Page 77 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

“It is,” she says, grinning as she descends the ladder with surprising grace. “But it's gotten me through a hundred weddings, so I trust it.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Just don’t break down on me. I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.”

Brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, I reach out and help her down the last rung. The way her fingers brush against mine sends a jolt through me, a reminder of the spark that ignited earlier.

We stand in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.

“June and Damon seem really happy, don't they?” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“They do,” Emma says, a soft smile gracing her lips. “They're absolutely perfect for each other. I want to give them the best wedding this town has ever seen.”

The passion in her voice resonates with me. It isn't just about the decorations or the perfect cake. It's about creating a celebration of love, of creating a memory that will last a lifetime.

“So how did you get into wedding planning, anyway?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Her smile widens. “It's kind of a funny story,” she begins, settling down on a nearby hay bale. “Ever since I was a little girl, I used to dream about weddings. Big, beautiful, fairytale kind of weddings. I even had a whole notebook filled with sketches of wedding dresses and centerpieces.”

“A wedding planner's dream journal,” I tease.

She laughs. “Exactly! But back then, I thought it was about having the perfect wedding for myself. Then I realized,” she continues, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone, “that most people don't have the time or the creativity to plan their dream wedding. And that's where I come in. I get to help people create their perfect day, to turn their dreams into reality.”

Her enthusiasm is infectious. As she talks about her work, about the different couples she's met, the challenges she's faced, I find myself captivated. Here is a woman who is passionate about what she does, who pours her heart and soul into creating a beautiful experience for others.

The setting sun has dipped below the horizon by now, casting the orchard in an ethereal twilight. The fairy lights we've hung twinkle like a million tiny stars, casting a soft, romantic glow.

“You know,” I say, my voice softer than intended, “you're incredible, Emma. You put so much thought and effort into everything you do. It's truly inspiring.”

Her cheeks flush a delicate pink. “Thank you, Liam,” she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper.

We sit there in comfortable silence for a moment longer, the air around us crackling with unspoken emotions.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, I lean closer, the space between us shrinking with each passing second. Her eyes meet mine, a question swirling within their depths.

The tension between us is palpable, and before I know it, we’re leaning in. Our lips touch, and I pull in her full bottom lip between my teeth. She laughs against my mouth, and I dig in deeper, probing her soft lips with my tongue. I can taste the faint hint of the coffee we shared earlier. My hand finds its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Her hands bury themselves in the nape of my neck, and she leans back, pulling me with her as she lowers toward the ground.

My phone suddenly rings, shattering the stillness. I pull back reluctantly and glance at the screen. It’s my mom.

“I have to take this,” I say, my voice a little hoarse.

Emma nods, giving me a bright smile. “Go ahead. I’ll get back to work.”

The night air is cool as I step away from the string of fairy lights Emma and I just finished hanging. I take a deep breath and answer, hoping to keep the conversation brief.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, trying to sound upbeat.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she replies, her voice warm and familiar. “How’s everything going? You’ve been awfully quiet lately.”

“Just busy, you know. Working at the hospital and helping out with Damon’s wedding.”

There’s a pause, and I can almost see her raising an eyebrow on the other end of the line. “Busy, huh? Or maybe you’ve found yourself a girl in that little backwater town your dad lives in?”

I glance over at Emma, who’s back on the ladder, meticulously adjusting a string of lights. She catches my eye and waves. I wave back, feeling a rush of warmth. “That’s not why, Mom. Really, it’s just work and wedding stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly unconvinced. “So, it’s true then? You’re seeing someone?”

I hesitate for a moment, then nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, I’m dating someone.”

“Oh, really? Did your dad set you up with her?”

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