Staying For Good
Page 66

Jo glanced out to the yard below. “Looks like people are starting to arrive.”
“Do you see Wyatt?” Mel asked, several feet from the window.
“Nope.”
“He’s here, don’t worry.”
Mel placed a hand to her stomach. “Oh, God.”
“Finally nervous?”
Mel shook her head. “I think we forgot to eat.”
Luke straightened Wyatt’s tie. “You know, you clean up pretty good, Gibson.”
Wyatt slapped the side of Luke’s arm and winked. “Not too bad yourself, Miller.”
Luke glanced at his watch. “Now what do we do for thirty minutes?”
Wyatt pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves. “I say we sneak a few shrimp thingies before everyone eats them all.”
“I like the way you think.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Luke always thought it would be him standing in the number one spot and Zoe in white.
His heart kicked so hard when she rounded the corner and walked down the aisle he thought he might pass out.
Zoe Brown dominated the space she carried herself through. Her dark hair was piled high, the bodice of the gown dipped just enough to be classily sexy.
She smiled at familiar faces as she took her time walking up and rolled her eyes at Felix, who dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
Then she looked at him and her smile turned radiant.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he knew they were on the same page.
It was Jo’s turn in the spotlight, and Luke had to admit . . . the town sheriff cleaned up really well. Is that cleavage? He’d never noticed Jo having a rack.
Many of the people in the crowd lived in River Bend, and he was fairly certain they were all muttering the same thing.
Holy, shit . . . that’s Sheriff Ward.
Obviously Wyatt wasn’t looking at the bridesmaids. He leaned in and whispered, “You have the ring, right?”
Luke let his smile drop and his eyes grow wide.
He knew he gave his friend a tiny heart attack before he winked with a smile.
“Fuck you, Miller,” he whispered.
Mark, who stood beside Luke, chuckled under his breath.
“Not my type, Gibson.” And Luke’s gaze once again landed on Zoe. Her profile, her beauty, her poise. He wanted to call her his . . . like really call her his.
Hope was next, tossing rose petals as she walked a little too fast in front of her mom.
Once Hope made it to the podium, she walked right up to Wyatt.
He leaned down to hear her words.
“I do, too.”
There were plenty of ahs and ohs before the music changed and everyone stood.
When Mel turned the corner, she received the reaction she deserved.
She was beautiful, and blushing, and smiled all the way to Wyatt’s side.
Pictures took well over an hour. While Zoe enjoyed the fun and banter of the moment, she couldn’t help but wonder how everything with the food was going.
Wyatt had recruited several of the track kids to don black pants and white shirts to serve.
Felix had taken the liberty of directing a cameraman to ensure a proper wedding video as his gift to the bride and groom.
“This is lovely, Zoe. Exactly the kind of thing that isn’t being done on any of the culinary shows.”
“There is more to a wedding than food.”
Felix pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Say that to them.”
The them he spoke of were the wedding guests destroying the appetizers.
She’d sampled them herself and knew Ernie and Tiffany had brought their A game. She made a mental note to pay it forward when life settled down.
Thinking of calm had her doing another scan of the guests mingling outside of the tent.
She was the only Brown in attendance.
It pained her at the same time it relieved her. The last thing any of them needed was pushy brothers or ex-con fathers. Her job on this day was to shelter Mel from anything ugly and make sure the food was something River Bend would talk about for years.
Since the maid of honor had a sidearm strapped to her thigh, Zoe figured Jo had Mel taken care of.
Luke snuck up beside her, placed an arm around her waist. “It’s killing you, isn’t it?”
“What?” She glanced over his shoulder at the catering tent.
“C’mon. They don’t need us here any longer.” Luke pulled her away from the photographer and toward the reception tent.
Zoe felt her pulse returning to normal the closer she got.
She was vaguely aware that Felix followed and snapped his fingers in the air. At what, she wasn’t sure. Her focus was linear.
Check the food.
Was it hot?
Did the cream sauce survive the drive over?
Did they need Miss Gina’s kitchen for more than a working sink?
She buzzed around the servers and behind the serving station.
The cream sauce survived . . . it wasn’t hot enough outside to wilt the lettuce for the salads.
She sampled everything. When she reached the Italian dressing, she found a problem.
“Tiffany?”
With a wave of a hand, Tiffany was by her side.
“What’s it missing?”
They used a tiny, straw-like siphon for Tiffany to sample.
She tasted it twice . . . “Oregano.”
“Exactly!” Zoe waved Tiffany to follow over.
In high heels that had no place traipsing around a yard, Zoe led Tiffany to a garden on the side of Miss Gina’s inn.
She pointed. “Do what you can with what we have. Better to run out of something fabulous than serve something forgettable.”