How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

Standing in my store, looking even handsomer in person with his hair a bit wind-tossed and his eyes a richer shade of brown than I remembered, was none other than Nate Gallagher. He wore a navy-blue merino sweater with sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and a broken-in pair of toasted-brown chinos with a braided leather belt and the kind of smile that could make a girl light-headed. He looked like a walking J.Crew advertisement.

I fumbled with the pencil, and in my attempt to catch it, knocked the notebook to the floor. I ducked behind the counter to pick both up with all of Africa’s heat gathering inside the confines of my cheeks. Nate Gallagher was in my shop! And I found myself fighting the very same urge I fought when we first encountered one another, only instead of hiding beneath my steering wheel, I wanted to army-crawl into the back room and never come out again. I forced myself to stand and set the notebook on the counter between us. “Sorry about that. Wow, Nate. What are you doing here?”

“It’s my sister’s birthday. I took her out to dinner last night. I swear I wasn’t going to stop by unexpectedly like this, but then I got your e-mail this morning, and well . . .” He stuck his hands inside his pockets and shrugged with the most adorable, self-deprecating expression ever to grace a man’s face. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh yeah?” I set the pencil next to the notebook. It almost rolled off the counter again. I made a spastic grab for it, then tucked a strand of auburn hair behind my ear.

Settle down, Amelia.

“Anyway, I was wondering . . .” He looked at William and Bridget—who were both gawking, gave them an apologetic wave, then leaned a little over the counter. “Well, maybe we could grab a coffee or something.”

“Oh, a coffee?” Why was my voice coming out so high? Seriously, what was that? I cleared my throat and tucked another strand of hair behind my ear. Glanced nervously at my brother, then back at the man who was making my underarms sweaty. “Well, I’m working. The shop doesn’t close until one.”

He checked his watch. “That’s only a half hour away. I don’t mind waiting.”

I bit my lip, searching for an excuse. Begging the heat in my cheeks to go away already.

“Bridget and I can close down for you,” William blurted.

“What?” I let out a nervous laugh. “But you don’t know how to close.”

My brother made wide eyes at me that thankfully, Nate didn’t see. Apparently William wanted me to go on a real-life date as badly as Rachel. “I’ve watched you do it enough. And Bridget used to work at a flower shop in high school, so if there’s a last-minute customer, she can make the bouquet. Right, Bridge?”

Her eyes glittered with curiosity as she looked from Nate to me. “Right. We’ve got this, Amelia. You should go have coffee with . . .?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I let out another nervous laugh. “This is my, uh, friend, Nate Gallagher. Nate, this is my brother, William, and his fiancée, Bridget.”

“Ah, William. It’s nice to meet you.” Nate shook both of their hands with a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. He knew more about them than either had any idea.

“You too,” William said, darting a glance my way. “Hey, if you’re staying the night, you should come to the corn maze with us tonight. It’s this yearly tradition. Lots of fun.”

This time I made big eyes at William. What did he think he was doing?

“A corn maze, huh?” I didn’t miss the twinkle in Nate’s eyes. “That sounds like fun.”

We all stood there for an awkward moment.

Then Nate slid his hands back inside his pockets and pivoted one shoulder toward the door. “Shall we?”





The air was crisp and clean as I stepped outside beside Nate.

“Eloise’s Bakery?” he said.

“It’s great, but Eloise doesn’t serve coffee. Patty serves coffee.”

We walked side-by-side down the wide sidewalk, the smell of fallen leaves and Eloise’s pumpkin muffins swirling together in the chilly breeze. I searched for something to say, but my tongue was officially tied. Nate, however, strolled beside me, looking perfectly at ease while taking in our surroundings. He caught me staring and smiled. It was a grin that etched crinkles into the corners of his eyes. “You’re right. This place is gorgeous in October.”

“Yeah, it is.” I scrambled for something—anything—to add, but I was still trying to catch up with the moment. I was actually walking down Main Street with Nate Gallagher by my side.

He motioned toward the sign above Patty’s House of Pancakes. “Is this the place?”

I nodded.

He stopped in front of the diner’s large picture window and pivoted on his heels to face me. “Amelia, if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have bombarded you like this. I don’t want to force you to keep me company.”

Rachel Hauck & Robin Lee Hatcher & Katie Ganshert & Becky Wade & Betsy St. Amant & Cindy Kirk & Cheryl Wyatt & Ruth Logan Herne & Amy Matayo & Janice Thompson & Melissa McClone & Kathryn Springer's books