Page 32 of With All My Heart, Joy

Joy couldn’t stop looking at Mr. Miller as the minister spoke about marriage and God’s ideals for love. How was a man that good in every way not married?

Her eyes met his again, and this time a subtle smile curled his lips a fraction. It was the eyes that crinkled at the sides that got her, though. Victor’s eyes did that.

She shifted to scan the small audience that filled the first five rows of her church. How could Victor miss their sister’s wedding? When she texted him last night and asked what time he was coming, he said he’d do his best to be there. She called to ask what he meant, and her call went to voicemail. Her parents said they were unable to reach him, too. Lansing wasn’t so far away that Victor couldn’t make the trip whenever he pleased. Something was wrong, and it was worrying Joy sick.

Victor was missing a gorgeous wedding. Thanks to Silas’s wallet, Lucy had secured the best wedding planner in Silver Lake City. At such late notice, that was practically a miracle. But the outcome was also miraculous. It felt like a Christmas wonderland, with frosted trees and faux snow and dazzling blue and silver balls and ornaments of various sizes and shapes hanging at all angles.

It was perfectly Lucy with just enough Silas.

Joy watched the ring exchange with a tempered smile. Lucy’s hand shook when Silas slid the ring over her finger. So did his.

“With the power vested in me by the State of Michigan, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister said.

Her sister was a beautiful woman, but Joy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Lucy this radiant. Her dress was jaw-dropping. The skirt was ivory silk, falling in a straight cut that flared near the floor. The long-sleeve top was all lace, overlaying a modest shell. Half of her back was exposed through sheer material, and a long veil studded with tiny diamonds completed the look.

Joy stifled a snort. Such a millionaire’s wife.

“You may now kiss your bride,” the minister stated, and Silas, his face as serious and intent as ever, pulled Lucy in by the waist and planted a kiss on her lips that made Joy want to blush. Lucy’s cheeks were full of color when they parted, her chest heaving up and down. She turned to Joy for her bouquet of white and blue-dyed roses, then faced the audience.

“May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Silas McIntyre?” The family in the pews broke into hearty applause as the newlyweds swept down the aisle, and then Joy stepped forward at the same time as Mr. Miller. They paused at the top of the platform, then descended in step, not saying a word as they made their way to the church foyer. Joy’s heart was thumping, her mouth strangely dry. When she turned to offer a nervous smile to her counselor, he was already gone, offering his congratulations to Lucy and Silas.

“Hey, kid, you look great.” It was TJ pulling her into his arms, and Joy gave her brother a hug.

“Thanks. Ready for your own wedding?”

His eyes took on a tortured look. “I wish I could marry Melodytoday.”

She whacked his arm. “Okay, Casanova. Let her recover from her play. You’ll have your day in a few weeks.” Melody’s production the past weekend had gone over marvelously.

“I know, I know.” TJ pulled Melody into their little sphere. “But you gotta admit, a wedding like this puts romance on the mind, doesn’t it?” While he nuzzled his nose against Melody’s temple, Joy darted her gaze away—and found Mr. Miller watching her. She offered a tight-lipped smile and turned back to her brother. Only it was a different brother in his place.

“Ben.”

“You look beautiful, Joy.” He sounded genuine enough, but Joy’s defenses began to rise nonetheless. She’d been on her guard around Ben since she was six years old. The habit only seemed to grow stronger with time.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, giving an awkward close-range wave to Charity who held Azalea’s hand. When had the tiny tot taken her first steps? She wanted to ask, but her problem with Ben also held her at a distance from his wife. “Good to see you guys.” She turned on her five-inch heel. After hugging Lucy and Silas, she was standing by the door when a voice spoke close by.

“Ben looks like he’s trying to restore your relationship.” Mr. Miller leaned casually against the wall beside her. His suit coat was unbuttoned, revealing a fitted ivory dress shirt tucked into his tuxedo pants. His waistline was slender, his chest broad under the shirt. A spicy, manly scent surrounded him, subtle but satisfying.

Something about seeing him here made Joy want to call him by his first name, not his last. She’d never spoken to him outside of the counseling office before. It was weird to be in a social setting with him knowing so very much about her and her family—but oddly relieving.

“I know he is,” she sighed. “I’m the one pushing him away.”

“Why do you think that is?” He gazed intently at her face, and Joy felt a flutter in her belly, just like she had in his office a few days ago. Was he asking as her counselor? Or as something…more?

“Because once I confront him, I have to deal with the issue with my whole family,” she said quietly, ensuring her words were for Isaac only. “I don’t want to hear them admit I wasn’t planned. Sometimes it’s just easier to hide from the truth.”

A grunt of agreement sounded low in his throat beside her, and he said nothing else. They just stood there, side by side. Joy glanced sideways at him. She was the shortest in her family at five-four. In her high heels, she stood maybe two or three inches below Isaac. They had a nice height ratio, with or without her shoes.

Warmth and awareness prickled along her neck. Their height comparison shouldn’t matter to her. The fact that it did stole her breath in a strangely wonderful way.

“It’s December now,” she said, her tone teasing. “Have you put up your Christmas decorations yet?”

Isaac sighed as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders—or at least, the weight of all ten-year-old females in the same sphere. “Not yet. My daughter is not happy with me.”

Joytsskedand shook her head. “Shame on you, Mr. Miller.” When had calling him Mr. Miller begun to feel overly stiff and formal? Isaac was such a personable name.

As Isaac laughed with her at his expense, Joy realized she knew no one else with whom she felt as safe and comfortable as she did with Isaac Miller.

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