Home > All the Wright Moves (Wright #12)

All the Wright Moves (Wright #12)
Author: K.A. Linde



Part I












There was absolutely no way that she just said what I thought she said.

No way.

Not in a hundred million years.

Tamara stared back at me expectantly. Maybe even hopeful. But I still could not process a word that had come out of her mouth. Let alone that she was standing in my office at Wright Vineyard at all. Certainly not for this.

“Nora?” she asked with a flip of her bright red hair.

I had no response.

I hadn’t seen my ex–best friend in a solid ten months. And it was for the better since she’d slept with my boyfriend of three years. I’d moved out of our apartment the next day, blocked her number, and avoided her at all costs.

Now, she was here.

And hey, I loved planning weddings. I’d been doing it for years, ever since I’d interned at a prestigious company here in Lubbock during college. Now, I ran my own ship at my brother’s vineyard and got to work with dozens of beautiful brides-to-be.

I’d always envisioned my own wedding. Might or might not have secretly planned the entire thing with my ex, August, while we were together. It was my job after all.

But I certainly hadn’t considered planning this wedding.

My ex–best friend was standing in front of me.

Asking me to plan her wedding.

To my ex.

“Come again?” I said, blinking in confusion.

She thrust the shiny diamond in my face. “We got engaged!”

As if that were the part that I’d missed.

“Right,” I said slowly.

“It happened yesterday, downtown at West Table. He popped the question right there at a candlelit dinner. The entire room applauded for us.”

Whatever she said after that was lost to my blood pressure, which chose that moment to shoot through the roof. Blood rushed into my ears, my heart rate skyrocketed, and everything went perfectly quiet.

Except, you know, my mind.

I couldn’t stop replaying every single thing that had happened in my life to reach this moment. Tamara dating August senior year of high school for a whole three months before dumping him for some football player. August and I reconnecting our junior year of college, and Tamara encouraging me to go for it. I’d had exactly zero boyfriends, and when he’d asked me out, I’d said yes. Yes, yes, yes.

Usually, guys were scared off by two things: Hollin and Campbell. My two older brothers were terrifying in their own rights. Hollin was huge, tatted, and drove a Harley while Campbell was literally the biggest rockstar in the world right now. Add that to the fact that when I got around guys, I turned into a shy, tongue-tied wallflower, and it had never been a good match.

Three years with August. Three years, and I’d been sure he was the one. Whatever that meant. Then last summer, I’d caught him making out with Tamara backstage at an event. Hollin had punched August in the face, I had been spirited away, and suddenly, my life was over. No boyfriend. No best friend. No apartment.

All to land me in this radioactive, boiling hell.

Tamara must have finally realized I wasn’t listening. She’d never been quick on the uptake. “Nora, aren’t you excited for us?” Her voice was syrupy sweet. As if she knew precisely what card she was playing here.

I hated conflict unless it was work-related.

“Um…” I shook my head and cleared my throat.

“So, will you do it? We were thinking a fall wedding here at the vineyard with lots and lots of flowers. You know how much I love fresh blooms. We always used to keep them in our apartment. Plus, August loves—”

“I’m going to stop you there,” I said firmly but kindly.

Tamara’s mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. She was the kind of extrovert who collected introverts to follow her around and pad her ego. She’d lost that when she betrayed me. I didn’t owe her anything at this point. And certainly not the rest of this conversation.

Before I’d gotten my wedding planning gig, I’d worked at Best Buy for eight months and perfected the way to say fuck off with a smile and doe eyes. I was always professional. I was always perfectly nice. But I brooked no argument.

Customer service voice activate!

“As much as I appreciate you coming to the winery today to talk to us about your upcoming nuptials, we’re fully booked for the fall. We couldn’t even fit in one more client.” I smiled at her in a go fuck yourself way, teetering on my signature four-inch high heels and tapping the large brown planner I used for the season.

“Well, what about next spring?” Tamara pushed.

“Oh, that would be lovely. Spring flowers and all,” I said serenely. I pretended to check the schedule. “I’m afraid not.”

“You cannot be booked through next spring.”

“Oh, we’re not. But unfortunately, the vineyard will be unavailable to you at that time. Anything else?”

“You can’t refuse me service,” Tamara snapped.

We were perfectly within our rights to say no to whoever we wanted. And I hadn’t even said no. I’d smiled and looked pleasant. I might have been a wallflower with boys, but I wasn’t going to be pushed around by the woman who had hurt me. Not at work, where I was in my element.

“We’re certainly not refusing you service,” I told her calmly. “However, you’re not entitled to a wedding here, and I don’t think we’d be a good fit.”

“Nora, come on,” Tamara said, reaching for fake tears. I knew that trick all too well. “You’re my best friend. I miss you so much. I hoped this would bring us back together.”

“That’s lovely for you.” I blinked at her and said nothing else.

Tamara’s jaw set. She wanted me to say more. To feed into her ego and give her ammunition to use against me. But I’d cried enough tears at the loss of this friendship. If she had come back in those first few months when I was a broken mess, I might have even relented. Been the trampled dog she’d created all those years ago.

But I’d found out that I could survive on my own. I still missed having her around. I missed our stupid inside jokes and sleepovers and parties. That wasn’t enough to fix this.

Tamara stomped her foot like a child when they didn’t get their way. “Nora, how dare you! This is ridiculous! You’re supposed to be providing a service.”

I opened my mouth to reach for those customer service instincts. Because all I wanted was to tell my ex-bestie to fuck off and never see her face on the property again. Except I couldn’t do that at work.

A knock at the door saved me from saying anything I’d regret.

I turned to welcome the new guest and stilled.

Everything seemed to go into slow motion at the sight of Weston Wright filling up my doorframe.

“West?” I gasped.

He slung a hand up onto the top of the frame and leaned forward through the door. He smirked, revealing the hidden dimple in his right cheek. “Hey, Nor.”

The way he rolled over my name sent a thrill through my stomach. I hadn’t seen my roommate in six months, when he’d left for LA with my brother to record his next album. The house was a temporary fix to the Tamara and August problem. I’d stay until he got back, and then I’d find another place.

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