Wedding Cake Wishes. Dana Corbit
I told you…even before everything with Amy…that it wasn’t going to happen.”
“Why not?” Haley rested her crossed arms on her belly. “Dad died more than two years ago. You should—”
“Not long enough.” Trina shook her head. “It will never be long enough.”
A second uncomfortable silence settled in the sanctuary, until Logan started chuckling. Everyone turned back to see what was so funny.
“Well, well, well, Mrs. Scott,” he said finally. “It’s different when the tables are turned, isn’t it?”
Instead of answering, Trina stared at him waiting for him to explain himself.
Logan held his hands wide, as if the explanation was simple. “The matchmaker gets a dose of her own medicine, and it doesn’t taste too sweet.”
All the younger adults laughed, but Trina gave him one of those looks that used to hush her daughters in church.
“There will be no matchmaking, and that’s final.”
“Okay,” Logan said with a shrug. “But you might want to remember that Matthew said that same thing. And Haley. And Dylan. And Jenna.”
By the time that he’d made it through the list, Jenna and Haley were muffling giggles, and Logan’s brothers were looking away, trying and failing to cover their smirks.
“Logan Michael Warren,” Trina said in the same warning tone that they’d all heard Mrs. Warren use after one of Logan’s jokes.
When Logan stiffened at the sound, Caroline couldn’t help but do the same. Everything had to remind him of his mother lately.
But when Caroline turned back to her mother, Trina was smiling in a reminder that all thoughts of Mrs. Warren didn’t need to be sad ones.
“Since Amy couldn’t be here today, I knew she would want me to pick up the slack.”
Laughter filled the sanctuary again, with Lizzie laughing the loudest in that way children do when they don’t get the joke.
Just as Matthew returned to them from the receiving line in the vestibule, the overhead lights flickered off, leaving behind only the yellow cast of daylight filtering in through the stained-glass windows.
Matthew pointed to the lights. “There’s our signal to go home. Unless you all just want to stay until the evening service.”
“Back to my house, then?” Trina looked around at all their faces. “Chicken and noodles are in the Crock-Pot, and a pie is cooling on the counter. We’ll eat a nice lunch and then head over to visit Amy.”
After several affirmative murmurs, they all started up the aisle toward the exit.
Logan cleared his throat just as they stepped outside. “Ah, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”
“But—” Trina’s smile fell.
“I’ll catch up with all of you at the hospital.”
Dylan elbowed his brother and waggled an eyebrow. “Got another date?”
“Something like that,” Logan answered.
“Who with this time?”
Logan shrugged but didn’t answer.
“Guess he’s not telling.” Matthew glanced at his watch. “It’s barely past noon on a Sunday, bro. That has to be a new record for you.”
Haley stopped and faced her husband. “Jealous of all that freedom?”
“No way. Not me.” Matthew held his hands up in a defensive pose.
“Good answer,” Haley said with a grin.
Caroline told herself she wasn’t jealous, either. Not of Logan’s hopping social calendar. Certainly not of the woman who would be spending the afternoon with Logan, though she was curious about this mystery woman. Knowing Logan, she was probably beautiful. And equally empty-headed.
No, Caroline definitely wasn’t jealous. But disappointed? She shouldn’t care one way or another whether Logan spent the afternoon with her—um…their families, but she did. Her excuse that she only wanted them all to be together didn’t hold water, either.
How could she admit that she wanted to spend more time with Logan Warren? Even if she were in the market for a relationship, which she wasn’t, Logan was about the last man on earth she should choose, and yet something was drawing her to him.
Something that needed to be stopped. This was a recipe for disaster, especially with the two of them trying to work together. It didn’t matter how handsome he looked when those dimples popped or how he made her laugh with his clever repartee. She was a strong, independent woman—not some hopeless romantic. She had to admit she was attracted to Logan, but she planned to get over it right now.
Logan set his helmet on his motorcycle and threw his head back, closing his eyes and breathing in the earthy scent of southern Indiana. Though Boyton County State Park was more crowded than he preferred with holiday picnickers and the air was tinged with the scent of barbecue grills, serenity still flooded Logan’s veins.
Even the twenty-minute ride out to the park on his Harley hadn’t made him feel so at peace. He didn’t need people in this place, could be alone without feeling lonely. He was at home.
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