How to Make a Wedding

by Cindy Kirk

  Standing in my store, looking even handsomer in person with his hair a bit wind-tossed and his eyes a richer shade of brown than I remembered, was none other than Nate Gallagher. He wore a navy-blue merino sweater with sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and a broken-in pair of toasted-brown chinos with a braided leather belt and the kind of smile that could make a girl light-headed. He looked like a walking J.Crew advertisement.

  I fumbled with the pencil, and in my attempt to catch it, knocked the notebook to the floor. I ducked behind the counter to pick both up with all of Africa’s heat gathering inside the confines of my cheeks. Nate Gallagher was in my shop! And I found myself fighting the very same urge I fought when we first encountered one another, only instead of hiding beneath my steering wheel, I wanted to army-crawl into the back room and never come out again. I forced myself to stand and set the notebook on the counter between us. “Sorry about that. Wow, Nate. What are you doing here?”

  “It’s my sister’s birthday. I took her out to dinner last night. I swear I wasn’t going to stop by unexpectedly like this, but then I got your e-mail this morning, and well . . .” He stuck his hands inside his pockets and shrugged with the most adorable, self-deprecating expression ever to grace a man’s face. “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Oh yeah?” I set the pencil next to the notebook. It almost rolled off the counter again. I made a spastic grab for it, then tucked a strand of auburn hair behind my ear.

  Settle down, Amelia.

  “Anyway, I was wondering . . .” He looked at William and Bridget—who were both gawking, gave them an apologetic wave, then leaned a little over the counter. “Well, maybe we could grab a coffee or something.”

  “Oh, a coffee?” Why was my voice coming out so high? Seriously, what was that? I cleared my throat and tucked another strand of hair behind my ear. Glanced nervously at my brother, then back at the man who was making my underarms sweaty. “Well, I’m working. The shop doesn’t close until one.”

  He checked his watch. “That’s only a half hour away. I don’t mind waiting.”

  I bit my lip, searching for an excuse. Begging the heat in my cheeks to go away already.

  “Bridget and I can close down for you,” William blurted.

  “What?” I let out a nervous laugh. “But you don’t know how to close.”

  My brother made wide eyes at me that thankfully, Nate didn’t see. Apparently William wanted me to go on a real-life date as badly as Rachel. “I’ve watched you do it enough. And Bridget used to work at a flower shop in high school, so if there’s a last-minute customer, she can make the bouquet. Right, Bridge?”

  Her eyes glittered with curiosity as she looked from Nate to me. “Right. We’ve got this, Amelia. You should go have coffee with . . .?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I let out another nervous laugh. “This is my, uh, friend, Nate Gallagher. Nate, this is my brother, William, and his fiancée, Bridget.”

  “Ah, William. It’s nice to meet you.” Nate shook both of their hands with a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. He knew more about them than either had any idea.

  “You too,” William said, darting a glance my way. “Hey, if you’re staying the night, you should come to the corn maze with us tonight. It’s this yearly tradition. Lots of fun.”

  This time I made big eyes at William. What did he think he was doing?

  “A corn maze, huh?” I didn’t miss the twinkle in Nate’s eyes. “That sounds like fun.”

  We all stood there for an awkward moment.

  Then Nate slid his hands back inside his pockets and pivoted one shoulder toward the door. “Shall we?”

  The air was crisp and clean as I stepped outside beside Nate.

  “Eloise’s Bakery?” he said.

  “It’s great, but Eloise doesn’t serve coffee. Patty serves coffee.”

  We walked side-by-side down the wide sidewalk, the smell of fallen leaves and Eloise’s pumpkin muffins swirling together in the chilly breeze. I searched for something to say, but my tongue was officially tied. Nate, however, strolled beside me, looking perfectly at ease while taking in our surroundings. He caught me staring and smiled. It was a grin that etched crinkles into the corners of his eyes. “You’re right. This place is gorgeous in October.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I scrambled for something—anything—to add, but I was still trying to catch up with the moment. I was actually walking down Main Street with Nate Gallagher by my side.

  He motioned toward the sign above Patty’s House of Pancakes. “Is this the place?”

  I nodded.

  He stopped in front of the diner’s large picture window and pivoted on his heels to face me. “Amelia, if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have bombarded you like this. I don’t want to force you to keep me company.”

  “You’re not forcing me. Not at all. I’m sorry I’m making you feel that way. You just . . . you caught me off guard. And I did warn you that I’m shy. That wasn’t an exaggeration.” My heart thundered harder the more I rambled. I scuffed my shoe against the cement, wishing I could be articulate and interesting in person. “I’m really sorry.”

  Nate tipped up my chin with his knuckle. It was a friendly action. Not too intimate. Yet heat stretched inside my belly, extending all the way down into my toes. He brought his hand quickly away. “There you go again.”

  “What?”

  “Apologizing.”

  A smile spread across my face. And as it did, some of the knots in my stomach loosened. Somehow, simultaneously, this guy set my heart at ease and my senses on high alert. I took a deep breath. Forced my shoulders to relax.

  He dipped his chin. “Are you sure you want to have coffee with me?”

  “I’m positive.” I glanced inside the window, where we’d already garnered the attention of a few familiar patrons. “But I should warn you. If you take me in there, Patty will see us. And once Patty sees us, all the other Bunco Babes will know that I was having coffee with a stranger. And then the entire town of Mayfair will be abuzz.”

  The twinkle returned to his eyes. “What, exactly, is a Bunco Babe?”

  “They’re a group of women who get together once a week to play Bunco and swap gossip. They have pink T-shirts and everything.”

  He chuckled.

  The sound of it boosted my confidence. Maybe I could be as interesting in person as I was in our e-mail exchanges.

  “That’s not a problem for me, since I don’t live here. You’re the one who has to deal with the fallout.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “Are you up for it?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, then.” Nate opened the door and swept the air with his arm, an invitation for me to go first.

  It didn’t take more than half a second before Patty saw us from behind the counter. Her eyes went extra wide, making them look as white as white inside her dark face. Nearly as wide as she was tall, she waddled more than she walked. “Amelia Woods, coming in on a Saturday before one o’clock?” She eyed Nate approvingly. “And who’s this good-looking gentleman friend you have here?”

  Every single person in the diner had stopped eating and was now officially staring. Patty’s voice carried.

  “Patty, this is Nate. Nate, this is Patty.”

  Nate shook Patty’s hand, told her it was a pleasure to meet her, and said the food smelled delicious.

  She swatted her dish towel at him, then led us both to the corner booth, where it was—as she emphasized—more romantic. The flush in my cheeks expanded into my ears.

  “What can I get you?” Patty asked as Nate and I scooted into our seats.

  He deferred to me. “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head. My stomach was currently engaged in a circus routine. I couldn’t eat if I tried.

  “I guess it’ll just be coffee then.”

  Patty scooted off to get our order, and Nate relaxed back into the booth, looking at me with a big, goofy grin.

  “What?” I said.
r />   “Nothing. It’s just great to be here with you in person.”

  The circus performers in my stomach did some fluttery acrobatics. “How’s the book?”

  “I’m closing in on the end.”

  “Do you have anything lined up for after?”

  “A couple opportunities have come my way.” His grin didn’t falter.

  And it was highly contagious. I’m pretty sure the two of us looked like a couple of grinning fools. “Are you really not going to tell me who the celebrity is?”

  He shook his head. “My lips are sealed.”

  Patty returned, set two mugs in front of us, filled both to the brim, and slipped away.

  Nate crossed his arms on the table and leaned toward me. “Your shop is pretty great.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I saw the picture of you and your mom on the wall.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You two look a lot alike.”

  “I definitely got her hair. But she wore the red prettier, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  My skin prickled with pleasure, all the way up into my hairline. “So, twenty-four?”

  “Any more guesses?”

  I took a slow sip of my coffee, keeping eye contact over the rim of my mug. “Number of articles you’ve written?”

  “No, but that’s a good guess.”

  “Countries you’ve visited?”

  “I wish.”

  “Number of girls you’re currently in correspondence with?”

  He let out a bark of laughter, then eased his arm over the backrest of the booth. He was perfection sitting across from me—absolute perfection. And he was here. With me. By choice. Laughing like he was enjoying it as much as I was enjoying it. “I like you, Amelia.”

  The words heated up every square inch of my skin. “I like you too.”

  “Enough to let me tag along to Wisconsin’s biggest corn maze?”

  With him looking at me the way he did, the word no dropped completely out of my vocabulary.

  Nate picked me up in the same car I rear-ended in September. He walked up to my house and rang my doorbell and met Baxter, who liked him instantly. A good sign. The fifteen-minute drive had me hyperaware. Of my body, of his body, the closeness of our arms as they rested on the console. And holy cow, he smelled good. We agreed to meet William and Bridget at seven in front of the barn entrance, where the Sawyers sold their tickets—for the petting zoo, hayrack rides, a barnyard haunted house, and of course, the corn maze.

  Gravel crunched beneath Nate’s tires as he parked in the makeshift lot. Nate told me to sit tight and came around to open my door. The night was chillier than normal for mid-October. Enough that I’d worn my winter coat and a scarf. Nate had on a corduroy jacket that fit him well. Even though my hands were freezing, I kept them out of my pockets. We walked toward the big red barn, puffs of frozen breath escaping into the dark, our knuckles every bit as close as our arms had been on the console.

  I spotted William and Bridget first. They waved hello as we approached. I had called my brother earlier and given the two of them strict orders not to ask how Nate and I met, that it was too embarrassing to bring up. I blew heat into my palms and rubbed my hands together as the four of us stepped inside the barn. There wasn’t a very long line. The cold had chased a lot of people away. I reached inside my coat pocket to remove the twenty-dollar bill I’d stuffed inside, but Nate removed his billfold and asked for two tickets to the corn maze. I protested. “You’re my guest. That means I should pay.”

  “But I invited myself, remember? And there’s no use arguing. My last name is Gallagher. We Irish are stubborn folk.”

  I peered up at him. “You don’t look Irish.”

  “That’s because I take after my mom, who is Italian. I’m afraid Italians are every bit as stubborn as the Irish, which means I have a double dose of it running through my veins.” He winked. “Another one of my faults.”

  Once the tickets were purchased, the four of us strolled to the maze entrance. Stadium-type lights had been set up around the periphery, casting enough glow down onto the cornfield that we could see. The girl who took our tickets asked if we wanted maps. Nate declined, insisting it would be cheating. As soon as we stepped inside, we were faced with one of two choices—left or right.

  “I have an idea,” William said. “Bridget and I go left. You two go right. Whoever comes out last buys the other couple hamburgers at Patty’s afterward.”

  Nate looked down at me, that irresistible twinkle in his eyes, as if to say it was my call.

  “You have yourself a deal,” I said.

  William grabbed Bridget by the waist and hurried left. They disappeared to the sound of her giggling.

  Nate and I were officially alone. Surrounded by giant stalks of corn.

  We started off, this time with my hands in my pockets. Even if the air between us did spark with heat, it was too cold to leave them out. Off in the distance, some teenagers shrieked.

  “Number of gum sticks you’ve stuffed into your mouth at one time.”

  Nate’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  He laughed. “Do I have a big mouth or something?”

  The darkness had me feeling bold. “You have a nice mouth.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  We reached another fork in the path. Nate let me pick. I chose left.

  “Number of Audrey Hepburn movies you own?”

  He laughed again. “I don’t think she’s in that many movies, is she?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the classic movie expert.”

  “You’re not an amateur yourself.”

  The wind rustled the corn. Crickets chirped a slow melody. The cold had slowed down their leg-rubbing.

  “What got you interested in them?” I asked.

  “My college roommate freshman year. He was a film student and absolutely obsessed with Judy Garland. I’m not kidding. He covered his entire side of the room with posters of her. It was weird. He was always watching the old black-and-whites.” We came to another fork. Nate chose right. I don’t think either of us was in a hurry to get to the end. “I started watching them with him and discovered they were pretty great. The interest stuck.” Nate picked up a stick and dragged the tip along the stalks. “What about you?”

  “My dad was a big fan. We used to curl up on the couch together and watch them. One time, when I was in fourth grade, I was sick with the stomach flu for an entire week. He stayed home with me and we had a movie marathon. Started with musicals—Singing in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Then we moved on to some others. He was a quiet man—my dad. But a big romantic at heart.”

  Nate raised his eyebrow. “Like his daughter.”

  “You think I’m romantic?”

  “A crush on Mr. Darcy? A fan of fairy tales? Owner of a flower shop? I’d say yes, most definitely.” He did it so smoothly, so suavely, I barely noticed it happening. One second my hand was tucked inside my coat pocket, the next it was out, my fingers entwined with his. It made my stomach swoop, and every single one of my nerve endings tingle.

  “Holy mackerel, your fingers are frozen.” He stopped in the middle of the maze, took both of my hands, and rubbed them between his larger ones. I didn’t feel the least bit cold. In fact, I felt very, very warm. He must have sensed the change in temperature too, because his rubbing slowed, then stopped altogether.

  I looked up at him, my heart racing so fast I was positive he could hear it.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

  My breathing turned shallow.

  He set his hand on the small of my back, drew me closer, dipped his chin . . .

  And then a laughing couple rounded the corner and the two of us fell apart.

  My brain was so fuzzy, my body so hot, I didn’t pay much attention to who the couple was. Nate, however, released a disbelieving laugh. “Chelse?”

&nbs
p; “Nate?” she said in return.

  My breathing went from shallow to nonexistent.

  “What are you two doing here?” Nate asked.

  “Your little sister wanted to go out on her birthday weekend, and so here we are, at the Sawyer Farm corn maze.” Matt wrapped his arm around her waist. “We’re a wild and crazy married couple, I tell ya.”

  The two of them closed the gap between us. I really, really wished they wouldn’t.

  “Never mind what we’re doing here. What are you doing here?” Chelsea punched Nate’s arm, then looked at me, her expression morphing from delighted to startled. “Amelia?”

  “Amelia?” Matt parroted.

  My mouth went as dry as cotton.

  Nate’s attention shot from his sister to me to Matt. “You guys know each other?”

  Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure we do. Amelia and I . . .”

  “Amelia and Matt were college sweethearts.” Chelsea tucked her arm around her husband’s elbow. “They dated for four years. What in the world are you two doing together?”

  “We, uh . . .” I swallowed, not at all sure what to say.

  Nate looked like a deer in the headlights, watching his life flash before his eyes. Only instead of his life, he was probably replaying our run-in outside the church all those days ago when our worlds collided. Judging by the flicker in his brow, the pieces were coming together.

  What a nightmare.

  A lump as hard as a rock had parked itself inside my throat. I sat listlessly on my couch in the dark, Baxter curled up in my lap. Nate had dropped me off thirty minutes earlier. I hadn’t taken off my coat. I hadn’t taken off my shoes. I’d just plopped down on this cushion and turned comatose.

  After our run-in with the two people on the face of the planet I never wanted to run into, we ended up completing the rest of the maze with them. Matt and Chelsea went on and on about what a small world it was and how unbelievable it was that we knew each other. Neither seemed to notice that Nate and I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. I was too busy holding back tears to join in.

  Once we came out, Chelsea and Matt said their goodbyes, and Nate and I waited for William and Bridget, who hadn’t come out yet. I attempted to apologize, maybe a million different times in the five minutes we waited, but I didn’t know how. All the tingling sensations had turned into this rock-hard lump in my throat that refused to leave. It was obvious Nate didn’t want to be there anymore. It was obvious I’d made him feel like a complete fool.