How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

He carted Meadow’s countertop convection oven while she hefted her portable microwave. Midway, she yelled, “Race ya!” then sped ahead. He met her mirthful challenge. Somehow she had rallied from her earlier fatigue.

By the time they reached her SUV, they were laughing hysterically and about to drop the heavy items. Just being in her presence was fun, laughing alongside her a joy. He never realized she was so funny. He severely regretted not taking time to get to know her in high school. His loss. He’d caved to selfishness and peer pressure—big-time regrets.

Peace settled between them while they loaded pan carriers, chafers, trays, condiment holders, table numbers, signs, and nonperishable food.

She playfully pinched tongs at him and said, “En garde!”

Colin armed himself with his own set and countered, “Prêt!” He grinned at her obvious delight that he knew the French word for ready. He was trying to remember the word for go when a spark lit her eyes.

“Allez!” she commanded, then lunged, making playful contact with his sleeve.

He tamped his foot several paces forward, forcing her to scramble back. Then she blocked, advanced, and—most surprising of all—giggled like a carefree little girl.

After fencing themselves into fits of laughter, they continued gathering a plethora of other catering stuff and serving ware. It was well after 1:00 a.m. when they wrapped up. Rather than feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated.

“Thanks, Colin. You made a stressful prep a delight rather than a duty.”

“My pleasure.” He fought OCD-fueled urges to sweep unruly bangs from her eyes.

She pressed fingers to her temples, something he’d come to realize she did when majorly stressed—and just when he thought she’d relaxed. She let him walk her to the pole barn and up its porch steps. “Thanks, Colin, for letting me stay here. It’s cozy.”

“My pleasure. I like having you close.”

Her eyes softened at that. He wanted to stay and chat with her, but it was cold and late; the next day would be filled with catering challenges, and he didn’t want to push down too many walls at once.

Soothing forest scents, stars, and night sounds greeted them, which added an ambience of romance to the air. He tried to ignore it, but his will vaporized the instant she tilted her face up and peered shyly through her lashes. He’d already turned off the outdoor lights except for one, one that allowed him to see every facet of her lovely face.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Are you sure after lunch is soon enough for me to get there?” He drank her in as she nodded. Wanted desperately to fix the haunted look that never really ever left her eyes. How much of it had been etched there by him? Swallowing hard, he did the exact opposite thing he wanted: said good night and stepped off the porch to head to his house.

“Colin?”

Thinking she’d forgotten something, he turned his head. Conflicting emotions swirled in her face. He swiveled fully, showing her he’d listen if she was ready. She scanned his eyes before brushing the ground with hers. “Thanks. I don’t know what else to say.”

“No need to.”

She nodded and recaptured his gaze. He loved staring into her eyes so much; he walked backward all the way to his door since he’d memorized the path. Grateful the barn was right next to his house and that his house porch light was still on so she could see him, he waved playfully once there and, okay yeah, in a flirty way.

Surprisingly, she didn’t recoil, scorn, or scoff. Rather, he saw a tremendous smile on her face that surely eased tension from her eyes and lifted her shoulders from the burdening weight of Del’s emergency surgery.

“Tomorrow,” he called softly as a promise. Not even sure yet for what.

“Tomorrow.” She met his pledge with a grin he could swear was part miracle, part maniacal. Probably thinking humorously of him and the bumbling mess he’d be in his fledgling attempt as her assistant cooking host in an actual high-risk catering event.

Peeling apples was one thing. Pulling off chef-level meals and service entirely another. It hit Colin full force what he’d actually agreed to do for her.

Lord, help me not drop an entrée pan or something equally disastrous. He really was a complete spaz in the kitchen. Of course, Meadow already knew that and had let him help her today anyway. Did that mean it was possible to earn her trust after all?

Lord, order our day. Don’t let me ruin Meadow’s catering reputation.

He thought about his inability to stop thinking about her or curb enjoyment of her presence. He was making strides earning her forgiveness, but after seeing her strength today and interacting with her tonight, Colin was tempted to want more.

Much more.

It was either the stupidest or the bravest struggle he’d ever owned.

He courageously added to his mental Meadow Agenda: Earn her admiration and build a friendship forged in forgiveness.

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