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brief greeting when she arrived with a carload of boxes of wedding favors and other stuff, Grace hadn’t spoken to him. Messages and requests came via his staff, and he was beginning to think she was avoiding him intentionally. One thing he did know was that Grace was able to focus with laserlike precision on a task—both professionally and recreationally, his body reminded him—so he didn’t take issue with it. Too much.
    Anyway, he had his own tasks to occupy him. The boxes of fresh produce arriving needed to be checked against the invoice, and the kitchen itself was busy with assistants peeling shrimp and preparing marinades in preparation for tomorrow.
    He heard his name and looked up to see Honey navigating her way carefully through the organized chaos. Her eyes widened as she looked around. “This is a lot of food.”
    “You’ve got a lot of people coming.”
    “I know.” Those big brown eyes took on a slightly wild look. “It’s going to be a disaster, I just know it.”
    “Hey, now,” he teased, “don’t go insulting me in my own kitchen.”
    Honey’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean you—I mean, that the food—would be…”
    He should know better than to tease any bride, but especially Honey. “I know what you meant. Everything is going to be perfect tomorrow. Trust me, I’ve done dozens of weddings here, and yours is nowhere near disaster stage.”
    That seemed to mollify her, however briefly. Before Honey could find something else to stress over, though, he asked, “So what brings you to my kitchen?”
    “Gracie Lee—Grace,” she corrected herself, “told me to come ask you for a glass of wine.”
    “For her?”
    “No, for me. She says I’m starting to stress and need to spend at least fifteen minutes on the front porch swing with a glass of wine thinking about nothing but my future happiness.”
    Grace was no fool. Even he could see that Honey was near the breaking point, even if she was trying to put a good face on for everyone. He got a glass. “Sounds like an excellent idea. White or red?”
    “White.” She shrugged. “I think Grace just wants me out from under her feet for a few minutes. The girl’s a general.”
    He laughed. “I think my staff would agree with you.”
    “It’s funny. Looking back, who would have ever thought little Gracie Lee had it in her? She was always so quiet.”
    The change in topic seemed to calm Honey a little, so he encouraged it. “Honey, everyone is quiet compared to you,” he teased.
    She took the glass he offered, then slapped his arm. “Don’t be mean to me. I’m the bride.”
    “No one could ever be mean to you.”
    She waved the comment away. “But I had a long think after I saw her the other day, and I realized how mean we’d all been to her , though. Me included.” She shook her head. “It’s shameful, really.”
    “Teenage stuff.”
    “Teenage stuff still leaves scars,” she said quietly, making him wonder what her scars might be. “In her shoes, I’d probably be tempted to sabotage something tomorrow in revenge. Daddy’s giving her a big bonus for taking this on, but I feel like I should do something nice for her, too. Maybe take her to lunch?”
    “To make amends?”
    “That, and as a thank-you, too, but after talking to her, I kind of like her. She seems cool, like she might be a good friend to have. Do you think she’d be open to that? Be willing to forgive and forget and move on?”
    Grace had certainly been willing to do exactly that last night. “I think you’ve got a good chance she would.”
    Honey leveled a stern look at him. “You should really apologize to her, too, you know. She gets this weird look on her face every time someone mentions your name.”
    That didn’t sound right.
    “I’m not sure I’d ever be able to forgive you for something like that,” Honey continued, “but it would still be the right thing for you to do.”
    How to answer? “I’ve only recently become aware of the part I