“In the whole state!” Lula added, stroking my ego.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
“I needed a push back then, so…thanks. But I’m good now.”
“Are you?” Lula said tentatively. “Because it looks to me like you’re still afraid of meeting someone special again.”
I scoffed. “I’m notafraid.I’m just happy with how things are.”
“Are you?” Lula pushed. “Or are you still just nursing old wounds?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I needed to talk to the DJ and get that ice. I didn’t have time to convince my aunt I was no longer grieving over a man not worth my time.
Sure, it had hurt when Michael jilted me at the altar in front of all our friends and family in Pasadena.
He had destroyed my life plan in two little words. Instead of I do, he’d stuttered out “I can’t,” and fled the premises, leaving me with the mess.
My spectacular wedding—planned meticulously for months—became a scandal.
Not only had I lost my fiancé, but my position at the most elite wedding planning service. Brides tended to get superstitious, and no one wanted to work with a guy who couldn’t even pull off his own ceremony.
Lula was here, in the middle of bumfuck Nebraska, and it had seemed like the perfect escape when I needed to run.
I’d landed on her couch, wallowed for three weeks, and then finally gotten my ass back in the game when she introduced me to the owner of Veils & Vows.
I almost gave up wedding planning, but I was damn good at it, and after everything Michael took that day, I wasn’t about to give him my career, too.
But I wasn’t the idealistic, romantic, naïve wedding planner who’d had his trust shattered five years ago.
I’d realized I’d dodged a bullet. Had wemarried, Michael would have divorced me later. I saw it with far too many of my couples. They were glowing and happy—just like Jenn and Wendall—and two or five or ten years later, they wanted to tear out each other’s throats.
Oh, not all of them. Some couples stuck it out for good. But that was like playing the lottery. The odds were not stacked in anyone’s favor.
I chose not to buy a ticket. If I didn’t play, I couldn’t lose.
But I couldn’t explain that to Iola and Lula, two women so committed to love that they were trying to match up the whole dang town.
“I’m really fine,” I told Lula. “But I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Prove it,” Iola said. “One match. What could it hurt?”
I hesitated, but I could see Marissa watching me anxiously. Time was of the essence and I couldn’t spoil Jenn’s special day because I let two old ladies waylay me for too long.
I didn’t have time to argue.
“Please, Silas,” Lula chimed in. “We just want to see you giving happiness a chance again.”
I groaned. “I’m happy when you let me do my job!”
“Your job can’t keep you warm at night,” Iola said tartly.
“I’ve got plenty of men for that,” I shot back. “I’m single, not celibate.”
Lula swatted my arm. “Be civil, young man.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“If you’re really not afraid, what’s the harm in a little matchmaking?” Iola persisted.
