Say I Do

by Rachel Hauck

  He wore a shirt and tie beneath a sweater vest. With his tall frame and lean physique, he could pass for an Armani model. A sheepishly smiling one. One that moonlighted as a professor of Unfathomable Math.

  “Hi,” he said.

  He’d either become more gorgeous since she’d seen him last or she’d forgotten how gorgeous he’d been to begin with. Her heart, her poor heart, was melting at the sight of him. “Hi.”

  He lifted a hand and flipped an envelope face up as he extended it to her. “I brought you this.” He’d written her name on it in handwriting that hadn’t changed much since high school.

  “Thank you.” She took it from him.

  “Here.” He lifted the coffee carrier with her lone drink from her hand. She’d forgotten she’d been holding it.

  She began to pull open the flap on the heavy stationery. “Is this when you inform me that you’ve secretly been buying up all the real estate in Martinsburg?” A smile played across her lips. She’d thought to herself once that he’d have no way of knowing where she lived. She’d been wrong. “Are these my eviction papers?”

  “I typically save my evil real estate plotting for towns large enough to merit a Walmart.”

  “Ah.” She uncovered an engraved invitation to the rehearsal dinner.

  “It didn’t occur to me until last night that I hadn’t made sure that you were invited,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She moved her attention from the lovely invitation to him. “There’s no reason to be sorry. I’m just Trinity’s wedding coordinator. I’m not actually in Ben and Amanda’s wedding.”

  “I’d like for you to come.”

  “I—”

  “I’m the one paying for the rehearsal dinner and you’re the one who helped me with the planning. You’re coming. All right?”

  She bit the side of her lip. “If you like.”

  “I would.”

  “Then I’ll be there.” She examined the collection of things sitting in front of her door. “What’s all this?” A huge vase of flowers. Three flavors of ground coffee. A sheet cake from the caterer. (It had been her favorite, despite that apple pie had been a better fit for the rehearsal dinner.) Five packages of denture cleaner for Mrs. Chapel. And a twenty-four-pound bag of Meow Mix.

  “A few thank-you gifts. And a few gifts to apologize for the fact that your invitation was delivered so late.”

  Delighted laughter broke from her lips. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Do you like any of it?”

  “I like all of it.” She was so touched and surprised by his thoughtfulness that she almost wanted to cry over it. “Thank you.” Her voice emerged wobbly with emotion. “How did you know that Shadow eats Meow Mix?”

  He lifted one masculine shoulder. “I remembered from eight years ago. I’ll help you carry it in, then I’ll get out of your way. I know your family’s in town.” He must have heard, of course, every syllable of her exchange with Mrs. Chapel.

  She opened her door and dazedly tried to lend a hand, while he, in actuality, did all the work.

  She stood in her small kitchen, the counters covered with his gifts, the invitation in her hand, quiet resting over them as they smiled at each other. Thank God she hadn’t left wadded up panties or something on her floor.

  “I’ll see you tonight at the rehearsal,” he said.

  “See you then.”

  He held eye contact with her for a drawn-out second, then let himself out.

  Holly blinked at the items. Did Josh like her? Hope, worry, and confusion battled for control of her mind. Hope, because she dearly wanted him to like her. Worry, because giving him power to hurt her terrified her. Confusion, because she didn’t know which was stronger.

  The hope. Or the worry.

  Where was Holly?

  Ben and Amanda’s family and friends had arrived at the Texas Olive Oil Company and gathered on the patio for drinks and appetizers thirty minutes ago. Josh hadn’t joined them. He stood alone inside the barn, wearing a suit and watching the side door that had been left open for arriving guests.

  He glanced at his watch, frowning. Concern tightened around his chest and lungs.

  Earlier, at the rehearsal at the church, Holly had welcomed everyone to Trinity and offered a prayer. The minute she’d finished praying, Mitzi had taken over. Mitzi had made them run through the routine they’d follow during the ceremony three times.

  Holly had stood off to the side the whole time, close enough that Mitzi or Amanda or Amanda’s mom could ask her questions. She’d been wearing business clothing instead of party clothing and holding a pen and the notebook she’d brought with her when they’d looked at venues together. Each time Josh had glanced at her during the rehearsal, she’d either been looking carefully elsewhere or down at her notebook.

  Josh turned, taking in the view beyond the open sliding doors of the guests and the scenery. The stormy skies had disappeared around noon. They’d left behind clear, still weather ideal for everything Holly had imagined this night could be. He couldn’t accept that she wasn’t here to see it.

  “Josh,” one of the bridesmaids called to him. “Come on out. I have some people to introduce you to.”

  “Be there in a minute.”

  He returned his gaze to the side door. Holly had told him she’d come tonight. But maybe she’d chosen to skip it at the last minute. She might be tired. Or maybe she’d made plans with Rob.

  Should he call her to make sure she was coming?

  He was an idiot. A ridiculous—

  Holly appeared in the doorway.

  He froze at the sight of her. She wore a dress of burgundy lace on a flesh-colored background fabric. She’d pulled her hair into some kind of loose bun at the back of her neck. High heels.

  She looked like a princess.

  Need, sharp and painful, broke open inside him. At eighteen, he’d been fatherless, poor, without influence, and sure of just one thing. His love for Holly. Years had passed, but that truth had not changed. The man who didn’t do anything halfway still loved her.

  He made his way toward her. She approached him with a smile.

  “I was worried you weren’t going to come,” he said.

  “I took time to change and redo my hair after the rehearsal.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Is everything going well so far?”

  “Yes.” He offered the crook of his elbow and she set her hand in it. He guided her through the barn.

  “It’s like magic,” she said. “I can’t believe the transformation.”

  The equipment had been moved out and round tables brought in. Linens, votive candles, and large flower arrangements decorated each table. The caterer had suggested they hang lanterns staggered at different heights from the overhead beams, and he’d agreed. “Do you like how it turned out?” It mattered to him that she did.

  “I absolutely love how it turned out. Everything’s even better than I expected.”

  If only she’d let him, he’d throw her parties like this, or buy her jewelry, or take her on trips, or hire someone to socialize Shadow, or whatever else made her happy. “Anything you’d change?” he asked. “If so, I might still be able to make it happen.”

  “I wouldn’t change anything about this rehearsal dinner. Nothing at all.”

  I wouldn’t change you, he thought.

  They made their way through the guests to the far edge of the flagstones. When they came to a stop, she stepped gently away from him. Conversations and laughter surrounded them with a friendly hum. Rows of string lights extended from the roof of the barn over the patio, like a canopy.

  “Can I get you something to drink or eat?” he asked.

  “Maybe in a minute. Wow, look at the view.”

  In the distance, the lake reflected the glow of sunset like a bronze coin. The fading light made her earrings sparkle and her skin glow.

  “I thought the rehearsal went well at the church,” he said, making an effort to
steer his thoughts toward safer ground.

  “Yeah. I thought so too.” She glanced up at him out of the corners of her eyes. As usual, the gray-blue depths shone with wry humor. “You did a good job charming the flower girls.”

  “I try.”

  “You kept them calm when they started to get rambunctious.”

  “It was the least I could do.”

  “Heroic. What’re you going to do next?” She angled her chin toward the edge of the patio. “Take a running leap off this thing so we can all watch your cape unfurl as you soar off to charm more five-year-olds?”

  “No.” One side of his lips rounded upward. “I don’t like capes.”

  She chuckled, then took a moment to let her attention sweep slowly over the guests. “How does this party compare to the ones you attend in Paris?”

  “Favorably.”

  “Really? But there aren’t any French women here.”

  “No.”

  “French women are famously chic and beautiful.”

  “Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “You mean to tell me you don’t have a French girlfriend?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Does the name Genevieve ring a bell?”

  “No.”

  “Margaux?”

  He shook his head. “Would you be happier if there were French men here?”

  “I prefer Texan men.”

  “Texan men who can cook?” The question showed too much of his hand. He sounded like a jealous boyfriend, except that he was only one of those things. Just the jealous part.

  She sized him up, looking highly entertained. “Cooking skills are optional.”

  Two of Ben’s groomsmen joined them. The guys clapped him on the back and introduced themselves to Holly. He watched her shake hands with them, then nod and listen to the story one of them was telling about how badly Josh had played on their golf trip.

  Josh had almost made it through his time in Texas. He was leaving day after tomorrow. One more day. He only needed to survive one more day without doing or saying something stupid to Holly and making a royal fool of himself.

  She’d been kind to him, but there was a big jump between feeling kindly toward someone and loving them.

  One more day. Could he manage to hold back the words inside of him for one more day?

  The first rule of mingling on a flagstone patio: avoid accidentally wedging a high heel into a crack between stones. Holly focused on exactly that while chatting with Ben and Amanda’s guests. She knew many of them because such a large number lived in Martinsburg.

  Even Mitzi had come, something of a surprise. Holly would have expected Mitzi to spend the evening before Amanda’s wedding running twenty miles, drinking organic green tea, and working feverishly on her iPad.

  The sun vanished below the horizon line, putting on a great show of artistry and color before the light ebbed away and the temperature dropped.

  When they moved inside, Josh showed her to a table at the front. The name cards revealed that he’d assigned her the seat beside his.

  “I don’t have to sit right here next to all the action,” she murmured. “Really. You could have put me at a table in the back corner. I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “I’d have minded. I like talking to you more than I like talking to anyone else here. Sit and let’s eat some buttermilk fried chicken.”

  She gave him a bemused look.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been waiting all my life for a good-looking man to order me to eat fried chicken. I guess I can cross that off my wish list.”

  The dinner commenced in a blur of happiness, delicious southern food, and rustic Texas charm. It had been ages since Holly had had a reason to don her Spanx or shoes more formal than TOMS wedges. She’d been browsing through a boutique months ago when she’d found the burgundy lace sheath she had on. At the time, she’d had nowhere to wear it. She’d bought it anyway, because her intense dress-crush had outweighed practicality. She was very, very glad she had.

  During the meal, Josh frequently left Holly’s side to attend to his duties as host. Whenever they were apart, she could sense his whereabouts. She’d spot him across the room only to have him look over as if her gaze had called his attention to her. Each time that happened, she returned to the table’s conversation with a warm glow spreading through her.

  When the last bite of apple pie had been eaten and the final toast given, everyone rose to exchange subdued chitchat and good-byes. The euphoria that had hovered over Holly all evening began to dissipate. She didn’t want the night to end. But it was ending, with or without her go-ahead.

  When just ten or so guests remained, Holly found herself alone with Josh. She picked up her purse. “I’d best be going.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  They headed toward the patio. “I had a wonderful time,” Holly said.

  “I’m glad. Thank you for all that you did to help me plan the dinner.”

  “You’re welcome.” Such dismaying formality! Next, she’d be curtsying and he’d be bowing crisply like a soldier.

  The outdoors greeted them with a very faint fog of rain. Holly glanced upward toward the moon, glowing dimly through clouds.

  “Let me see if I can find an umbrella for you,” Josh said.

  “No, that’s all right.” The water hadn’t formed into droplets. Instead it seemed to hover in the air, misty and magical. “I like it.” She smiled up at him.

  Laugh lines fanned out from his eyes as he returned her smile.

  Thunk. One of her high heels wedged between two flagstones. She swayed a little and Josh immediately caught her forearm and helped right her balance. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, got both shoes on a level stone, and laughed. He still held her arm protectively. “I was just thinking earlier that I needed to avoid doing that very thing.” But then you smiled at me, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you, and so I lost my concentration. “I was kind of hoping to make it through the entire night without falling on my face.”

  “You did.”

  He was standing so close that she could feel his body heat. “D–did what?”

  “Make it through the night without falling.”

  Literally, perhaps. But not figuratively. She’d fallen, all right.

  His expression turned utterly serious and for the first time since Josh had returned to Martinsburg, Holly could see past his defenses. She saw tenderness in his eyes. Tenderness for her.

  Warm goose bumps spread over her body. He did still like her. More, he was going to kiss her. He stepped closer.

  He was going to kiss her! She wanted him, physically and in every other way. He was her Josh. The one she’d never gotten over. Anticipation coursed through her. Her breath went shallow with desire—

  Wait.

  What was she doing? Instinctive worry clashed with confusion. And, abruptly, she stepped away.

  His hand dropped from her arm. He looked down and to the side. As if irritated with himself, he gave a slight shake of his head before returning his attention to her. Awkward silence solidified between them. “Holly. I was—”

  “Excuse me,” the caterer said as she approached, wearing her floral apron. “Sorry to interrupt. I have a quick question for you, Josh.”

  He inclined his head to listen to the caterer, keeping his vision on Holly.

  She could practically feel her heart shriveling. He’d been about to kiss her and she’d stepped back. She’d rejected him even though they’d had the most perfect dinner in the history of perfection. Even though she’d been married to her cell phone for days on the off chance that he’d call. He liked her and goodness knows she liked him. He’d told her himself earlier that he didn’t have a girlfriend.

  So why had she stepped back?

  Two of the women in Amanda’s house party walked from the barn onto the patio. “Want to walk out with us?” They looked from her
to Josh.

  Um. She wanted to stay and let Josh finish his sentence.

  “Go ahead,” Josh said to the women. “Holly and I will follow in a second.” He exchanged a few more words with the caterer, then he and Holly fell in step several paces behind the women, who were in the midst of a discussion about the benefits of Brazilian blowouts.

  “I’ll look for you tomorrow at the wedding,” he said.

  Gamely, Holly tried to act as if she hadn’t just ruined her one chance at kissing him. “I’ll be the one at the wedding impersonating Mitzi’s lap dog.”

  “Someone has to.”

  “That someone is me.”

  “I’ll be the one in the tuxedo.”

  “I’ll do my best to recognize you, seeing as how men in tuxedos all look alike.”

  His lips bowed into an imitation of humor. He wasn’t actually amused, she knew. His eyes remained troubled.

  Remorse twisted hard within her.

  Josh slowed his progress. “Good night,” he said, loud enough for the ladies in front to hear.

  The other women fell over themselves thanking him, flirting with him, and wishing him goodnight.

  He responded with his trademark politeness. His suit jacket spread open as he thrust his hands in his pants pockets. He nodded to Holly right before she was bustled toward her car by the women’s excitement and chatter.

  She drove home with a lump in her throat and tears stinging her eyes, trying to understand what had just happened.

  She’d been working so hard to battle back the love for Josh she’d always harbored. Nonetheless, her time with him had softened her heart toward him. It had. When he’d dropped his guard just now, she’d seen that her feelings weren’t one-sided. He cared about her too. She’d felt the attraction behind his intentions and experienced the leap of her own response.

  So what had gone wrong inside of her? What had sabotaged her?

  Fear. That’s what had derailed her. She’d been afraid. Not of Josh. Of what, then?

  She reached her building, climbed the exterior staircase, and let herself into the hallway. Rob, gone. Mrs. Chapel, long asleep. Loneliness waited for her within her dark and solitary apartment. Beyond her apartment’s windows: people coming and going. Inside, emptiness.