glad she’s part of this process, too. Who thinks, when they walk down the aisle and marry their forever man, that they’ll be a widow before they’re thirty? It’s a fate no one should ever have to face.

But I’m glad she’s smiling and joking … even if I do know how much of a cover-up it is to mask her emotions.

“No, I’m thinking strapless mermaid, with a bit of lace. I don’t work on these arms at my studio for nothing, I’m here to show these guns off on the big day.” Presley makes an impressive muscle.

“You deserve it.” I nod, agreeing with her. “Class the other day was like a spiritual revelation … you’re doing a great job.”

Presley blushes, her pale skin unable to hide any sort of reaction to a compliment. “Thanks, mama. Honestly, I owe it all to you. If you hadn’t pushed along and organized that first class in the park through the library …”

I wave her off. “Pushing people to do what I know will make them successful is part of the job description.”

She laughs and I join her. It’s true though; I love my job because it’s not just about books and rigid organization … although that side of being a librarian checks all my type A boxes. I truly do enjoy recommending reads to a person, whether it be for pleasure or, more likely, so that they can excel at something. A high school student researching for a paper, a mother who wants to learn a new dish, someone stuck in their career trying to find a new passion project … these are all things you can use books for. Basically, what I’m trying to say, is that books are magical.

“How do you feel about pink?” Penelope asks our bride.

“The same way you feel about spring break with all three of your kids at home.” Presley chuckles, taking a sip of her champagne.

Our resident mother warrior shudders. “Don’t even joke about that. It’s like surviving a nuclear fallout. There is cereal and poop and Legos everywhere.”

I have to laugh at this because I’ve babysat those boys and they sure are a handful. “But at the end of the day, you have three little faces loving up at you.”

Penelope nods. “That’s right. I popped three humans out of my vagina for built-in love. It’s not the worst plan … honestly, most mothers would be lying if they said that wasn’t an incentive of ruining said vagina.”

“Good lord.” I feel the blush steal over my face.

“Oh, come on, Lil … don’t act so innocent. You know you’d love some good attention south of the border.” Penelope waggles her eyebrows at me.

Instantly, my whole body is scarlet. “I … uh …”

“When is the last time you went on a date?” Presley slaps her magazine shut, and I