The crowd shifts, murmurs spreading through the guests. And they make their way toward the rows of white folding chairs while chatting, which means somebody has spotted the bridal party arriving. I glance at the gazebo and see Aaron gesturing for me to join him.
“I need to get up there,” I tell Georgia, who’s still looking at me as though staring hard enough will make me cough up every secret I’ve ever had.
I don’t wait to see if she has anything else to say. I need to be standing in the gazebo when Cara appears at the end of the aisle made by the gap between the chairs.
My heart hammers in my chest while my brother does a final check, ensuring my suit still looks as good as it did the first three times he checked.
I look out at the guests, Cara’s side first—there’s definitely a bride’s side and groom’s side at this wedding—where I watch Georgia take her seat between Gin and Tony. Mel’s parents and her husband fill out the first row. Various other friends are behind them, and it looks as if guests kept the rear rows well balanced between the two.
My mother sits in the front row on the other side, and the smile she gives me helps chase away some of my jitters. But I also feel a twist of guilt in my gut. I wish this was real.
Daisy and AJ sit between her and Hope. Daisy has her hands clasped as if she’s about to witness a fairy tale come to life, and AJ’s swinging his feet and watching the birds swirling around the trees.
Instrumental music I don’t recognize begins playing, and Mel steps between the last row of chairs. I take in a deep breath, hold it, and then slowly exhale, straightening my shoulders and relaxing my knees.
It seems to take forever for her to make the short walk down the aisle, but I keep the smile on my face. She finally climbs the steps and stands opposite me on the gazebo, giving me a beautiful smile.
Then “Pachelbel’s Canon in D” blasts through the town square, the music swelling around us, and Cara is there.
She’s gorgeous. Her dress is perfect, and her hair’s pinned back, showing off what looks like old family pearls gracing her ears and neck. Cara Gamble has always been the most beautiful girl in the world as far as I’m concerned, but today she takes my breath away.
I can see the nerves. Her smile is wobbly as she looks around at the surprisingly large gathering of guests.
Look at me. I think the words over and over, willing her to hear me.
Then she does. Our gazes lock, and when I smile, she smiles back. Her back straightens, and she takes the first step toward me.
Here comes the bride.
Chapter Forty
Cara
I don’t know how many people have come to watch me get married. I have no idea if there are more guests on the bride’s side or the groom’s side of the aisle. I’m not even clocking Gin’s current facial expression.
All I can see is Hayden smiling at me.
He looks absolutely delicious in his suit, of course, but it’s his expression that draws me down the aisle to him. Confidence. Certainty. A warmth that keeps him from looking arrogant.
And a glimmer of humor that’s just for me. That look relaxes some of the tension in my muscles.
We can do this.
When I near the bottom of the gazebo stairs, Hayden steps down and offers me his hand. It’s warm and strong, and when he feels the trembling in mine, he gives it a squeeze before leading me up the stairs to stand before Debbie. The opening of the gazebo is wide, and with the elevation, everybody can see us.
I pass my bouquet to Mel, who thankfully bought us brand-new matching tubes of waterproof mascara for the occasion because she has tears running down her cheeks. But no streaks.
Since she’s guessed the truth of what’s happening, they’re probably tears of joy for my impending freedom. Or she just might be a wedding cryer.
Hayden still hasn’t released my hand, and together we turn to face my cousin. I wish we’d been able to get anybody but Debbie, but all I can do now is smile as she launches into the standard wedding opening.
Everything goes smoothly until she gets to the objection part of the program. “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I stand perfectly still, my eyes on Debbie. Behind me, I hear clothing rustling. Several throats are cleared. The whispers blend together, sounding like a white noise machine. There are even a few snickers and what sounds like an explosive laugh-turned-cough from the back of the room.
But nobody speaks.
“Last call,” Debbie says, and I can tell by the direction of her gaze she looks first at my mother, and then at my future mother-in-law. “Anybody?”
