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“They’re awesome.” Lizzie looked up as Nate Turner and his best man came striding down the aisle. Nate looked his usually calm self and was smiling and waving at the guests as he went past.
“No nerves there,” Adam commented. “I was a nervous wreck when I married Louisa.”
“I remember,” Lizzie said. “At one point, I thought we’d be waving you two off to Vegas before your families would agree to letting you get married.”
“They came around eventually,” Adam agreed, and lapsed into silence again.
Lizzie saw Avery approaching, a clipboard in her hand, and an earpiece with a mic she was currently speaking into. She waved at Lizzie as she went by and kept going toward the entrance of the guest center. Lizzie wondered if Della and her family had arrived. From what she remembered, Della’s father was dead so her mother was going to walk her up the aisle.
A whole bunch of Morgans and Millers filled up the two rows in front of Lizzie and Adam. They spent a few minutes catching up before being asked to stand to welcome the bride. When he stood, Adam took hold of Lizzie’s hand and held it, his callused thumb rubbing circles around her palm.
A guitar started playing way off to the right and Adam went still.
“That sounds just like Travis Whitley,” he murmured.
“Who’s that?” Lizzie asked.
“Just one of the best country and western singers of this generation.” Adam looked over the top of her head toward the small stage setup. “Jeez . . . that is Travis Whitley! How the hell did he end up singing at Nate Turner’s wedding?”
“You’ll have to ask Nate after the service,” Lizzie suggested. She had no idea when Adam had developed a taste for country music. “Which, by the way, is just about to begin.”
Della appeared, wearing a short full-skirted white dress with a hat and veil that looked like she came straight out of the 1950s. Her smile was for Nate alone, and Lizzie had to stifle the urge to cry.
A handkerchief appeared under her nose and she took it gratefully.
“I knew you’d cry,” Adam murmured in her ear. “You always do.”
“Thank you.” Lizzie dabbed at her tears, gently blew her nose, and settled down to watch the wedding.
* * *
He’d told her that she looked beautiful, and she’d waved it off with a smile. But she really had taken his breath away. The softness of the silky dress and her pale, auburn curls made her look like she might fly away at any second. He didn’t want her to leave him, and was determined to keep her firmly anchored to his side.
He hadn’t been to a wedding for ages. Seeing his old school friend Nate get married had reminded him so much of his own wedding day. He and Louisa had been ridiculously young and so in love that they’d rushed through the whole thing just to get it done so that they could get on with their life together.
If he’d known their time together was going to be so short, he would’ve savored those vows, made sure she knew he meant them, enjoyed the moment more. But hindsight was a marvelous thing and he couldn’t change jack about what had happened in the past. But he could put that knowledge to good use with Lizzie.
He went to look for her and found her on the edge of the small dance floor tapping her foot to the music. She’d always loved music. He remembered her and Louisa making up elaborate dance routines to all their favorite songs while they were supposedly watching him at football practice.
He really wished he could dance....
His father was out there with Leanne, and they were laughing and chatting like old friends. The Morgan twins, HW and Ry, were dancing, too, swapping their partners like professionals.
A slower song came on just as Lizzie looked hopefully up at him. He resigned himself to his fate.
“Would you like to dance?” He nodded in the direction of the dance floor.
“You don’t dance,” Lizzie said. “You never did.”
“I think I can manage this one.” He tugged on her hand and pulled her gently into his arms. “I’ll try not to step on your toes.”
She laughed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, aligning herself against him, her head fitting nicely against his shoulder. He let out a long sigh as his body recognized hers and flowed to close the gap between them. The actual song made no impression on him because he was too busy enjoying having Lizzie in his arms. She felt right there—as if suddenly all the pieces of their particular puzzle made sense.
