by Andi Burns
Ev’s parents are here, too, but the last I saw, they were sitting in a corner by themselves. I don’t sweat it. They’re probably happy not to have to socialize with ruffians like Winn and my cousins, who are currently arm wrestling at one of the tables.
I survey the dance floor and spot my handsome man dancing with my Aunt Krystal. Before I rescue him from her two left feet, I make my way over to Duncan to request a slow song.
Ed Sheeran’s voice fills the air, and I saunter over to Ev. Aunt Krystal gives me a hug and a kiss, before leaving the dance floor.
“Looks like you lost a dance partner,” I say.
“And gained a better one, no doubt. No sense of rhythm, your Aunt Krystal.”
He twirls me around, and I laugh. It’s one of the many moves we learned at our ballroom dancing class. Bets and Duncan got us into it and now we’re kind of hooked.
“So, Molly Grace Randall, is this the best day of your life, or what? Obviously, right next to the day we met.”
“Obviously. And, yes, it’s incredible.” I smile.
“Wait, do I hear a but in there? Damn it. I guess I should have listened to Nick, and we should have released lanterns. I just figured that this crowd and fire wouldn’t mix.”
I laugh. “You made the right call, Handsome. It’s just that, I don’t know. You’re doing all of this for me. You’re giving up your idea of forever, just so I can have mine. But what am I giving up?”
He holds me close and tips up my chin. “Nothing, Molls. Because it’s not about giving things up. Look what I’m getting—you. And that’s more important than any piece of paper I’ve ever signed or any piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned.”
How could I possibly love this man anymore? I don’t know, but I know I need to show him how much I adore him. I dance us a little closer to Dunc’s deejay setup, and my friend hands me the mic.
The music stops, and all eyes are on us—me and the man I love.
“Ev,” I begin. “Don’t get too excited, Handsome. I’m not about to propose or anything.” Our friends laugh and so does Ev. “I just want to say, in front of our family and friends, that I am committed to you, that I love you, and that I can’t imagine being not-married to anyone else.”
He reaches for my hand, and, what I think is a tender moment, turns out to be Ev stealing my mic.
“Molly Grace, I just want to say, in front of our family and friends, that I adore you, and I’ll never steal your purse and attempt to cross state lines.”
I laugh, knowing Trick and Duncan and Nick must have filled him in on the whole Kyle debacle.
“Everett Marc, I promise to always squeeze the toothpaste tube from the bottom,” I say, leaning in to wrap my arms around his waist.
“Molls, I swear I’ll always leave the toilet seat up, but only because I’ll forget.”
“Ev, I promise to help you find things, especially when you’re standing right in front of them.”
Ev leans into the mic, but Nic swipes it from his hand. Oh, Lord. All hell’s about to break loose. “I just want to take a moment to say that I am ordained by the church of the Internet, so…”
And, of course, Dunc pipes in. “Jesus, Nicky. Have some goddamn respect for their boundaries.”
Simon shakes his head and takes the mic from Dunc’s hand, and I lean back into Ev’s embrace, just content to enjoy the show.
“All kidding aside, I hope you two are every bit as happy as Elaine and I—”
Before he can finish that sentence, Gav comes from out of nowhere (or, more likely, the bar), takes the mic and says, “Molly, Ev, I hope your non-marriage turns out a hell of a lot better than my real marriage.”
Yea. So, that effectively ends the toasting portion of our non-wedding. And I, for one, can’t wait to hear that story.
Curious about Gavin’s admission? Read on to find out how it all started! Gavin’s story begins in the middle of Simon and Elaine’s story, The IT Guy. The following is an excerpt from Gavin’s story, The Ideal Groom, coming fall 2020.
THE IDEAL GROOM
Sneak Peek
CHAPTER 1
November
GAVIN
Airports are lousy places, all crowded and congested. They’re noisy as hell, too. And the food sucks. How can you screw up an Egg McMuffin? I don’t know, but the airport manages to every single time.
Airplanes, of course, are just as bad. There’s no damn room, even if you’re lucky enough to get an aisle seat. And I swear to God, they just hand cranky babies to people, as they board the aircraft.
Or, possibly, I’m just in a shit-tastic mood. Yea, that’s probably it. My friends keep giving me hell for whining about having to go on a ten-day cruise, and rightfully so, I guess. I’m sure that for, most people, the trip I’m about to embark on is the trip of a lifetime.
For me, it’s work.
But it’s not my kind of work. If given the choice, I’d rather be 13,000 feet in the air and hanging off the side of a mountain.
I wasn’t given the choice, at least, not this time. Typically, I spend half my year in Colorado, working for my buddy Dax’s mountaineering company. I spend the other half of the year in Maryland, helping out with my parents’ travel agency. But, because it’s almost Thanksgiving, my parents are up in Michigan at my grandma’s house, and my brother is busy with god only knows what. They were all too busy to take this cruise. So, here I am, sitting at the airport in Baltimore, waiting to board my flight to Miami.
I’m debating whether or not I have time to grab a cup of coffee, but before I can decide, a woman lands in my lap.
Instinct kicks in, and I catch her, before she falls to the ground.
What the hell is happening right now? One minute I’m bitching about my vacation, and the next, I’m holding a random stranger.
“Woah, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” I say, as I steady her, trying not to think about how good she smells or how soft her skin is. Christ, now I’m a creeper.
Once she regains her balance, she sits up in my lap and flips the curtain of brown curls from her face. Standing, she apologizes profusely. “Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry. Oh, my word... I’m, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, no big deal.” I smile. “But now I’m really glad I didn’t get that cup of coffee I was considering.”
“Oh, dear. That would have been so much worse! But, are you thirsty? I can grab you a cup of coffee. It’s the least I can—”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, reaching out to steady her hand, ”I’m Gavin, by the way.”
“Oh, I’m Miranda.” she says, righting the long skirt of her dress. And that’s when I see the issue. “Wait, hold on to me, you’re all tangled up.” She’s got this black cord looped around one ankle. “Here, step out of it. That’s it. What is this thing?”
She drops to the ground on all fours in front of me and the thoughts I’m having are not safe for work. Or the airport. I scooch to the edge of my seat. “What are you doing down there?”
“Looking for my, oh! There it is!” She emerges from under the row of seats, victoriously, with a shoe in her hand.
Taking the seat next to me, she slips the ballerina-looking shoe onto her foot, and good Lord in Heaven, I now understand foot fetishes. Holy hell.
“Thank you again. I am so sorry. My foot must have gotten tangled up in this cord. I don’t think I put it on right?” she questions, rubbing hand sanitizer between her palms.
I take a look and see that there’s a long cable that’s apparently supposed to connect her carry-on and another tiny bag that matches it. But the cord’s a good 6 feet long, and her suitcases are pretty small, in comparison.
“Want me to have a look?” I ask, even though, between my bad mood and the dirty thoughts I’m having, I should probably just keep to myself.
“Oh, no. I’m fine. I won’t be a bother anymore.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she’s no bother at all, but I keep my mouth shut. I realize, as I watch her wrangle the
ridiculous cord, that she reminds me of someone. A celebrity. It’s that girl from that movie. Damn it...Dunc and Nick used to watch it in college because they’re fucking weirdos.
What is that movie? I pull my phone out because it’s driving me crazy.
Gavin: What’s that movie you guys used to watch in college?
Nick: Gonna need you to be a little more specific.
Gavin: That old lady from musicals was in it. And she had a granddaughter who was a princess, but she didn’t know it.
Nick: The Princess Diaries! Shit. We loved that one like a couple of tweenage girls.
That’s it! The woman next to me looks like Mia Thermopolis, princess of wherever, and I’m totally here for it.
Gavin: That’s the one. Thanks.
Nick: You looking for movies to watch on the plane?
Gavin: Something like that.
I look up from my phone to see her rustling through her gigantic handbag. She’s got it perched on the empty seat next to her, and its contents laid out in her lap.There are three kinds of chapstick, some granola bars, hand sanitizer, baby wipes, and a shit-ton of hair ties. But none of those things is what she’s looking for, because she keeps digging.
“Hey Miranda,” I say, liking the way her name feels on my tongue. “This your first time flying?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” I smile to soften the blow. Just then, I hear the announcement that we’re boarding.
“Uh, I think that’s your boarding pass,” I say, pointing to the skinny envelope poking out of her carry-on.”
She shakes her head and laughs. “I’m a wreck.”
“Nah, flying is nerve-wracking,” I tell her, as she returns all her stuff to her purse.
“Follow me. We got this,” I say, as I lead her into the line. We get our passes scanned and head into the tunnel. I figure we’ll sit together, and I could certainly do worse for a seatmate, but just as I find two empty seats, she breezes right past me and heads for a crowded row. She squeezes herself in next to a toddler in meltdown mode and a mom holding a screaming infant.
Wow. This really is her first flight.
“Miranda,” I call, and she looks up at me across the rows of chairs and people. “Honey, I’ve got two seats right here. You want the window or the aisle?”
The look on her face tells me she’s not sure what to make of my question, or the fact that I called her honey, but it’s obvious that she hates the attention and probably feels like everyone’s staring at us. They’re not, but I’m not a fan of crowds, and I know how she feels. She acquiesces and squeezes back out of the row.
“The window’s great, thank you.” I lift her suitcase and stick it in the overhead compartment, right next to mine.
“Sure you don’t want the aisle? My brother and I used to come to blows over who’d get this coveted spot.”
“No, I’m fine here. And your legs are much longer than mine.” She’s right. I’ve got almost a foot on her. I guess I’d peg her to be 5’ 3” or 5’ 4”, if I had to guess.
I settle into my seat and turn to her. “First rule of flying: avoid crying babies.”
“Oh, that doesn’t bother me, I’m a cuddler.”
“You’re a what now?” I’m intrigued.
“A cuddler.” She smiles. “I volunteer at the hospital in the Newborn Intensive Care unit. Often, the moms are in other parts of the hospital, or maybe at home, taking care of older children, so they need people to come in and hold and rock the babies. That’s what I do.”
I didn’t even know that was a thing. The captain makes a few announcements, and the flight attendants go through their spiel. Miranda hangs on every word. As we roll down the runway, she digs through that giant purse again, this time producing lollipops and two kinds of gum. I take the mint gum, thanking her. And she pops a lollipop in her mouth. Sweet hell.
We ascend into the air, and it’s weird, but this is always my favorite part. It’s clearly not hers, if her bouncing leg is any indication.
Silently, I reach for her hand. She grabs onto mine tightly, and I try not to notice the way her fair skin looks next to my tatted arm.
If I’m not careful, I could get used to this.
Look for Gavin and Miranda’s story, The Ideal Groom, in the fall of 2020!
About the Author
Andi Burns writes contemporary romance infused with humor, sass, and steam. She loves a happily-ever-after as much as her characters do, and she always reads the last page of a book first, just to make sure it all turns out okay.
Andi lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, folding laundry, or daydreaming about her next hero and heroine.
Connect with Andi at
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Acknowledgements
Book 2! How is this possible? When I started writing Simon and Elaine’s story so long ago, I never thought I’d get here. But thanks to the encouragement of family, friends, readers, and bloggers, I’m working on book 3. I am so very lucky and grateful.
A thousand thanks to…
My daughters and my husband are endlessly patient when I need to write for what seems like days on end. Without their love and support, I couldn’t pursue this dream. My husband is my own personal hero and my girls are my reason for getting up every day and doing my best.
M.E. Kusel of Steamy Designs, thank you for this gorgeous cover! I can’t thank you enough for sharing your time and talent with me.
Alyssa Garcia of Uplifting Author Services, thank you for formatting this book! Your work is incredible and I’m honored to have you in my corner. And thank you for answering all of my ridiculous questions.
Candi Kane PR, thank you for taking me on and helping me learn the ropes. Your support and promotion mean so much.
Becky Barney of Rebecca Fairest Reviews, thank you! It was an honor to have you beta read and edit this book. Thank you for taking these characters and these words and helping me mold and shape them. You always know just what I’m trying to say and you take endless time to help me say it. You are always there when I need advice or a smile. And thank you for deleting all of my extra spaces ;)
Tricia, I can’t thank you enough for your thoughts and your words of encouragement!
Inkers, thank you for all of your assistance! It’s amazing to have a safe place to go with all of my questions and queries. The support in this group is tremendous.
Readers and Bloggers, thank you so much for sharing the love for these characters. I couldn’t do this without you!
Everyone who fell in love with Simon and Elaine. Aundi, Elizabeth, Khrista, and so many others—the fact that you loved my nerdy guy and quirky gal as much as I did absolutely floored me! Your encouragement means so much.
Ang, you answer my texts, you look up random statistics, and you love me just the way I am.
Emily, thank you for helping me with questions about beer, haha! Your support and friendship mean so much.
Jen and Kim and all of my co-workers who bought the book and raved about it. I’m a little mortified, but so grateful.
Aileen, thank you for making me feel like a writer.
Beth Ann, thanks for the long talks and the encouragement. And the flowers!
Mom, you have always encouraged me, no matter what and I appreciate that more than I can say. I’m not sure you had to buy a copy of The IT Guy for every lady in your bridge club, but that’s definitely love!
Sarah of Musings of the Modern Belle, if I were to thank you for every favor, every text, every vent session, every word of encouragement...well, let’s just say it would take me longer to write that list than it took to write the first book. And since you were texting with me on that day four freaking years ago when I had this idea for a story about a tech guy, you must know just how very much I appreciate you. You are not only a phenomenal writer, blogger, promoter, and graphic artist, but you are an incredible friend. I’ll never be able to suffi
ciently explain what your support and feedback mean. And did you catch Jacob and Sophie? They’re in here. :)
