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  I give Sophie a smile and nod that says let me take care of this, and she walks away with relief on her face. “We’ve all agreed that Sonnet needs her privacy to get ready on her special day. Please respect her wishes, or I’m going to have to escort you off the premises.”

  Hurricane Victoria immediately scoffs, “Are you threatening me?” Her dark eyes are daring me to go into action.

  I keep my voice on an even keel when I answer, “The Best Man is a beefy-armed Delaware State Trooper, and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to oblige. So, it’s not a threat at all. It’s a promise. He—along with the rest of us—are already concerned about the comments you’ve made in the past 24 hours that have upset the bride, and we aren’t going to run the risk of anything else you have to say causing any further distress.”

  “Well, I never!” The older woman’s face is a portrait of shock and awe. I am not sure anyone has ever stood up to her before.

  I look up to find Claire, Sophie, Karen and Lindy have formed a human barricade in the hallway that leads to the bedroom where Sonnet is safely ensconced. Their faces are fixed with firm scowls, all eyes glaring at Hurricane Victoria.

  “Come on, Mother,” Mrs. Jayne says, shaking her head. Mrs. Wilson scoffs again for good measure, mumbling some snarling tangle of empty threats under her breath as she marches toward the door. Her daughter follows behind her, but at the last minute, she glances over her shoulder and gives us a thumbs-up.

  Twelve

  Silence has fallen over the wedding guests, who are perched on the edges of their wooden seats, waiting for the bride to emerge from the back of the room. The crowd is smaller than what Drew and Sonnet originally planned for. They had more than a few last-minute cancellations because of the nasty weather. Why are people so afraid of getting a little wet? is what Sonnet asked, but I don’t know if I can blame them. Now meteorologists are saying they’re tracking a Nor’easter moving down from the north.

  Brynne and I had a pow-wow with Sonnet and then separately with Drew about whether or not we should proceed. Sonnet called her friend at NOAA, who insisted flooding was going to be highly localized and worse just south of us. Drew and Sonnet both insisted the show must go on, and so here we are.

  The music swells as the doors at the back open, and the ladies start to make their way down the aisle, which is studded by topiaries of seashells, starfish and tropical flowers. First comes Sonnet’s former coworker Karen, who seems to be a nice lady in her late forties or early fifties. She’s a bit of a pearl-clutcher, and I feel obligated to watch my language around her, but otherwise she’s cool. Then comes Lindy, Meric’s girlfriend, who is just as sweet as can be.

  Next is Sophie; she was Sonnet’s roommate when she lived in Chincoteague and worked at NASA. They seem to have a bit of a frenemy relationship, and I’m kind of surprised Sonnet chose her for the bridal party. But, in the very brief amount of time I dated Sophie (we’re talking two dates, maybe three), I did learn she is pretty overbearing. That’s probably why it didn’t work out. She fits part of my standard girlfriend profile being short and brunette, but she’s far from the quiet, clingy type. She has no issue speaking her mind and probably guilted Sonnet into choosing her as a bridesmaid, if I know her as well as I think I do.

  Next comes Claire, who always looks radiant. I don’t know her as well as I’d like to, but I do know she’s an author too. I would love to talk shop with her—even though her books are meant for adults—but I would have to give up my secret to do so. So, obviously that isn’t happening any time soon.

  The last bridesmaid to glide down the aisle is none other than Brynne. She looks so tall in her silver heels. I never noticed what long legs she has or how shapely they are. Probably because this is the first time I’ve ever seen them. She has a muscular, athletic build with toned calf muscles and strong-looking arms, but I never noticed how curvy she is at the same time. The dress accentuates her ample breasts, narrow waist, and full hips, and I love the way it gently swishes as she walks, almost like it’s floating around her. She’s wearing her long, golden-red hair piled in loose curls on top of her head with one tendril falling against her cheek. Her makeup is soft but brings out her deep brown eyes, and her lips are a beautiful rose shade.

  I take a deep breath, feeling my chest swell in my fitted dress shirt. There’s a tight lump in my throat as I watch her move toward me, and a rush of nerves joins the tightness when her eyes meet mine. She flashes me a demure smile, then her gaze flits down to the bouquet of flowers, shells and starfish she’s carrying. All I can think in this moment is how badly I wish she would give me a chance.

  If I could go back and do it all over again, go back to that first time I met her in the ER, I would have never given her a hard time about being a doctor. Sometimes, I think I’m being charming and witty, but it seems to come across as cocky to some women. I probably would have gotten to know her a little better and perhaps asked her to grab a coffee with me right away. Now I’ve known her now for how long? Six weeks, maybe even longer—and almost every interaction we have makes her more irritated with me.

  Except for back in the kitchen earlier today. I really thought we had reached a turning point—all because of the magical rain.

  My attention is stolen away when the music changes abruptly, growing very loud to announce Sonnet’s impending arrival. Every guest rises to their feet, enraptured as her petite ivory-draped form begins to make its way toward us on the arm of her father. She does look stunning, and Drew is an incredibly lucky man, but my gaze keeps involuntary shifting back to Brynne. I am almost positive I see a tear sparkling in the corner of her eye as she watches her friend make her way toward her groom.

  I would give anything to know what Brynne is thinking right now. Is her tear one of sheer joy, or is there a tiny part of her who wishes it was her behind the veil?

  As soon as I’m in place, the music changes to “Here Comes the Bride,” and everyone rises and turns toward the back of the room. I hear gasps and the click of the camera Ken is aiming from every angle he can scramble to. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m not a crier, but nonetheless there’s a stinging at the corner of my eye as a single tear of happiness swells there, perched like a diamond solitaire in an engagement ring setting.

  I’m so very happy for my friend. Beyond happy. But yes, there is a tiny wistful part of me that wonders what it might be like to be a bride, to float down the aisle on a cloud of white to meet my grinning-with-pride groom. And Drew is absolutely glowing. His love for Sonnet is radiant all over his face. I’ve never seen either of them happier than they are in this moment. I don’t think there’s a dry eye in this entire place, so I’m not going to give myself a hard time for my single tear. I mean, I may put up a tough exterior, but anyone who knows me knows there is a huge heart under there!

  We had a few tense moments earlier today when I told Sonnet the photographer was unable to make it. I was glad to have a back-up plan, which is Ken taking photos with Winston’s nice camera. She was still understandably displeased, but not as displeased as when Chris informed her there is now a Nor’easter headed right for us. So much for worrying about the tropical depression; now we have a whole new storm on our hands. But after a phone call to her meteorologist friend, she felt reasonably sure we should be fine provided we get off the peninsula tonight. The worst of the flooding isn’t going to happen until tomorrow, apparently.

  For some reason, my eyes snap over to where Chris is standing just beyond Drew. I’ve stopped calling him Trooper Asshat, I realize. I think that change happened when he was this close to kissing me, and I was left wondering what would have happened if we’d not been interrupted. I thought I’d find him watching Sonnet’s father give her a kiss on the cheek as he presents her to Drew, but instead his eyes are glued right to me. I give him a flirty smile, then immediately regret it when I see a flash of excitement explode in his expanding pupils.

  Deep breath, Brynne, I tell myself as Winston begins to address the betrot
hed couple and the wedding guests, thanking everyone for braving the rain to watch Sonnet and Drew say “I do.” And yes, he rhymed it just like that. I struggle to keep my attention on his smooth, lilting voice and not wandering over to where Chris’s eyes are still pinned right on me. Why is he making this so hard for me? I feel like a terrible friend to be this distracted during her wedding ceremony.

  Once they start sharing their vows—which they wrote themselves—it’s much easier to give my full attention. I can’t even begin to imagine writing my own vows, but with Drew being a creative type and Sonnet being a perfectionist, they are, of course, funny, brilliant, endearing and beautiful all at the same time. I find myself giggling when Sonnet vows to indulge Drew’s obsession for anything and everything Star Wars, as well as to allow a reasonable amount of video game time. Drew, in turn, vows to never use the guest towels and to always return the toilet seat to its original position.

  Then that tear in my eye grows heavy, threatening to slide down my cheek when Drew promises to love her—not only to the moon and back—but to the furthest edge of the furthest galaxy in the entire universe, and then back again on an endless loop. Sonnet chokes up at that line too.

  I feel Chris’s eyes on me when I wipe away that tear, and I glance up just in time to spot a glistening in his eyes too.

  Moments later, Winston is pronouncing them husband and wife, and Drew sweeps his bride into his arms, sealing their union with a deep, lingering kiss—almost a little too lingering for public viewing. They seem to be on a totally different planet when the room bursts into cheers and applause. The music strikes up—and it’s the Star Wars theme! Sonnet shoots her groom a look that screams, is that what I think it is? and the attendants begin to file out in pairs: Luke and Karen, Meric and Lindy, Sam and Sophie, Jack and Claire.

  I make my way toward Chris, who is beaming a megawatt smile at me, almost as jubilant as if he and I had just exchanged vows instead of Drew and Sonnet. I hook my arm in his, an electric current racing up me as soon as my skin makes contact with the fabric of his suit sleeve. Damn it, why is my body betraying me like this? I force myself to glance back over my shoulder at the bride and groom, who are still reveling in the applause of their guests.

  Now for Drew’s real surprise.

  Sonnet pretended to act shocked and offended by the Star Wars’ theme music playing as the recessional, but the truth is, she has known the whole time. Plus, she went out and bought five pairs of light sabers—yes, ten light sabers total—so we could form a light saber arch for her and Drew to pass under as they make their way back down the aisle. I grab a blue one; Chris grabs a green one, and we join the lines formed by the other attendants as the happy couple begins to make their way toward us.

  The look on Drew’s face is absolutely priceless!

  I know originally Drew and Sonnet had planned for the guests to enjoy a cocktail hour outdoors. The cocktail hour has been moved to the open-air veranda in front of the shelter. The winds are starting to pick up as the Nor’easter heads our way, but at least the flood waters have receded. My skirt billows around me as I request a cocktail from the bartender, who has a rolling bar that he’ll move inside for the main event as soon as the tables are set up for dinner and the dance floor is constructed. I’m just thankful the event rental company has already dropped off all of the supplies and gotten their big heavy truck over the bridge before it gets any nastier out.

  My brother has texted me about a dozen times asking if everything is okay. I have assured him that yes, things are fine. There’s a jovial vibe emanating from the guests, a kind of “grin and bear it” mentality. Sonnet even made an aside in her vows when she promised to love Drew in the sunshine and the rain—adding, “Even a crazy storm on our wedding day could never dampen my love for you.” It was a real awwww moment.

  “Hi,” I hear a deep voice behind me as soon as the bartender hands me my drink. I whirl around to see Chris standing there holding a beer.

  “I see you found the beer,” I tease him as I take my first sip of the signature cocktail for the evening. Drew was a bartender before he created Delmarva Art Connection, so he dubs the recipe he dreamed up for the occasion the “Star Shooter.” I don’t know what’s in it, but it’s blue, and it’s delicious.

  “I see you also procured some booze,” he fires back with a sly grin. “That was some ceremony, huh?”

  “It was beautiful,” I counter.

  “Did I or did I not see the sparkle of a tear in your eye?” he whispers, leaning in close enough that I can smell his aftershave. Which is an interesting observation because he didn’t shave. He has just enough stubble outlining his jaw to give him that sexy scruffy look. Damn it. Why does he have to be so damn cute? This would be a hell of a lot easier if he were ugly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stifle a giggle to try to cover up my lie, but I fail miserably, which elicits a delighted smile from him. He takes another drink of his beer.

  What is it about weddings? It’s kind of hard to stay out of a romantic mood at them, you know?

  “Do you think you could save me a dance later?” he questions, a keen shimmer of hope dancing in his gold-flecked hazel orbs.

  “Oh, you dance?” I glance down quickly at his feet. He’s wearing nicely polished dress shoes, and I have no idea how he’s avoided getting them muddy.

  “We’ve already established I’m a man of many talents,” he says, leaning in close to me again. I can only imagine what this looks like from across the porch. I glance up, just for a second, and Lindy is winking at me from across the room. Yeah, it clearly looks like a case of awkward flirting.

  “I think I could probably save you a dance.” The words that come out of my mouth have a subtle air of nonchalance, but inside I’m squealing a little. And the butterflies are already working out their dance steps inside my chest. I think they’re doing something rather aerobic because I feel all fluttery inside, something I haven’t felt for a while. A long while.

  “I look forward to it,” he says with a grin and turns on his heel to walk away, leaving a coolness in his wake. Or maybe that was just the wind picking up. Sure enough, the skirt of my dress starts to blow around my knees again. If I’m not careful, I’m going to inadvertently flash the entire group of wedding guests gathered nearby.

  It won’t hurt to dance with Trooper Asshat, I tell myself. It’s a wedding. That’s what you do at weddings. It won’t mean anything.

  As soon as I walk away from her, I want to walk right back over there. I chug the rest of my beer then head toward the kitchen where there are more bottles stashed in the fridge. I open the door and the caterers shoot me evil looks like they don’t want me in there. They’re cooking up a storm: water is boiling; bread is baking, and it all smells so damn good. Sonnet is a vegan, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from the reception menu, but if this tastes anywhere near as good as it smells, I think I’m in for a treat.

  “Sorry, excuse me,” I shoot them my most charming smile. It looks like a father and daughter operation maybe? Or else it’s a May-December romance type of thing? Doesn’t matter, I just want a beer. I pop the top and start to take a swig as I push my way out the back door and into the hallway where the ladies of the wedding party and bride hung out until they made their grand entrances earlier today.

  I spot Meric and Lindy nuzzling each other in the corner. I want to go tease them so bad, but I try to slip away without anyone noticing. That’s when I bump right into Drew’s dad.

  “Hey, Bob, how’s it going? Want me to grab you a beer?”

  “No, no.” He shakes his head, then his smile fades as his eyebrows crease with worry. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the latest radar map?” He pulls out his cell phone, which is so big, it looks more like an e-reader tablet than a phone. He pulls up an image and zooms in on it. I had no idea Drew’s dad was such a techy guy.

  I peer down at the phone, but I can’t really understand what I’m seeing. I mean, it’s a lot
of yellow and red, but it’s hard for me to see where it’s actually located, Bob’s so zoomed in. Both landmarks and bodies of water are completely hidden under big blobs of foreboding colors. “Can you take it out a little? I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”

  “Sure.” He nods and touches the screen again to zoom out. “That’s Philly right there. And Dover. And it’s tracking southwest. Might go inland, but it’s a pretty wide storm.”

  “Or it could break up?” I raise my eyebrows with a hopeful smirk.

  “Anything’s possible, but with the tide coming in…” He shakes his head. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and I just know it doesn’t look good. We may have dodged that tropical storm, but I don’t think we can dodge this Nor’easter. What time do you think the festivities are going to wrap up here?”

  “Well, it’s five-thirty now, and I think dinner is at six or six-thirty. There’s going to be dancing after that, of course. Then the cake at maybe eight? I’d say we could be out of here by nine if we can get things cleaned up.”

  “I heard Brynne’s brother owns this place, right?” he questions.

  I nod.

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we got everyone out of here by nine, then came back to clean up later. I mean, it’s just not worth staying here and risking getting flooded in if the tide goes over the bridge, know what I mean?”

  “Do you want to talk to Drew or should I?” I ask him. I understand the safety issues, and I have a feeling as the resident law enforcement officer, Bob is asking me to step up.

  “Do you mind? I mean, can’t you use some of your state trooper authority to whip everyone into shape?” He gives me a wink and a hearty slap on the back.

  “I can do that,” I answer. “No problem at all.” My chest puffs a little bit as I slide on the yoke of responsibility for getting everyone off the property before nine o’clock. That will give us two hours before the tide is fully in. If we can get out by eight, that would be even better, but nine is definitely doable. Now I just have to find Drew.