by Logan Chance
“She’s doing some wedding thing around the corner from here. We can drop in.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to crash someone’s wedding.”
Henry laughs. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Umm ok,” I set my beer down. “Let’s do it.”
After I settle the tab, we leave the bar and walk a few blocks to meet his soon-to-be wife. The warm sun reminds me why I loved living here as a kid. Palm trees sway in the wind as we walk down the sidewalk. I definitely didn’t leave Florida because of the beauty or heat. It’s a relaxed atmosphere so different from the hustle and bustle of Atlanta’s big city. Everyone moves at a slower pace down here, not in a rush to get anywhere or do anything.
Reminds me of my father.
“How did you meet her?” I ask, cutting off my pesky inner monologue again.
“Dog park.”
I stop walking. “Wait, you were at a dog park? Last I remember you hated dogs.”
He laughs. “Oh, I still do. But, Kiki loves them. She’s a pet groomer.”
“I thought you said she was a wedding planner.”
“Yeah, it’s something new she’s trying out. It’s a little crazy, if you ask me.”
I hate to say it, but I don’t think this new engagement is going to “take” either. But that’s not my business. My business is the brewery and possibly getting Henry’s firm to invest.
FOUR
Kiki
Never trust a dog bride...
“Let me get this straight. He ran over the trellis? And then kissed you?” Poppi questions, her green eyes boring into mine.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. It was absurd.”
“What did he look like?” Lola asks as we stand outside the Dog Spaw, gathered at the back of my work van.
It’s not important he looked like any woman’s fantasy, because today is the wedding and I’ve got to face reality. “Just a guy.” I point to the pile of wood in the back of my van to divert them away from the stranger subject. “He ruined this.”
“Well, how was the kiss?” Lola jokes, clearly not dropping the subject.
There’s no way I can tell her the kiss was stellar. Like a cataclysmic happenstance that felt as if my lips were struck by lightning. No, I can’t say those words, because then I’d look like a freak.
“It was ok,” I finally answer, not making eye contact.
“Just ok, huh? Was there tongue?”
A bit. “No,” I lie. “It wasn’t like that. He just kissed me, and then went on his way, after I yelled at him.”
“Wait,” Lola says. “Why did he kiss you? Did he say?”
And that’s the bazillion dollar question. Why would he kiss a stranger? No explanation, no nothing. And there will never be one. And good riddance. He was a nightmare. A gorgeous nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.
“No. He never said.” I point to the pile of sticks. “Anyone know how to rebuild a trellis?”
“What are we going to do?” Poppi asks. “The wedding is in less than a few hours. Don’t tell me I wore this putrid color for nothing.”
The thought that Georgia’s wedding could be canceled over a trellis, has me turning as green as the dress I’m wearing to match the wedding colors. We stare at the rubble as if it’s going to reconstruct itself.
“Maybe we can just weave those flowers through something else?” Lola suggests, earning back friend points from not dropping the kiss. “You have a lot of doggy gates.”
“Great idea. We could do something with that.” With lightning speed, I remove the flowers that weren’t damaged and slam the van doors closed.
If this doesn’t go well, it could be the first and last wedding to take place here.
We hustle into the back of the Dog Spaw shop where we grab some gates and come up with a plan. It’s a little iffy, but worth a try. Poppi and Lola get to work on the flower weaving as I check on the set up of the garden area. When I step outside into the grass behind the building, Dennis, our part-time employee, puts the last white chair in position for the guests.
Some of my anxiety fades when I see everything in place. The sun will be the perfect backdrop to this little outdoor wedding, creating smears of pinks and oranges across the sky. I walk down the aisle. How can Henry want an indoor wedding? Weddings that take place outside hold a certain type of enchantment. The warm air delicately breezing through the veil to give that stunning appeal to the bride. Blossoming flowers standing up straight to capture the sun’s rays for the best lighting on them.
“Think the weather will hold up?” I ask, moving to stand on the white wooden dais. I look up at the cloudless blue sky. “The news said a thirty percent chance of rain.”
“They say that every day.” Dennis rests a tan hand on the back of a chair. “It’s Florida. There’s always one thing you can count on...rain.”
“And me,” his wife, Marge says, walking up the aisle, holding a silver tray laden with bone-shaped dog cookies. “I made these. What do you think?”
“They’re great. Thank you.”
She smiles and slides them onto the green cloth covered table designated for gifts.
The corners of Dennis’ eyes wrinkle as he smiles at his wife. That’s the way I hope Henry looks at me. I try to envision Henry and I being retired like Marge and Dennis, gray-haired and taking a part-time job at the same place just to get out of the house—together. The vision never materializes. I can’t picture it. Why can’t I picture it? The only thing I can picture is me getting a job away from his chip eating.
I step from the dais. Marge and Dennis are marriage goals. The way he smooches her cheek when he passes by her in the back halls. The way she gets all giddy when he enters a room.
They’ve been married for more years than I’ve been alive, and it’s hard to believe they haven’t just met.
Poppi peeks her head out the door to call me over to check out their design. “It’s no trellis, but it should definitely work.”
I walk over to where the original roses now weave throughout three doggy gates. “This is perfect.”
Poppi breathes out a sigh of relief and we very slowly and carefully transport it over to the podium where Dennis will stand when the bride and groom make their grand entrance.
After it's in place on the altar, I have to admit, it looks pretty damn good. The next half hour is spent tying ribbons on doggy bags, filled with goods from the spa. When I have a free moment, I check my phone for messages.
The first is from my mother—
“Marsha is hiring a string quartet for her wedding. Sounds lovely. Are you still planning on a DJ? I did some checking and maybe you need an orchestra?”
I’ll get back to her later on that. Not.
The next message is from Henry—
“I’m on my way and I have a big surprise for you.”
I’ll be honest, I’m not a fan of surprises.
“Was that Henry?” Poppi asks. “Did you tell him about the kiss?”
“Shh. Of course, I did. It wasn’t like I cheated.” I whisper, like the very mention of the kiss could somehow travel through the phone and make it into Henry’s ears. “I haven’t even thought about it since it happened. Henry made me dinner last night and everything was...perfect.”
Poppi side-eyes me. “That’s a very long answer. Is it because you liked the kiss?”
“No, of course not,” I deny.
Poppi gets that disbelieving look in her eyes she always gets whenever I talk about how romantic Henry is.
Thankfully the interrogation ends because Darlene, mother of the bride, saunters down the aisle in a tight red dress finished off with classy stilettos and pearls. “It’s almost time,” she says, her bleached blonde hair waving in the breeze. “The beautiful bride is here.”
Georgia trails behind her, wearing a veil that was handmade to fit her ears.
“Adorable,” I tell her. I glance at the time on my phone. “The photographer should be here any minute.
”
“Fun, right?” Poppi says to Darlene. “Why don’t we go inside and get Georgia ready.”
“She already looks amazing,” I bend over and give her a pat on the head. “Ace is a lucky dog.”
When I rise, over Darlene’s shoulder, I see what must be a mirage.
I blink.
It’s still there.
He’s still there.
The stranger that kissed me stands at the end of the aisle, staring straight at me.
FIVE
Ellis
Never trust your instincts...
I’ll be damned. There she is, looking prettier than ever in an olive-green strappy sundress with a white flower in her hair. Wow, it’s almost like one of those slo-mo things, where the girl stands there smiling and you realize yes, she’s the one I’ve been looking for.
Except, this girl isn’t smiling. And that’s getting way ahead of myself. I mean, we don’t even know each other.
Before I can cut off this internal monologue, and make an attempt to talk to her, she’s whisked away by two girls, and Henry finishes his phone call, and directs me into a row of chairs in the back. “Here is good,” he says.
“I feel weird about crashing a wedding. I don’t even know the bride or groom,” I whisper to Henry.
Henry rolls his eyes. “Trust me, it'll be fine.”
People sporadically filter in, until all the seats are filled. I'm guessing the bride and groom are pet lovers, based on the amount of guests who brought their dogs. A silver-haired man, wearing a tuxedo t-shirt and jeans, steps onto the platform in front of us, and a schnauzer soon joins him. A chihuahua licks my ankle as a bridal march pipes into the area.
All heads turn, and I follow suit, waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle.
Wait.
What?
“Umm, it’s a dog,” I whisper to Henry.
“Kiki has this vision that she thinks owners will love seeing their pets get married. This is her first one.” His tone implies his fiancée is ridiculous for thinking this way.
But, I’m so on board with it.
I watch as the English bulldog is led up the aisle on a leash by a tall, older woman with platinum blonde hair toward a black schnauzer looking dog. The owner of the schnauzer smiles, and slips the black dog a treat.
This is wild.
“I have to get a better look,” I tell Henry before standing. It’s not every day you’re invited to a dog wedding.
And it’s not every day someone pulls off something so amazing.
So as not to disrupt the ceremony, I slip up the side on the outside perimeter.
The English bulldog sits at the front with a look of ‘help’ written all over her smooshed face.
Like this is downright the coolest shit I’ve ever seen. If I have one critique, they needed a trellis, because...oh…
Standing right next to me is her.
The her.
The woman whose trellis I accidentally backed into and ...what did she call it? Murdered it.
“Cute, right?” she says before landing those stellar brown eyes on me. I can see all the different emotions play out across her stunning face. Surprise. Shock. Anger.
“What are you doing here?” she whisper-yells at me.
“I’m just here for a wedding.” I smile, loving the tinge of pink splayed across her cheeks.
“Who invited you?”
“Maybe the bride invited me.”
“She didn’t.”
“How do you know? The bride personally told you she didn’t?” I raise a brow.
She huffs a little, pushing back a stray strand of brown hair that’s fallen into her eyes. “You don’t know the bride.”
I lean in, so not to be overheard by the wedding that is in full swing now. “I was invited to the puptials. And be quiet, I don’t want to miss the bride saying her bow-vows.”
She parks a hand on her hip, her anger intensifying. “If you and the bride are such great friends, what’s her name?”
I blink.
“Exactly. You need to leave.”
“You can’t kick me out of this wedding.”
“I can and I will. It’s my wedding.”
I glance around, spotting a sign with a picture of the two dogs with their names underneath. “Georgia and Ace wouldn’t like it if I got kicked out.”
“Please leave.”
I fold my arms and lean against the back wall. “Can’t, I’m here to meet someone.”
Her eyes study me for a moment, and then she stalks away after a tense ‘fine’ from her lips.
Her ass sways in a hypnotizing way underneath the fabric of her little dress. She’s hands down the hottest girl at this wedding. And yes, she’s even hotter than the bride. Ha. I love a dog wedding.
Can’t wait for the reception. This time, I won’t make the same mistake twice—I’ll make sure I get her number, and name.
I head back to my seat next to Henry and watch as the two dogs are bound in holy mutt-rimony.
I survey the nice little crowd here today, wondering who Henry's fiancée is. Maybe one of the girls from earlier.
Knowing Henry, it’s the blonde. He always did have a thing for blondes with blue eyes. He used to call them the best kind of eye-candy growing up.
As Ace sniffs his new bride’s butt, I make a beeline straight for the girl, forgetting all about meeting Henry’s fiancée.
He’ll understand.
“I didn’t see them kiss,” I tell the hot little temptress who I still don’t have a name for.
“You’re still here?” She looks flustered, like she’s trying to keep control over some sort of a chaotic event I’m unaware of. “And speaking of kissing,” she turns on me, her finger waving in my face, “why did you kiss me anyway?”
“There you are,” Henry belts from a few feet away. Only he’s not talking about me though. To my horror, he wraps his arm around the girl I kissed and kisses her on the cheek. “I see you found your surprise.”
Surprise?
“I finally found a best man.” He’s all smiles and cheers and winks and cheers again. Fuck. He’s the exact opposite of how I’m feeling right now.
No, no. Say it isn’t so. This gorgeous woman can not be his fiancée.
I mean, sure Henry’s a good-looking dude, I guess. I’m sure he could score someone as hot as her, but she doesn’t seem like his type...at all.
And I’m not being biased about that.
“This is Ellis,” he says, and I try to force the muscles in my face to smile back.
“Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand, somehow keeping my cool together. “Where’s your ring?” Rude question to blurt out, I know, but she did not have a ring on the other day in the parking lot. I would have noticed. And I would have never kissed a woman sporting a rock on her finger. I’m not that kind of guy.
She glances at her left hand, like she too forgot she isn’t wearing one. “I’m waiting on a goat to...never mind.” She waves off the question and shakes my outstretched hand. “It’s so nice to meet you...uh...Ellis.”
Henry squeezes her tighter with a laugh, puffing out his chest with pride. “This is my Kiki. The affianced. She planned this crazy thing.” He raises a brow at me. “Thinks it’ll take off.”
For some reason, I’m not liking the condescending vibe coming from Henry’s eyebrow about the wedding she put together.
“You did a great job,” I tell her, not letting go of her soft hand. I’m very aware that I need to because we’re just standing here with our hands connected. “I think Georgia and Ace will live a long and happy life together.”
Henry laughs. “She gets a lot of crazy ideas. Just the other day she was looking into llamas.”
“Llamas?” Let go of her hand. Dude. “That sounds interesting.”
She’s not pulling away her hand either. “It was goats.”
A blonde with a little white furball in her hands joins our awkward conversation.
“We have
an issue,” she says to Kiki, and then glances at our hands still joined together and eyes me up and down.
This is the moment I should definitely let go of her hand, but I swear it’s like there’s superglue keeping them together.
Finally, Kiki let’s go, and I slide both my hands in my pockets. Don’t want that happening again.
Kiki and the blonde leave, and I’m left standing here with Henry. Lucky, lucky Henry. Lucky fucking Henry. The affianced.
So, that was Kiki.
He smiles, like he’s the happiest man in the world. And why wouldn’t he be? He’s got the girl. And she’s a phenomenal kisser. I’d never tell him that, though.
Oh god, I’ve kissed his soon-to-be wife. This isn’t good.
Well, I’m not telling him. And I’m pretty sure Kiki hasn’t said anything to him either.
That’s best. It’ll just be our own little secret. Not that it was anything major. It was just a kiss. A scorchingly hot, meaningless kiss.
My phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out, reading the text from my brother that he’s ready to meet. “Sorry, man. I gotta go. We’ll catch up soon. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Henry shakes my hand. “Thank you for being my best man. It’ll make Kiki happy.”
Near the altar, I get a glimpse of Kiki trying to stop Ace from humping his new bride. “It’s all about making the bride happy on her big day.”
Time to forget that kiss. Like I said, I’m only here to save the brewery and then get my ass back to Atlanta.
SIX
Kiki
Never trust a feeling...
Silence is not always a good thing. It’s eerily quiet in my office after the wedding ends and the guests have gone home. Everything has been packed away and now I’m going over the end-of-day reports on the computer.
And it’s too damn quiet. That means my thoughts are too damn loud. My face is hot, because what are the odds Ellis is Henry’s friend? How did this happen?
“Woohoo,” Lola says, entering with a champagne bottle and three plastic glasses. “Congratulations on your first successful wedding.”