Married by June. Ellen Hartman
know him, didn’t really love him and hadn’t ever really wanted to marry him. And number two, he was pretty sure he felt the same way.
Yeah. Those were the main issues and he had only himself to blame. It was Chelsea’s idea for them to get married, and her wish, which had been expanded into a huge fundraiser for the Wish Team’s tenth anniversary, was being granted even though she’d died months ago, much sooner than they’d hoped. But it had been his own inability to resist a romantic gesture that sealed the engagement.
He could have said no, but Chelsea’s defiant belief in the power of wishing after a lifetime of disappointment had touched him. He’d seen the hope in her eyes that she could give Jorie this one thing before she died, and he’d said yes, because how could he not help her when he knew exactly what it meant to care that much about your family?
He and Jorie had only been dating for six months at the time and their relationship was still so new he hadn’t seen any downside. He didn’t stop to think about consequences, so caught up in Chelsea’s dream that he couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to. His mom had been complaining about this habit of acting from the heart ever since he’d set the class room pets loose in kindergarten. The rabbit hadn’t gotten far, but two of the gerbils and the corn snake hadn’t been seen again. He was the guy who always put his hand over his heart for the National Anthem. He’d given the toast at his brother’s wedding and two different women had propositioned him afterward and a guy from the World Wildlife Fund had asked him to write their annual donor appeal. Which he’d done. He liked pandas as much as the next guy.
Chelsea Burke had offered him the chance to be a knight in shining armor and he’d said yes. His fault.
His romantic impulsiveness had brought him and Jorie to this point, but his good sense had finally caught up. It was late. Too late in many ways, but they hadn’t passed the irrevocable point where they pledged some as yet unwritten vows to each other. He’d screwed up and he was going to hurt a lot of people, but he’d do the right thing before it really was too late.
When he proposed to Jorie, he knew deep down that they hadn’t been together long enough, didn’t know each other well enough, but he’d convinced himself it wouldn’t matter. If anything, he knew less about Jorie now. She was beautiful, at least to him. Her strawberry-blonde hair and sky-blue eyes meshed perfectly with creamy skin dusted with freckles. She was smart, perceptive and had a wry sense of humor he appreciated. She had impeccable fashion sense, although she tended toward the conservative, and he loved the body she kept concealed under her buttoned-up exterior.
Unfortunately, he’d found out most of those things during the first few months they were dating. Since then, he’d been unable to get closer to her. She was so guarded he couldn’t find a way in. He’d become convinced that what he’d initially thought of as sophistication was actually an ingrained reserve. Or else she didn’t much like him. Either way, he was out of ideas for how to turn his hopes for their relationship into reality.
He stood up and walked to the front of the church. Leaning on the railing around the votive candles, he watched the flames flicker. He put another dollar in the metal collection box and picked up a long wooden match, dipping it into the flame. He lit one last candle and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t sure who the apology was for. Chelsea, Jorie, himself? He hoped Jorie would understand.
COOPER DIDN’T KISS HER.
He had to pass her to get to his chair at Lucky’s tasting table, and he trailed one hand along the back of her seat, grazing the skin above the collar of her coffee-stained dress, but he didn’t bend to kiss her cheek.
Cooper always kissed her.
He kissed everyone—his mother, his brother, his father, his many cousins, his friends. Jorie wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’d kissed his bus driver in elementary school. A peck on the cheek in greeting from Cooper Murphy was nothing special. Not getting one was. Especially for the woman planning to marry him.
If she hadn’t been so intent on making every detail of her wedding perfect now that it was her only project, she would have worried more about the missing kiss, but she had bigger fish to fry.
Red velvet fish, if all went according to plan.
Alice poked her head around the door leading to the front of the bakery. “There’s our groom!” she called. “A few minutes late and Jorie had us convinced you weren’t coming. Give me one second.” She ducked back out of sight, the swinging door making a breeze strong enough to ruffle the edge of the cotton tablecloth.
“I didn’t say you weren’t coming,” Jorie protested. “I’m nervous, that’s all. Alice is being dramatic.”
He pulled his seat out but stayed on his feet, his hands wrapped tightly around the white wooden knobs on either side of the ladder-back chair. “Listen, Jorie, I almost didn’t come.” He hesitated and seemed to change his mind about what to say. “I can’t do this.”
What was he talking about? Alice’s cakes were amazing. He knew that because he’d eaten just as many pieces as she had in the past few months.
“I know you’re dubious about the red velvet, but I told you, ignore the name. You’re going to love it.” She picked up the pale aqua menu card and tried to hand it to him. “Aren’t these menus perfect? The blue and silver are our wedding colors, and see, our names and the wedding date are right here. Brides love these.” Alice made individual cake menus for all of the couples who came for tastings. As keep-sakes, they looked gorgeous mounted in Jorie’s wedding binders.
He took the menu but didn’t read it. “I was working on the vows all morning.”
The vows. She was almost afraid to ask what he’d written. Elise Gordon (348 guests, silver and white New Year’s wedding) had written rhyming vows which her husband rapped to her. (The rhymes had been planned; the rap was spur of the moment.) Jorie wasn’t interested in a rap, but she did wonder what Cooper would promise and what he’d ask from her in return. Her mom had never gotten any of her boyfriends to the vow stage, and it had seemed to Jorie that her mom had consistently given more than she got.
Alice backed through the door just then, a tray held in front of her. “I am so sorry, guys. The counter is crazy busy and my full-time help is home with a sick kid.” She slid the silver tray holding four small cakes onto the table. “I’d love to give you the full treatment, but I’m going to have to leave you on your own.” She pointed to the cake at the top of the tray. “This is the carrot. Start here.” She pointed at each one, moving clockwise around the grouping. “Carrot. Lemon. Red velvet. Chocolate. Small bites. Taste each one before you make up your mind. The usual drill, Jorie. Don’t let your man taste out of order—he’ll ruin the flavors.”
She beamed at them. “Of all the weddings we’re doing this year, yours is going to be the most perfect.” Her eyes sparkled under the brim of her Lucky’s ball cap. “Your mom would have loved this.”
The bell rang in the front of the bakery and Alice put two forks and a serving spatula next to the china dessert plates on the table. “Enjoy!” She rushed back through the door, leaving them alone.
The tasting room at Lucky’s was tucked behind the actual store. Alice had told her she’d picked grass-green for the walls with white accents because bright spaces made people hungry. Cooper, standing behind his chair, didn’t seem to be falling under the spell. Jorie leaned back so she could see him better. His thick brown hair, dark chocolate eyes and deep dimples were such a perfect combination, they still made her tingle, but she couldn’t read his expression. Cooper was characteristically open and uncomplicated. It was one of the reasons she’d been attracted to him. But today, he wouldn’t meet her eye. He still hadn’t sat down.
And he hadn’t kissed her.
She turned the tray a fraction so that the carrot cake was positioned at exactly twelve o’clock. She was reading too much into that missing kiss. He’d been late and he was distracted. She was upset about losing Nadine’s wedding. So what if