“At what point do they become like her in their vindication?” I whisper back.
“Pretty sure they crossed that line when they printed programs with your name instead of hers. My name, sure, that was recent, but those could have been approved long ago.”
“But my name should never have been on there,” I agree.
“Please welcome me in presenting Mr. and Mrs. Andrews.”
We stand and clap, watching Kenzie struggle against tears of humiliation as they walk down the aisle. I regret coming. When Alex and Tracy stroll past, they smirk at me, but I scowl and shake my head. Their smiles fade, and they hurry away.
“I think they know they’re in trouble with Mom,” Ford mutters.
“They went too far. Things that are fixable but inconvenient are one thing, but this is just cruel.”
“I love you for caring when you have every right to say she deserves this.”
Kenzie deserves a lot of things, but not this on her wedding day. It reminds me that I shouldn’t meddle in karma’s timing. It will return to haunt Tracy and Alex hard enough.
I consider telling Ford we shouldn’t go to the reception. I’m scared to think about what other surprises await. We’ve already been seen, and I don’t want anyone thinking I played a part in this.
Chapter 45
Ford
Iguide Harper into the reception area, my hand resting gently on the small of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the silky material of her dress. Being close to her sends electricity through my fingertips. Whether I’m holding her delicate hand with its rose-painted nails, wrapping my arm around her shoulders where her perfume lingers strongest, or touching that sensitive spot on her back that makes her lean into me, I feel like the luckiest man in the world.
As I glance around, I understand why Harper dreamed of a Christmas Eve wedding. The decorations transform the ordinary ballroom into a winter wonderland with crystal icicles dangling from the ceiling, garlands of pine and holly woven with tiny white lights encircling every column, and centerpieces of red roses nestled in beds of frosted pine cones. Clearly, Alex and Tracy had nothing to do with this elegant display.
I’m determined to give Harper the wedding she envisions. Wherever she wants it: a rustic barn or five-star hotel. Twinkling fairy lights strung across a starlit sky, soft snowflakes drifting through the air as she walks down the aisle, and if the weather betrays us, I’ll rent the most expensive snow machine on the market. She deserves everything she’s ever whispered about in the dark when we talk about our future together.
“I think this is a good spot,” Harper says, selecting a place well away from the head table.
“What do you think they’re serving?”
She smiles brightly. “Well, I had chosen roast beef with steamed vegetables, so there’s a good chance Kenzie swiped that, too. It’s delicious! The tastings are the highlight of wedding planning.”
“Noted.”
“You’re a fun date, you know that?”
“Just wait until later. I plan to be very fun.”
A delightful blush spreads across her cheeks at my teasing, and I wonder if I can persuade her to sneak into the coatroom with me again. Honestly, I’ve never enjoyed a wedding more than Gina’s.
Murmurs begin to ripple through the crowd, and Harper leans against me with a groan. “I think they’ve struck again.”
“What is that smell?” I ask, scanning the room. “It smells like…”
“Bad fish.”
Servers bring out the dishes, and Kenzie sobs into her hands at the head table. Asher looks on in horror, while Harper covers her nose and turns her face into my chest.
“Is that… Lutefisk?” I mutter.
“It’s not bad once you get past the smell,” calls someone from a nearby table.
Harper stands abruptly. “I need some air.”
“Me, too.”
