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In the car, Tim suddenly let go of my hand and crossed his arms, staring out the window, a sulky little huff escaping him.

I nearly laughed. He was jealous.

Dante had never once been jealous. Even when I'd gone out of my way to be seen with other men, he'd only said, "Don't care."

Now, one glimpse of him, and Tim was green around the edges.

That, right there, was the whole difference between loving and not loving.

I leaned into Tim, voice soft. "Don't pout. You're about to be a groom. Pouting's going to make you ugly."

He pretended offense. "Are you calling me ugly?"

My hands shot up. "Wouldn't dare. You're the prettiest man on earth."

From the front seat, Linda snorted. Said she should've filmed it. Said it could've gone viral.