I took a seat at the small conference table. It was round and large enough to seat six, but it was more intimate than a long, rectangle table where you had to shout from one end to the other. We wanted our couples to feel close to us.
I took another gulp of my coffee, then checked my phone messages. Bryson hadn’t texted yet about our next date, but it was only Monday.
He probably didn’t want to seem too eager, right?
He’d been pretty eager Saturday night, though, making me promise to see him again. What if he’d changed his mind? I stared at our text stream where he’d last texted me Sunday morning.
Bryson:
Sorry I had to take off so early. Had an amazing time. Can’t wait to see you again.
Silas:
Oh, were you here? I hardly noticed.
Bryson:
Always making me work for it ;)
Maybe I’d played too hard to get. Maybe I should text him about the date so that he knew I actually wanted to go.
Or maybe I was putting way too much importance on one date. I didn’t do this. It wasn’t like me. I’d had a good time with plenty of men. Then I moved on to the next guy.
I did notpinefor them.
Granted, Bryson had been unlike any guy I’d hooked up with in years.
Because I went on adatewith him. Any guy signing up with the Matchmaking Mamas was not gonna be like a Grindr or Thrust hookup. But I hadn’t expected him to be so…compelling, either.
“Here’s the binder,” Heidi said, coming through the door.
I slapped my phone face down on the table as if it contained a big secret. Heidi glanced from me to the phone. “Everything okay?”
“Yep!”
She took the seat beside me. “I added your note about the peonies.”
They were always difficult to get out of season, and I’d warned Caitlyn we might have to come up with an alternate plan. I flipped open the binder to the florist section and highlighted a couple of replacement flowers that Maverick had recommended to me. Hopefully, Caitlyn and Branson would be okay with a substitute.
If they were willing to pay enough, we could still make it happen. I prided myself on being a wedding planner who could move heaven and earth for his brides—but Caitlyn was down to earth. I suspected she’d pick another flower and move on.
“Also, Marissa called and said they’ve got a question regarding ingredients in the main course. I included the note in?—”
“Knock-knock,” Caitlyn called from the doorway.
“Hey!” I popped up from my seat and went to hug her. “Please tell me Branson didn’t have to miss again?”
“Oh, no, he’s just grabbing some water.”
I leaned out of the doorway to catch a glimpse of themystery groom from behind. Over six feet tall, lanky but with some breadth, and a mop of curly hair not so unlike Bryson’s.
“Nicely done, Cait,” I teased.
She giggled. “I know, right? He’s going to lookamazingin a tux. He lives in jeans and T-shirts and flannels.”
“Someone wants some suit porn,” Heidi said behind us.
Caitlyn shushed her with a laugh, and we returned to the conference room to take our seats and look like well-behaved adults to the groom.
