How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

But just in case he’d grown dense all of a sudden, she’d remind him. And she wouldn’t be nice or vague about it, either. She went ahead and let the fire she felt inside flash out of her eyes. “You said very plainly you aren’t dating because you hadn’t convinced the right one.”


Peanut brittle! Blazing hot moisture sprang to her eyes. It gave Meadow her first full indication that somewhere along the line, despite having meticulously watched over all her walls, she’d betrayed herself and begun to harbor hope for Colin’s affections.

Upon seeing her tears, Colin’s face softened. His arm curled quickly, spinning her body so her cheek rested snug against his shoulder.

Holding her securely, mouth moist and hot against her ear in a heady almost-kiss, he whispered equal parts gruff and grace, “Meadow, the woman I was talking about . . . is you.”





Doubt hammered holes through Colin’s head.

It had been six tense hours this morning of working together on her roof, then prepping for this evening’s wedding reception, and she still hadn’t referenced his comment from last night.

Obviously his confession bewildered her. He’d wanted to curb what he’d perceived as insecurity on her part. Maybe he’d misread her developing feelings or misappropriated timing for the reveal of his. Only God knew. So that’s who Colin would consult.

After Colin helped Meadow carry fancy cutlery to her catering SUV, she left to run a load to the venue and he went back to work on her kitchen. Her new cabinets got delivered, and he was excited to incorporate all the special touches she’d dreamed of. That he’d made her happiness his life’s mission launched a big clue to Colin about the depth of his feelings. Ones that weren’t wavering, only growing stronger.

He was falling faster than a hammer from a ladder in love with Meadow Larson.

Her earlier silence bothered him the entire time she was gone, but when he saw how stressed she looked upon returning from the venue, he decided to wait to bring up a conversation that may add to her stress. Meadow pressed her temples, so he scrambled to think of small talk since it seemed to calm her.

“How did you segue from interior design to catering?”

She pulled a stack of server ware from one of the gazillion boxes he’d carried over from her shed. “In my catering, I do both. That’s why it’s called Havenbrook Creative Catering. I match the tables and serving décor with the bride’s theme. It saves couples from having to hire a decorator. They get two contractors for a package-deal price, and I get more business.”

She’d said Del’s encouragement had given her courage to try. For that he was glad. “What originally interested you in catering?”

She stiffened, and he felt walls go up. “Our parents never did birthdays, and our grandparents had enough expenses. So I got a job to be able to afford to make holidays and birthdays matter for my siblings. I learned to cook, bake, decorate, and sew fancy things. The idea for a catering business launched from there.” She paused. “I always loved to entertain because I enjoy serving people and bringing them together. But no one at school knew because no one ever showed up at my gatherings.”

He recalled now how he and his friends had ignored invitation after invitation. Then once Blythe fake RSVP’d on behalf of everyone, and Meadow and her grandma had prepared all that food and decorated for around fifty people—and he’d heard not a single person showed up.

It had to have been a huge financial hit for Meadow and her grandparents, who he imagined were on a very limited budget with raising the Larson grandchildren, even if Meadow did contribute income.

Colin should’ve been there for Meadow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that vicious prank Blythe pulled. I know I behaved badly toward you, but if I’d known about your party, one I would have recognized as that special, I’d have been there.”

“Even if that were true, you’d have been the only one.”

“Maybe not. Blythe intercepted many invitations, including mine. I didn’t even find out about it until the next day.”

“Yeah, my big walk of shame down the high school hall as Blythe and her group of friends clapped and made sarcastic birthday girl comments.” Hurt sheared across her eyes.

His heart went out to her so powerfully, he had to force himself not to reach for her. He’d confused her by his declaration yesterday. Too much too soon. He needed to tread lighter for both their sakes. Besides, he was still only marginally convinced his growing feelings for her were unrelated to guilt.

“I thought if things were decorated pretty enough, if the food tasted good enough, people would want to come. Would want to know me, maybe like me and be my friend.”

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