How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

“And I’m not?”


She smoothed the front of his shirt. “Safe is a bow tie. And suspenders.”

Will tilted his head as he considered her. “So, safe to you is an elderly banker?”

“No!” She swatted him again and laughed. “That’s what I always joke with Julie about. Bow tie and suspenders is my metaphor for some safe, predictable nerd. The opposite of a ladies’ man.” She hesitated. “Someone who won’t leave.”

“I get it. But safe can be way overrated.” He gestured around them at the bakery. “You probably see it all the time. You know when married couples cut their cake and feed each other at the reception?”

Charlotte blinked at him. “I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“Safe is feeding each other wedding cake, nice and polite and without a mess and passing napkins afterward.”

He had a point. It sounded . . . a little boring, to be honest. Picture-perfect. Not entirely real.

He grinned down at her. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone who smears icing on your face—” His finger gently trailed the length of her cheek. “And then gently kisses it off?”

She drew a ragged breath at his proximity. That actually sounded amazing. Maybe she’d had it wrong all this time. Maybe God hadn’t sent her what she wanted because it hadn’t been what she and Zoe needed at all.

“See? Safety is vastly overrated.” He grinned and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Then again, for the record, I could probably rock a bow tie if I had to.”

“But that’s the best part.” She smiled up at him, trusting fully for the first time in a long time—maybe ever. “You don’t have to.”





“That might have been the most awkward toast in the history of toasts.” Will leaned close to whisper in Charlotte’s ear.

She giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “Shh. They’ll hear you.”

They’d suffered through several wedding speeches so far at Adam and Brittany’s rehearsal dinner, each one worse than the last. And he’d kept her laughing through all of them.

“I mean, come on. Pass the butter. That toast was dry.”

Charlotte snorted, and elbowed him harder in the ribs, the sudden motion clanking her used silverware against her discarded plate. The man at the table opposite them shot an amused glance over his shoulder, and Charlotte immediately blushed.

They needed to quit acting juvenile. But Will couldn’t help it. He loved the sound of her laughter. And before their big talk last Sunday in the bakery, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to provoke it again. He wanted to hear it while he could, and never take it for granted.

The mother of the bride took the platform for her turn, and Will tried to tune her out so he wouldn’t be tempted to tease again.

He pressed a kiss against Charlotte’s hair instead, glad she had been able to accompany him tonight, and happier still that Julie was able to babysit Zoe and give her the chance to come. They really should do something special for her friend as a thank-you. She’d even helped deliver the desserts earlier, before whisking Zoe back to their apartment for a promised game of Chutes and Ladders. Maybe he’d pick up a gift card, or ask Melissa to make one of those crafty signs for her that she occasionally sold online.

Charlotte’s marshmallow caramel apple cupcakes, each perched in a slow-rotating miniature Ferris Wheel, had earned an entire table over on the side of the banquet room. She’d thrown in some of her favorite double-chip brownies for the chocolate lovers as a last-minute addition—a side effect of her good mood the last few days.

A few last-minute wedding gifts filled another table. Will shook his head. At this rate, Adam and Brittany would be set with appliances, gift cards, and kitchen towels until their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Did newly married couples really need that much stuff?

Eloping was starting to look pretty good.

He slid his arm around the back of Charlotte’s chair. Make that really good.

Brittany’s mother finished her speech, blinking back tears as she expressed her joy over the upcoming ceremony. That was sweet. Sounded like something his mom might have said at Melissa’s rehearsal—had either of them been able to make it. He sobered, hating how the past seemed to constantly rear its head during moments like this—moments he should be able to just enjoy.

He shoved away the familiar guilt and clapped along with the others as Brittany’s mom left the platform with instructions for everyone to hit the dessert table. He stood, pulling Charlotte’s chair back for her, just as his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

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