“Thank you.” His voice sounded choked. He drew back, making eye contact. “You don’t know what that means to me. There’s one other thing... We haven’t talked about the bestman speech yet. I can have Troy do the toast if you’d rather. He’s already offered.”
Sam regarded his cousin closely. Saw the boy he used to go fishing with and the man who owned up to his mistakes. “Thanks, but... I’d like to do the honors tonight, if that’s all right with you.”
Twenty-Nine
Will your hero and heroine fall in love instantly, over the course of years, or somewhere in between? The choice is yours.
—Romance Writing 101
On the boardwalk Sadie kicked off her sandals alongside the other shoes and took the arm of a handsome teenager. He escorted her down the sandy aisle to a white wooden chair on the right-hand side.
In the distance the sun sank toward the horizon, cooling the air and streaking the sky with striking shades of pink and purple. It was a beautiful evening for a wedding.
The rows of chairs ended at a canopy, its corners draped with chiffon and dripping with wisteria. To the left of the structure, a woman in a beautiful blue gown tickled the strings of a violin. In the chairs ahead Sadie spotted people she’d met over the past twenty-four hours, though most of them were in the wedding party.
She scratched her bare shoulder and soon felt the sting ofsunburn. She’d relaxed by the pool most of the day, book in hand. Afterward she took Rio for a long walk on the shore and treated herself to an umbrella drink from a busy beachside bar. When she returned to the resort, she had a snack to tide her over till dinner, then began getting ready for the wedding.
She took her time with her makeup, curled her hair, swept the sides back and secured them with a tortoiseshell barrette. Her cerulean-blue halter-style dress clung to her waist and flared about her knees in cascading ruffles. The dress was meant for the dance floor, which was perfect because she couldn’t wait to get her groove on.
The preacher appeared, taking his spot under the center of the canopy. The thirtysomething man wore sideswept bangs, black-rimmed glasses, and a congenial smile.
Sadie thought she might see Sam in passing today, but she hadn’t. He checked on her via text a couple of times while he was busy with best-man obligations. She thought of the wedding party swap. Why hadn’t Tag moved someone else forward in the lineup? After all, Sam hadn’t even been in the party.
Before she could follow the thought, a rustle off to the side alerted her to the groomsmen’s arrival. Sam led the way, gorgeous in that black tux, beard trimmed neatly, dark hair fluttering in the breeze. The well-fitted suit made the most of his broad shoulders and trim waist.
When he neared her seat he glanced her way, and his lips tipped up at the corners just before he was eclipsed by the setting sun.
Sadie’s breath caught. She resisted—barely—the urge to cover her heart, which was ready to burst from her body. She couldn’t take her eyes off Sam as he strode to the front and took his place on the canopy’s right side.
Tunnel vision erased everyone and everything except his beautiful face. She couldn’t seem to get control of herself.
A weird fluttering stirred in her stomach. She felt as though her body had just released, in one glorious dose, all the endorphins from every mile she’d ever jogged.
Perhaps the hormones permeated her mind as well, because it spun with a thousand thoughts, none of which made a wit of sense. Her heart swelled right along with the moving melody. The visceral sensations overtaking her body were...
Wonderful.
Overwhelming.
Exhilarating.
Hopeful.
Terrifying.
And brand new. She’d never felt this way before. Not even close. But if that was true...
Then how could she know with such certainty that this was exactly the way it felt to fall in love?
***
The wedding guests gathered later behind the beachside cottage under a starry canopy. Sam sat at the head table, which perched on the deck along with the open bar and soundboard.
On one side of the backyard, wedding guests clustered at tables, eating, drinking, and socializing, and on the other side stood a makeshift dance floor, waiting for its moment.
Sam carried on a conversation with Tag and Amanda beneath the twinkle lights that sparkled over the tables.
As a melody ended the DJ spoke into the microphone. “Allright, everybody, it’s now time for the toasts. Please turn your attention right over here to the best man—Sam Ford, cousin of the groom.” He gestured toward the head table. “Sam, take it away.”
