Page 80 of Aisle Be The Groom
“Carter gave me access to your wedding Dropbox. Why? Is there a problem? Because it seems as if you had finalized the designs.”
Of course he did.
“No, they were done.”
“Good. Did you settle on a venue? I suppose it’ll have to be held at the Old Grange Hall—”
“Actually, it’ll be right here on the ranch. We can have an outdoor wedding—”
“And if it rains?”
I took a sip of coffee as though contemplating it when I already had it all figured out while I still thought I had a wedding to plan. “If the weather doesn’t allow for an outdoor wedding, we can move into the barn. It’ll be rustic and charming.”
“And I can’t get you to change your mind? The Old Grange Hall would be a more central location.”
“No, ma’am. The ranch it is.”
She looked as if she was about to argue the venue to death. Normally, I would back down and accept whatever she said for her to like me and please Carter, but no more. Funnily enough, it took planning a fake wedding to show I wasn’t a pushover.
If I was going to fake a wedding, it could at least be on my terms.
26
OZZIE
Ihad nothing against flowers. In fact, I loved having freshly cut flowers in my home, but after an hour, I was ready to run out into the street and get trampled on by a horse. My soon-to-be ex-future mother-in-law hemmed and hawed, flipping back to the beginning of the folder Cameron, the florist, had given us earlier.
“Wouldn’t roses be too traditional?” She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail against the page. The poor florist tried to smile, but his lips twitched from the strain. I didn’t blame him. Emma was the one who had chosen roses to begin with.
“Perhaps dahlias?” She skipped to another page, but after a moment of pondering, she shook her head. “No, they give off an air of… I don’t know, melancholy?”
I sighed as discreetly as possible and glanced at the clock on the wall. The minutes ticked by as steadily as my sanity dwindled. Wedding planning was supposed to be fun, but apparently, it sucked when you were stuck doing it with your fiancé’s mother and when you had no plans to get married in the first place.
“I have a suggestion.” Cameron opened one of his catalogs and pointed at a picture of quaint little flowers with a touch of rustic charm. “How about anemones? They are unique and elegant.”
And beautiful.
The soon-to-be ex-mother-in-law took one look at the proposed flowers and frowned deeply. “No, those won’t do. They won’t match the napkins at all. And we cannot have that now, can we?”
Cameron looked like he was about to pass out. Then color rushed into his face. The poor guy. He’d been so pleasant, considering he’d hastily put together samples for us at Emma’s request.
“Maybe we should take a break,” I said.
“Take a break? Your wedding is in two weeks!”
“This would go a lot faster if you respected my choices,” I said quietly. “I agreed with Cameron on the wildflowers in mason jars as centerpieces. They would go well together with the rustic atmosphere of the ranch. Then we’d use the wildflower sprig for the boutonniere and have bouquets of the same for the bridesmaids. It fits our theme, our location, and most importantly, it’s what I want.”
A stunned silence ensued in which Emma looked at me openmouthed. I had never talked back to her. She was used to getting her way. Cameron’s eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat.
“Yes, that could definitely work.”
Emma let out a sigh. “At least you’ve made a decision, even if I’m not convinced it’s the best one. Now we need to—”
The bell above the door rang. Gray entered the shop in clean jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a blue T-shirt. He must have stopped at the house to shower and change before he came to find us. I fought against my instinct to run to him.
Please get your mean wife away from me.
“There you are.” He smiled warmly at me, then shifted his gaze toward Emma. “Are you not finished with the flower-shopping yet?”
