Page 18 of One-Star Romance

“Clearly not.”

“Okay. I can try talking to him.”

“Good, I think that will make Gabby feel better.”

He paused. “Wait. Did she ask you to stop him?”

“Well, not exactly.”

He gave her a sharp look. “So, it’s merely your personal opinion that my friend shouldn’t be allowed to do what he wants at his own wedding?”

“Come on. I hardly think I’m the only person here who knows that this is a terrible idea.”

“Last I checked, the maid of honor does not get to overrule the groom.”

“Oh, is that in the official wedding bylaws?”

“It’s common sense.”

She threw her hands up in the air, her patience running out. “Fine! Obviously, there’s no reasoning with you. But let the record show that if this all blows up and Gabby has no choice but to become a runaway bride, I tried to stop it.”

She turned on her heel and went back to the bridal suite. And then it was a stress-filled whirl: Final touch-ups. Zipping Gabby into her dress. Taking photographs where they got down on the ground and fluffed Gabby’s enormous skirt while looking up at her like ladies-in-waiting. Natalie and Gabby running to the bathroom, where Natalie held up said enormous skirt so that Gabby could pee. Walking over to the entryway where the bridal party was assembling for the procession. (They’d walk outside and into the garden, then Angus would do his horrible zip line from a different location, and finally Gabby’s father would escort her to the altar.)

Gabby had tucked Kleenex under her armpits to catch the sweat—a combination of anxiety and heat. She was taking deep breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth, as if following some instructional meditation video only she could see. She paused in the middle of a breath. “Shit, my bouquet!”

“Back inside?” Nat asked. Gabby gave a frantic nod. “On it.”

Natalie took off, nearly colliding with Rob as he exited the dining room. Running late to the processional lineup, adding even more stress to Gabby’s heavy load!

She spotted the bouquet on a nearby table and grabbed it, registering as her hand closed around the stems that for the first time in a long while, she felt pleasantly cool. “Hallelujah,” she said, turning to one of the inn’s staff. “You guys got the AC working again? Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me,” the woman said. “Thank the tall guy in the bridal party. You know, the one who’s handsome in a sort of scowling way?”

“He found a repairman?”

“No, I guess he watched a video about common problems with this particular unit and figured it out. The hero of the day, huh?”

Nat stood there with her mouth open. Her mind was blank. A stretch of barren sand. One tumbleweed blowing across the great expanse, carried by wind that whistled, Rob saved the day.

Then she remembered that a wedding was waiting on her to begin, and she ran back, bouquet clutched tightly in hand.

Nat pressed the flowers into Gabby’s hands, then found her own spot in line next to Rob. Was that a small smirk at the corner of his mouth?

“Link arms, everyone!” the wedding planner called.

Reluctantly, Nat lifted her arm up to thread it through Rob’s right as he lifted his own, and the strange angle caused their hands to momentarily collide. His hand was hot. Their bare skin touching was a shock to her system. She snatched her hand away, unable to stop herself from looking at him. A flash of something crossed his face, then he turned his head straight ahead, his jaw set. He cleared his throat, glued his arm to his side, and crooked his elbow an inch. “Here.”

They stood still, arms entangled, for an uncomfortably long time as the pairs ahead of them slowly processed. Nat cursed the event planner who had told them to link up so early. The pressure of his arm on hers made her feel slightly off-balance. Her attraction to him was an inconvenient fact. But as of this moment, she was no longer interested in trying to impress men who thought she was beneath them. Her own worth did not depend on whether she could make an asshole like her. There were far better ways to use her time.

“I hear you saved the day with the air-conditioning,” she said, her sweet tone turning acidic despite her best efforts.

“Just wanted to make myself useful,” he said stiffly. She detested him.

Finally, the coordinator gave them the nod to go ahead. Natalie plastered a smile onto her face and began to walk.

Immediately, the problem presented itself: Rob’s legs were much longer than hers, meaning that each stride he took required her to take two. So while he walked at a normal pace for himself, she had to practically skip down the aisle. She jabbed her elbow into his side. “Slow down,” she said out of the corner of her mouth, her smile still wide. His arm tightened, an involuntary flex, as he slowed. His bicep was rangy, not ostentatious but firm. She wasn’t trying to feel it. Her hand just fell naturally on that part of his arm.

Now, Nat walked at a normal speed. But next to her, Rob was stuck in a strange sort of slow motion, taking his normal-sized step, then pausing a beat before moving again. “Can’t you speed up?” he whispered, voice tight.

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