“He can wait,” she repeats then glares at my phone when it starts to ring. “Do not answer that.” Her tone is one I know to obey, one she’s used since I was little. Biting my lip, I sit back and listen to my cell ring and ring before going to voicemail.

“Now,” she continues when my phone goes silent. “I think the venue is a toss-up between Southhall Meadows and Springtree Farms. I called both, and if we book either one by the weekend, they can lock in the date.”

“Both are nice,” I say absently, looking at the cupboard above the fridge where I keep my tequila. Maybe if I’m drunk, this won’t feel like torture. Hell, maybe I can convince her to take a few shots and she’ll pass out.

“Asher called me. He said answer your phone,” Evan says, scaring the crap out of me when he steps into the room, wearing a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt that fits him snug, showing off the muscles of his torso. Coming up behind me, he rests his hands on my shoulders then leans down, kissing the top of my head.

“He called you too?” Mom frowns, looking at Evan, then drops her eyes to her phone when it starts to ring again. “Hello,” she answers on the second ring, then pauses, turning her body away from Evan and me. “Asher,” she hisses then mutters, “Fine, but I’m not happy, so you will not be happy either.”

“Is this the kind of thing I have to look forward to?” Evan asks, and I tilt my head back to look up at him, shrugging, which makes him shake his head, grin, and pull me up out of the chair so he can kiss me.

“Well, apparently I’ve been summoned by your father,” Mom says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be over tomorrow, and we’ll talk about the stuff we didn’t get settled tonight, since I need to get home.”

“Next week,” Evan cuts in before I can say anything, and my mom looks at him with wide eyes.

“We’re planning your wedding, a wedding that we only have a couple months to plan. We have so much to do. We can’t stop now,” Mom sputters, and Evan shakes his head, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me even closer.

“Next week. June needs a break. She’s been running herself ragged. You guys can get back to planning after the weekend.”

Mom’s eyes move from Evan to me, and whatever she sees makes her eyes go soft. “Oh, all right, next week,” she agrees, surprising me. “But we really do need to get the details ironed out.”

“I promise we’ll sort everything out next week,” I agree, and she reaches out, touching my cheek softly.

“I just want your wedding to be perfect,” she whispers, making me feel like an ass for just wanting the whole thing over with.

“I know,” I whisper back, stepping forward and giving her a tight hug. Leaning back, she searches my face for a moment then kisses my cheek.

“I better hurry and pack up, so I can get home before your dad calls again or shows up.” She rolls her eyes, letting me go so she can drag the large suitcase she came in with back toward the table, where all the contents that were inside of it are now scattered.

“Jesus, do you really need all of this shit?” Evan asks, taking the suitcase from my mom once we have it packed and zipped. “This bag has to weigh at least thirty pounds.”

“We’re not planning a party. We’re planning a wedding, so yes, I do need all of that shit.” She glares at him, the same way she would glare at my dad when he’s annoyed her.

“Just asking.” Evan grins, and Mom’s eyes narrow on his mouth before her head swings in my direction.

“He’s just as bad as your father.” She tosses her thumb over at Evan. “Your dad complained for an hour after I made him go up into the attic to get the suitcase. He said it was crazy that I needed a suitcase to haul around wedding planning stuff.”

“It’s a little crazy.” I shrug, smiling at her, and she looks at the bag in Evan’s hand. I can tell she’s wondering if maybe, just maybe, she’s going a wee-bit overboard. “I love your crazy, Mom. So it’s okay,” I say softly after a moment.

I know she’s doing all of this because she loves me. I’m lucky to have a mom like her, a mom who would twist herself into knots to make me happy and to give me the perfect wedding. Both my parents could have decided they hated Evan without ever getting to know him after what happened between us, but they didn’t. No, they weren’t waiting with open arms to embrace him, but they did trust my judgment enough to give him a chance to prove himself.

“Love you too, honey.” She smiles then leans her head back, looking at the ceiling, when her cell phone rings in her hand. Putting it to her ear, she snaps, “I’m walking out of her house as we speak, Asher Mayson.”

Giggling, I turn my eyes to Evan, and the air in my lungs freezes when I see the tender look on his face pointed at me. If I weren’t madly in love with him already, that one look would have sealed the deal. I love you, I mouth, and his eyes soften even further.

“I don’t know how I put up with that man,” Mom grumbles, breaking into the moment between Evan and me.

“You love Dad.”

“I must,” she gripes, heading for the door.

Following her out to her SUV, Evan puts her bag into the trunk, while I give her another hug and a promise to call her. Then, I watch while Evan gives her a hug of his own and a quiet thanks, that makes her smile and pat his cheek before getting in behind the wheel, slamming the door.