How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories



“And then my coordinator quit last-minute and I had to fill the role myself. Doing all this work was exhausting, especially with only four days to make it happen. If anyone deserves a vacation, it’s me.”

And this was the sort of crap April had been listening to for the last two minutes as her sister answered questions for her upcoming mention in People magazine. The article would highlight Jack’s return home before his upcoming tour began—the magazine had asked for a feature on him for months, which he had consistently turned down until now—but of course Kristin’s wedding had been part of the deal. It was a favor. A way to make peace. An olive branch extended by a guy trying to make good on a past gone wrong. Kristin had grabbed on to that branch and shredded a few leaves in the process. Her excitement was an electrical current charging through everyone in the room.

Except April. Doing all the work was exhausting?

“Um, I seem to remember you having a little help,” she said, unable to take it anymore.

In response, Kristin waved her off. “This is my sister, April. She stepped in a couple of times when I needed some extra help. But for the most part, I was on my own. And let me tell you, when that happens right before a wedding as high profile as mine, the stress level is sky high . . .”

April turned away before the desire to punch her sister took over. This wasn’t the time or place. Next week—right after Kristin returned from her honeymoon—that was the perfect time and place. April made a mental note to mark it on her calendar.

“Interview is going well, I hear.” Jack walked toward her, on a short break from singing. The band was providing background music for the moment; his time off wouldn’t last much longer. “I could hear her talking from the stage. Sounds like you should have stepped in to help more, slacker.”

The gleam in his eye kept her from scheduling a personal beat down for him too. Punching two people in one day sounded just so exhausting, anyway.

“Yeah, poor Kristin. Having to do all the work in between massages and pedicure appointments must have been a killer. I’m not sure how she managed to handle it all.”

When his face broke into a grin, she felt her irritation give way to something else. Something that was growing increasingly hard to ignore. She swallowed and gave it the old college try. Even though she knew it wouldn’t work. Because she hated college in the two years she’d attempted to go. Found it a complete waste of time.

Besides, musicians didn’t need college anyway.

“That’s Kristin, at least the one I remember. A hard-working control freak.”

“You got that last part right.” She stared at him a long moment. “You sound good up there. Yet I’m still waiting to hear ‘Open Arms.’ It’s the one I’m really looking forward to.”

“I’m sure you are. Nothing more fun than seeing a musician make a fool of himself onstage,” he said. “Although it won’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

April laughed. “I want to hear that story sometime.” She caught herself, aware the words sounded like an invitation. An offer to make herself available for a future . . . date? She swallowed, trying to measure her level of excitement. Was she excited? Would she welcome another chance to see him again after tonight?

If the way her pulse raced was any indication, she would. She definitely would.

She blinked up at Jack just as a slow grin began to tilt his mouth. “I’m still here tomorrow night if you want me to tell it to you.”

She bit her lip on a smile. “Sure. Can’t think of anything I need to do, plus I’m off work.”

He nodded. “Great. I’ll buy you some fries and we’ll hang out.”

That earned him a scowl. “Coffee, ice cream, and fries? You spend less money on dates than my fourteen-year-old boyfriend in eighth grade.”

He frowned. “You were allowed to date in eighth grade?”

“That’s not the point.”

He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll take you to Husk.” When he couldn’t quite hide a smile, she knew she’d been played. Husk was of the nicest restaurants in Nashville. At least this was what she’d heard. Not many lounge singers with an income like hers could afford to go there, especially considering she refused to borrow money from her parents.

“Much better. And bring whichever credit card has the highest limit, because I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu, plus dessert.”

Finally, Jack laughed. “I expected as much.”

April glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t look now, but Kristin is glaring at you. And motioning for me to get you back onstage.”

He sighed. “Great, just great. I’m not sure how I found myself back in the role of the wedding singer, but whatever. ‘Open Arms’ is coming right up.” He turned to walk away.

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