Page 86 of Passing Ships
“Just saving you from a felony charge, Sailor,” she says, pleased with herself.
“Don’t look now, but Sebastian’s future monster-in-law is headed our way,” I inform her as I look over her shoulder and watch as Avie’s mother approach us.
“Amiya, thank goodness I found you. The bakery called. They tried to deliver the cake this afternoon, and the venue was locked. No one was there to let them in. Now, we have no wedding cake.”
Amiya plants on a patient smile and turns to face the frantic woman. “Don’t worry, Momma C. The best man and maid of honor have everything under control. Don’t we?” she asks as she glances over her shoulder at me.
“Yeah, we’re the dream team over here. We’ll go pick up the cake and take it to the banquet hall, Mrs. Carrigan.”
Avie’s mother sighs. “Aw, aren’t you sweet? And please call me Naomie. We’re going to be family after all,” she says as she pats my cheek and then turns to Amiya. “Amiya, why can’t you find yourself a nice young man like Lennon here?”
Amiya raises a brow. “Nice, huh?”
“Her last boyfriend was a bit abrasive,” Naomie whispers to me.
“Abrasive?” I try to suppress a grin as my eyes meet Amiya’s.
“She’s speaking Georgia peach again. Let me translate. He was a fucking prick.”
“Is that right?”
Naomie nods. “He was. A total prick. I sure hope this Allen fella is a better match.”
That gets my attention, and my eyes come back to the mother of the bride.
“Allen?” I ask.
“Yes, Amiya’s date for the wedding,” she clarifies.
“Crap, I forgot about him,” Amiya mutters.
My eyes flit to her. She’s standing there with her eyes wide. Her teeth worry her bottom lip.
“He’s just a friend, client actually, who agreed to be my plus-one.”
“A friend,” I repeat.
Naomie’s eyes volley between the two of us. “Is everything okay? You two seem tense.”
I shove my hands that I’ve balled into fists into the pockets of my slacks and look back at her. “Everything’s fine. We’ll take care of the cake. Please enjoy yourself and don’t fret about a thing.”
The wrinkle of upset between her brows smooths, and she smiles a grateful smile.
“You kids are the best,” she says.
One of the guests calls her attention, and she hurries off to greet them.
My eyes shoot back to Amiya.
“Don’t give me that look,” she snaps.
“What look is that exactly?” I grit out.
“That brooding, pissed-off, I’m-going-to-bend-you-over-my-knee look.”
I cluck my tongue. “I just find it funny that five minutes ago, you were giving me shit for chatting with Jenna, yet you have an Allen coming to town?”
“I wasn’t giving you shit.”