Her Best Friend's Wedding. Abby Gaines
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Sadie toed a crack in the sidewalk with her sneaker. “Of course Daniel is attracted to Meg. I’ve never met a man who wasn’t. But I deal in facts and logic, and the fact is, he and Meg have nothing in common.”
“Opposites attract,” he retorted. “Which makes them the ideal couple.” He didn’t exactly believe that, but even when Sadie had been a teenager, there’d been no room for pussyfooting. You had to come down hard with your opinion and stick to it through whatever obscure logic that brain of hers devised.
“I think he’s confused,” she said thoughtfully, as if Daniel was a seed under a microscope. “He’s at an age where it’s natural to think about a long-term relationship. But a part of him is rebelling against commitment. Subconsciously he’s choosing someone unsuitable, guaranteed not to work out.”
This wasn’t logic—this was denial on a global scale.
“Sadie, I don’t think Daniel is rebelling against commitment.”
Something flashed across her face. Fear? “I believe most men do at some stage,” she said with a hint of uncertainty. “Look at you, a classic example. Over thirty, by most women’s standards a hot guy—” the crinkle in her forehead made it plain she found most women’s taste questionable “—and still playing the field like super jock, according to your sister.”
“I’m not afraid of commitment. I have way too much commitment in my life. And Daniel’s not afraid, either.” Aware of his muscles cooling off and starting to stiffen, Trey began jogging.
Sadie trotted at his side. “Trey, it doesn’t matter which of them realizes first how unsuited they are, I’m certain this thing will end soon.” Conviction grew in her voice. “It would be pointless for me to hold it against Daniel forever that he’d once liked Meg.”
The sentiment went against Trey’s deepest belief: being second choice was no choice at all.
“I believe he and Meg are serious,” he said.
They ran in silence for a minute or two. As they turned the corner onto Arlington, they passed the Jones place. Where once there had been two tons of dirt and a tangle of scrub, there was now a flowing garden that invited people to linger among its colors and scents. It was one of Kincaid Nurseries’ biggest success stories, but it had almost been a disaster. After demanding several redesigns, Mrs. Jones had fired Kincaid’s because the company’s landscape designer “didn’t get it.” When Trey visited her to discuss the problem, it turned out he and Mrs. Jones were on the same horticultural wavelength. Although he wasn’t a landscape designer—most of his time was spent on the management side of the business rather than on the plants—they’d reworked the design together. The client had been delighted with the result.
Sadie stopped running. She steadied herself with a hand to the trunk of a maple tree; Trey could see a tremor in her calf muscles.
“Meg loves parties and travel. Daniel is sensible and responsible and settled,” she said when she’d caught her breath.
For someone who was convinced she was right, she was working awfully hard to prove her point.
“They have less in common than—than you and I do,” she continued.
“If you really want a boyfriend, wouldn’t it be simpler if you found someone else?” he asked. “Come on, Sadie, there must be other—”
“I don’t just like Daniel,” she blurted. “I love him.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SADIE CRINGED. Trey was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
Then one side of his mouth rose and he said, “I love Daniel, too.”
She stumbled on her shoelace and would have sprawled headlong if Trey hadn’t caught her.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“Seems you and I have more in common than you thought.”
“What did you mean?” Because clearly he’d intended to put her off balance.
“Daniel is exactly what my sister needs,” he said. “What’s not to love?”
She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve had enough of your inane views. You can run a different way home.” She stepped off the curb.
Trey caught her hand. “I’m not done talking to you yet.”
“Too bad, because I’m done with you.” Her whole arm tingled. The overexertion was probably giving her a heart attack.
He tugged her backward, forcing her to step up onto the curb or trip over. “Come in here.” He indicated a white wooden gate set into a high fence.
Sadie shivered as perspiration cooled on her skin. “Quit ordering me around and quit dragging me.”
“Fine.” He folded his arms as if he might otherwise give in to his caveman instincts. “Please come into this garden with me, Sadie,” he said with excessive politeness.
“Why should I?”
“I don’t like arguing in the street. Mrs. Jones said I can show her garden to prospective clients anytime.”
“I’m not a client.”
“It’s a great garden,” Trey coaxed. “You’ll love it.”
He’d hit her soft spot. She might not be any good at growing plants, but she adored a beautiful garden.
And just maybe she was curious about why he thought Daniel and Meg would last.
Sadie stuck her chin in the air and preceded him through the gate. Then stopped.
“Oh, wow.” She gazed around the garden, scarcely hearing the clang of the gate closing behind her. A canopy of Japanese dappled willows. Crape myrtles. A redbud tree arcing over a pond filled with water lilies. It looked like a Monet painting, only better—impressionist art was too vague for her taste. “Trey, it’s gorgeous. Kincaid Nurseries designed this?”
“The concept was mine,” he said. “Our landscape architects refined it.”
“I didn’t know you were a designer.”
“I’m not,” he said. “How come you’re in love with Daniel? I thought your work overrode the urge to settle down like the rest of your siblings.”
Now that she’d stopped moving, every muscle in her body screamed. She sank onto the grass, ignoring the vestiges of dew. “You’re right that I’m not hanging out for the PTA meetings and the cupcake recipes,” she said. “But love isn’t something you plan. When you find someone special, you have to go for it.” She trailed her fingers through the pond water to find the waxy leaves of a water lily. “What if Daniel is the only man for me? My whole future could be at stake.”
“Sounds like your biological clock ticking,” he said, unimpressed. “You’re what, thirty?”
“Twenty-nine,” she said. “Same as Meg. And that stupid term was probably invented by some man afraid of commitment. Women are born with a fixed number of oocytes—egg cells to you—that decrease over forty years or so of fertility, starting around the age of twelve. Every woman’s biological clock is ticking, regardless of age.”
Trey wasn’t so easily distracted.
“Leave Meg and Daniel alone,” he said abruptly, sitting beside her.
She fingered the water lily. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“And stop mauling that lily.”
She bristled at the command, but stilled her fingers out of respect for the flower.
“It wouldn’t hurt to take a good look around before you decide Daniel is your fate, would it?” he asked. “There