How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories



Mac caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she finished getting ready for work the next morning and winced. Now she understood why most women took the time to apply makeup. Right now she could have used something to hide the lavender shadows under her eyes.


She could call Grant and tell him that she was sick. Under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be a lie . . .

“Sweetheart?” Coach’s voice floated up the stairs. “You have company.”

Mac’s stomach turned a slow cartwheel. “I’ll be right down.”

She wove her hair into a loose braid and padded downstairs. Cast a longing look at the door before she followed her dad’s cheerful baritone to the kitchen.

Hollis sat at the table, sipping hot chocolate from the lopsided cup Mac had made at summer camp when she was in fifth grade. Connor stood at her shoulder, the smile absent from his eyes.

The fact that Ethan wasn’t with them added to the weight pressing down on Mac’s chest.

“I’m going to take Snap for his morning walk.” Coach set a cup of hot chocolate on the table across from Hollis before he left the room.

Mac didn’t know whether to sit or stand. And for someone who made her living stringing words together, she had no idea what to say.

Connor’s ragged sigh broke the silence as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Hollis. “Ethan told you how we met—”

“Yes, but I wasn’t the one who leaked the story,” Mac interrupted. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“What . . . of course you wouldn’t.” Hollis looked stunned by the suggestion. “Why do you think I was so happy you were doing the interview? When you were on the high school newspaper, you had a reputation for being honest but fair”—she smiled—“even if you didn’t particularly like the person you had to interview.”

Mac managed to smile back.

“We came to ask for your help,” Connor said.

“My help?”

“I told my agent about the cancer when I signed with her, but the opportunity to audition for the movie came up a few months after I’d finished treatment.

“Maybe it was pride, but I didn’t want anyone to know about it because I was afraid it would become my identity. That’s Connor Blake. He’s the actor who had cancer. Brenda was more afraid that it might jeopardize future contracts. I could be considered a risk because I’m not technically in remission yet.”

“The media has a way of twisting things, so we want to shut the rumors down as soon as possible,” Hollis said. “And the only way to do that is to let people know the truth.”

Mac realized they were both looking at her expectantly. “You want me to write the story?”

Connor flashed a smile that Mac knew would be on the cover of every entertainment magazine in a few months. “Mackenzie Davis is the only person I would consider sitting down with for an interview.”

An exclusive.

Mac swallowed hard. “I’m honored—”

“Great.” Connor folded his hands behind his head. “Then let’s get started.”

“You want me to interview you now?” Forget the hot chocolate. Mac needed a cup of coffee.

“I’ve got other things on my mind. In two days we’ll be getting married.” Connor waggled his eyebrows at Hollis. “And leaving for our honeymoon.”

“Men.” Hollis rolled her eyes. “Where do we start, Mac?”

“We start by deciding what social media outlet you want to use.”

“You decide.” Connor shrugged. “Make it count, though. I only want to do this once.”

“And I get to see the photographs first.” Hollis lifted her chin. “Just to make sure you got my best side.”

Mac could feel the tension slipping away. “I will.”

“Speaking of best sides . . .” Hollis leaned forward. “You don’t look so good. Your eyes are all red-rimmed and puffy.”

“So are yours.”

“Betty at the Clip and Curl can work miracles.” Mischief lit Hollis’s eyes. “She’ll even do your nails.”

“I’d rather eat a minnow.”

They burst out laughing.

Connor’s gaze bounced between them. “Should I even ask?”

Hollis rested her cheek against his shoulder. “Inside joke, honey.”

“Got it.” Connor smiled at Mac. “So . . . what’s your first question?”

Mac asked the first one that popped into her head. “Does Ethan know you asked me to write the story?”

“Know?” Connor repeated. “It was his idea.”



By Saturday morning, Hollis’s wedding day, Ethan was convinced that suggesting Mac write Connor’s story was the most idiotic idea he’d ever come up with.

“The media is always looking for a story that will grab people’s attention,” Hollis had said. “They don’t necessarily care if it’s the truth.”

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