Wedding Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories

by Lisa Scott

  She wrapped her hands around her knees. “He was supportive, but not emotionally. There was no sympathy, no hugs. Just a promise of good medical care.” She shrugged. “I wanted him to react the way you did. That’s when I realized, I really wanted you. Luke was a safe choice for me. It wasn’t really about love. Not like what we had.”

  “What we have. It never went away, Miranda. Not for me.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Maybe we can still have that dream wedding.”

  Miranda shook her head. “I’ve already planned one wedding. Ours will be different.”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “We’re just going to elope. Just the two of us. Because that’s all that matters.”

  “Do people really do that?”

  “I didn’t think people really interrupted weddings. But apparently they do.”

  He put his arm around her again and pulled her close for a kiss. “Then let’s do it.”

  ***

  Two weeks later, Miranda stood under the gazebo in the rose garden at Forest Park in a white sundress, holding a bouquet of bright pink roses. They were able to squeeze in a quick ceremony at the last minute, but she was more excited than if she’d been planning it for years. In a way, she had been. She knew she wanted to be with Kevin when she was a teenager. She never imagined she’d be lucky enough to have him.

  And when the minister said, “Until death do you part?” Kevin skipped straight to the kissing part, and pulled her into his arms, brushing his lips across hers. “I do. I will. I’ll love you for however long I’m able to have you. You’re not getting away this time.” And he plucked a rose from her bouquet, twirling it between them.

  Miranda’s neck tingled. But this time it was a good feeling that sent a flush of joy straight down to her toes. “I’m not going anywhere, Kevin. Never again. We can finally weave our dreams together.”

  Wedding Auditions

  By Lisa Scott

  I followed three dozen men and women into the park, walking on my toes so my heels wouldn’t sink into the grass. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. I kept waiting for a cameraman to pop out from behind a shrub to reveal we were all on a new reality show: Stop That Bride! This was ridiculous. But Bryce Anderson had been my best bud since our swinging bar scene days—monkey bars and swing set that is—and I could hardly refuse his request to be in the wedding. And since he personally picked me up that morning with my favorite iced coffee and an unspoken threat to reveal some very embarrassing childhood photos, there was no way out of it. My only hope was bridezilla would deem me unsuitable before the day was over. You see, all of us fools would have to pass an audition to be included in the wedding party. Seriously.

  We passed a couple exchanging vows under the gazebo in the rose garden. Just the two of them. Now that’s the way to do it, I thought. But today, I was part of Weddingpalooza and I hoped I wouldn’t puke before the afternoon was over. That certainly wouldn’t look good in the pictures.

  Bryce’s fiancée, Melanie, had booked the rose garden at Forest Park and hired a photographer for the auditions. Moira Moore, of course. The best in town. “I don’t know why more people don’t do this,” Melanie said, as the group gathered in the garden. “I’m going to start a trend. Micki, you’re going to write about this on your wedding blog, right?”

  A woman next to me, who looked more amused than horrified, nodded. “You bet I am.” With a bright blue streak in her hair, I figured there was no way she’d be cast in the wedding. I’m sure that color would clash with whatever garish shade the bride chose for the lucky girls.

  Melanie blasted her bright white smile. She was a tiny blond bombshell—Pamela Anderson without the tats. There really wasn’t any question why Bryce was marrying her. One look told you the whole story. Melanie clapped her hands to get our attention. “Thank you all for joining me today as we launch the Minx-Anderson wedding plans. Woot , woot, woot!” She pumped her fist in the air, bouncing on her toes. Quite a few people joined her.

  Micki leaned over and whispered, “She’s giving the bridesmaids incredible swag bags. Everyone wants to be in this wedding just to get one.”

  I smirked. “I’m no swag hag. Like I need a body lotion set.”

  “Think Chanel. Sephora gift cards. Dolce,” Micki said. “Her family’s loaded.”

  I stopped laughing. I really liked Sephora. But I was already hating Melanie. I blew out a breath and counted to ten, but that didn’t stop the tension crawling up my spine.

  Melanie stopped bouncing and continued. “Now, as you know, the wedding is the second weekend in October, and the weather might be chilly, but I’m not ruling out sleeveless dresses, ladies. So be sure to keep those arms toned.” She smiled at us, like we were first graders and I wondered how such a small person could contain so much crazy. “Now, the wedding audition will have two phases.” She held up two fingers, tipped with long, zebra-print fingernails. “Your initial interview and photo session, and then the call back session for those who make the cut. That will happen next weekend.” She pressed a hand against the heart that was presumably hiding beneath her two enormous breasts. “You’re all very special to me and Bryce, but you know we can’t have everyone in the wedding party. We want couples who are going to look great in our photos, who are good dancers, and who bring creativity to the wedding planning team. So, good luck to you all!”

  I tried to catch Bryce’s eye, but he wouldn’t acknowledge me. However, I did notice a cute guy behind him stifling a laugh by pretending to cough. He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he winked at me.

  And I blushed! Only because I’m a total dork. I looked down at the ground while Melanie continued her spiel, announcing the first group she wanted to cross-examine. Luckily, I wasn’t in it. I tried to remember if they served alcohol anywhere in the park, when the winker approached me.

  “You seem to be the only other sane person here who knows we’re being held hostage by an insane woman.”

  “I know. Why did we agree to this?” And thank goodness I curled my hair this morning.

  Melanie was busy ushering the first group toward chairs she had set up.

  He shrugged. “Let’s get out of here for now. It’ll be hours before she calls us. And if we don’t show, the happy couple knows where to find me.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held it up.

  I stepped back and narrowed one eye. “I don’t even know you. What if you’re a serial wedding audition crasher who lures women into the woods to have your way with them?”

  “Don’t worry, I crash rehearsal dinners, not the auditions. You’re safe with me. Today at least.” He stuck out his hand. “Liam Streeter.”

  I shook his hand. “Kelly Warner.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He arched one thick, blond eyebrow. “Feeling crazy?”

  “Feeling ridiculous.”

  “Close enough. Come on, follow me.”

  ***

  “Bocce ball?” I asked, as he led me to the grassy area where people were clonking balls onto the lawn. “I don’t know how to play.”

  “Too bad. It’s the traditional game for all wedding auditions.” Liam got us a set of balls and tossed a little one onto the grass. “That’s the pallino. You want to throw your balls as close to it as you can—or try knocking my balls out of the way.”

  I chuckled. “There is definitely a joke in there that I’m not touching.”

  Liam grinned and handed me a ball. “Yeah, let’s leave my balls out of this.” While he wasn’t the typical guy I went for—tall, dark, and afraid of committing—I found myself a little breathless around Liam. He was probably only five ten, but he had a nice build, and wavy blonde hair. The kind of hair that should’ve been growing on my head, not his. He had a smooth, deep, voice that could lure an unsuspecting woman into trouble. Good thing I was always suspecting.

  After he beat me twice, we went to feed the ducks and got chased by a goose. I hadn’t had that much fun at the park since our
eighth grade field trip there. I almost forgot about the audition until Liam’s phone rang and he answered. “Yeah, yeah. She’s with me. We’ll be right there. Chill. Put it on ice. We’re coming.” He hung up, rolling his eyes.

  “The bride from hell?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “How do you know Bryce anyway?”

  “I don’t really. But he’s marrying my sister so here I am.”

  I froze, trying to remember every evil thing I’d said about Melanie in front of him, assuming he was a buddy of Bryce’s.

  He grabbed my arm. “Don’t worry. I should have clarified—stepsister. We’re not close. I hardly ever see her. And none of that insanity is lurking in these genes.”

  We hurried back to the rose garden, where Melanie stood tapping one of her platform heels. She crooked a finger at us and we slunk over, like two kids caught skipping Bio. “Liam, I told you I’m setting you up with Tory. Don’t go off with other women,” she hissed. She gave me a disgusted look and I figured I was home free. No way was she putting me in her wedding now. Heh, heh.

  Liam shrugged. “Sorry. Kelly begged me to play bocce ball. I couldn’t say no.” We were standing close enough that he jabbed me with his elbow. “She’s state champ. She had to get her fix. You should see her.”

  Melanie widened her eyes at me. “Really? Bocce’s ball’s classy, right? I wonder if we could work that into the wedding.”

  I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of croquet.”

  “No, Bocce ball’s classic. This is excellent. You never see Bocce ball at a wedding.” She was bouncing again. “Oh, I’m totally having Bocce ball during cocktail hour.”

  “State champ,” Liam said again, nodding at me.

  How sad that I was going to have to kill this man. “It was a long time ago. I barely remember anything.” I jabbed Liam back.

  Melanie waved one hand, shooing him away. “Liam, go talk to Tory while I interview Kelly. Tory just got dumped and she needs to get her confidence back.” She winked at him. “We call Tory ‘Mac and Cheese’ cause she’s easy,” she whispered. “You’re good to go.” Melanie led me to the circle of chairs where a group of women were chatting.

  I sat down, angry at easy cheesy Tory who I hadn’t even met, and wondering if letting out a big burp might get me off the hook here. A fart for sure, but that’s not something I can do on command like my brother does, lucky guy. Plus, Liam might hear, and like it or not, his opinion mattered. Fine. I was crushing on Liam. He was funny and cute, and he was the only thing making this day bearable besides my iced coffee, which was long gone.

  Melanie stood up in front of the six of us sitting in the circle. Micki was there, too, probably spending her Sephora gift card in her head.

  “Ladies, now that I know we’ve got a Bocce champ in our midst,” she gestured to me, “I’d like to talk about your talents. What can you bring to the Minx-Anderson wedding?”

  I raised my hand. “Liam was kidding about me being a Bocce champ.”

  Melanie put her hand on her hip and leveled me with a look. “Liam wouldn’t lie to me. And haven’t you heard what’s in my swag bags?”

  A cute redhead raised her hand. “I heard about the gift cards and the Victoria’s Secret stuff. Is there any jewelry in there?”

  “Can you say Micki Moto?” Melanie asked. A couple girls squealed, while she continued. “Now, as I was saying, when we conduct your personal interviews, please let me know about any talents you have not matter how small or insignificant you may think they are.”

  The redhead raised her hand again. “I can hula hoop four hoops at once. Does that count?”

  Melanie pursed her lips. “Maybe.”

  I decided to quit protesting. She wasn’t going to pick me once we got to the swimwear competition. God, I hoped there wasn’t going to be a swimwear competition.

  Melanie called for the first woman to follow her, and I leaned over to Micki. “How do you know the bride?”

  “I don’t. She reads my wedding blog—Bridesmaid Blues—and invited me to be in the wedding. I think she wanted the publicity. I wanted the bag and the blog fodder.”

  I covered my laugh.

  The redhead leaned forward. “I barely know her. Our mothers are friends. She wanted to audition a redhead, in case she decided to go with all different hair colors.” She pouted. “I have a feeling she’s going to want all brunettes, though, so she can be the only blonde.”

  I shielded my eyes from the bright sun. “I can’t imagine what’s she doing to the poor flower girl and ring bearer.”

  Micki slipped a bag of M&M’s out of her purse and tossed one in her mouth. “Oh, no. No children. Kids are too cute. They’ll draw the attention away from her.”

  “Lucky kids.”

  Melanie came back to the group and pointed her clipboard at me. “Kelly? You’re up. Follow me.”

  Rolling my eyes, I followed her to a second set of chairs where Bryce was waiting.

  Melanie patted Bryce’s head. “Oh, honey, you’re so sweet to come over here. But you don’t need to be involved. I’ve got this covered.”

  I clenched my teeth and narrowed my eyes at Bryce as I sat down. “Yeah honey, you don’t need to be involved.”

  He wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “Come on, you and I used to swap spit. I wanna make sure you make the cut.”

  Melanie sucked in a breath. “Excuse me? Swapped spit? You mean you two…” Her finger flicked back and forth between us.

  “Nooo, no, no, no,” I protested. “We shared binkies and sippy cups. Baby spit. I’ve known him long enough to know only a very special woman could handle Bryce’s industrial strength ego.” I shrugged. “Sorry. Someone needed to warn you.” Oh, I’m digging myself in good.

  Melanie sat across from us and gave me a tight smile. “So, besides the Bocce ball, do you have any other talents?”

  “I told you. I’m not the state Bocce ball champ.”

  Bryce sighed. “Why are you always so embarrassed about that? I really want you to lead our guests in a rousing game or two.”

  I looked up at the sky, like maybe my patience was floating around up there. I looked back at Melanie. “I can make an excellent soufflé and I know how to hem my pants.”

  She frowned. “Not very helpful at a wedding. Now, your dancing is very important. Are you a good dancer?”

  “She’s an incredible dancer,” Bryce said.

  “I’m good at rocking back and forth to slow songs,” I clarified.

  That earned another frown. “I’m counting on the bridal party to create a musical number to enter to the church, or something exciting at the reception that’s going to go viral on the internet. Real big, like that Thriller reception, remember that? Something Cirque de Soleil inspired, maybe? Or on roller skates? That way, when Bryce and I come back from our honeymoon, I’ll have something to look forward to when the Today show features us and our crazy wedding video. Any experience editing video?”

  “No. None at all. I really don’t think I’m well suited for your wedding.”

  Her hand flew to her chest. “Don’t you want to be in it?”

  “I just don’t want to let you and Bryce down.” I shooed away a bee and wished I could do the same with her.

  “Let’s just get you on the scale and complete the interview and photo session.”

  “Scale?”

  She nodded.

  I gripped the edge of the chair. “I wear a size eight. Isn’t that all you need to know? Weight fluctuates and varies depending on water retention and muscle mass, the thickness of my clothing….”

  But still, she led me over to a scale set up in the grass. “You are keeping this private,” I said.

  “No promises.”

  I groaned and refused to look at the number.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “You hide it well.”

  “See? You don’t want me in the wedding.”

  “Sure she does, Kelly.” It was Liam. “Besides, I
want you in the wedding.”

  I jumped off the scale, hoping he didn’t see the number, whatever it was.

  Melanie slid her pen back on her clipboard. “Liam, you’re going to be paired up with Tory.”

  “I think Kelly’s the one for me,” Liam said. “Let’s just have the two of us take a few pictures together. I think you’ll find we are an irresistible pair.”

  “You’re with Tory.” Melanie stood up. “Kelly, we’re finished with the interview. Moira Moore,” she paused, to remind me she’d snagged the area’s top photographer, “is going to photograph you with the potential groomsmen, and I’ll get back to you with the results soon.”

  Last time I’d been awaiting any kind of results, I’d been leaving the doctor’s office after taking a strep test. And I’d been in better spirits that day.

  I posed in front of a huge arch of roses with the eighteen different men vying for a spot in the Minx-Anderson debacle. A few with grabby hands, others with bad lines, and one with horrific breath. Liam was last, and forced me into several unnecessary poses: me pretending to reach for a football toss, him planking on a bench with me stepping on him, then me over his shoulder like a bag of flour.

  Liam groaned as he picked me up. “My stepsister’s right. You do hide your weight well.”

  I kicked my feet but couldn’t make contact.

  Moira laughed. “Oh, I hope she picks you two. This’ll be fun. I’m setting up a new blooper page on my website. I’m sure you’ll have lots to add.” Moira was beautiful. I was surprised Melanie was allowing her to work behind the scenes for team Minx-Anderson

  When Liam set me down, I smoothed my skirt. “For the love of God, tell me we’re done. Can we please leave?”

  Moira nodded.

  “Great. I’m going home to see if I can wash out all this spray out of my hair, and this ludicrous day from my memory.”

  “I could help you with the washing if you need.”

  I crossed my arms. “Hilarious. Will you be doing a comedy routine at the wedding for your talent?”