Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber

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      “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered. She felt his smile against her flushed skin and realized she hadn’t fooled him any more than she had herself. “I don’t know what I am.”

      “I don’t know, either. Somehow I wonder if I ever will. I don’t suppose you’d make this process a lot easier and consider just having an affair with me?”

      Savannah stiffened, not knowing if he meant what he was saying. “Absolutely not.”

      “That’s what I thought,” he said with a lengthy sigh. “It’s going to be the whole nine yards with you, isn’t it?”

      “I have no idea what you mean,” she insisted.

      “Perhaps not.” Pulling away, he checked his watch and seemed surprised at the time. “I’ve got to get back to the office. I’ll give Susan a call this afternoon and the three of us can get together and make the necessary arrangements.”

      Savannah nodded. “We’re going to have to move quickly. Planning a wedding takes time.”

      “I know.”

      She smiled shyly, wanting him to know how pleased she was by his change of heart. “This is very sweet of you, Nash.”

      He gestured weakly with his hands, as if he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. “I still think she’s too young to be married. I can’t help thinking she’ll regret this someday.”

      “Marriage doesn’t come with guarantees at any age,” Savannah felt obliged to tell him. “But then, neither does life. Susan and Kurt have an advantage you seem to be overlooking.”

      “What’s that?”

      “They’re in love.”

      “Love.” Nash snickered loudly. “Generally it doesn’t last more than two or three weeks.”

      “Sometimes that’s true, but not this time,” Savannah said. “However, I’ve worked with hundreds of couples over the years and I get a real sense about the people who come to me. I can usually tell if their marriages will last or not.”

      “What about Kurt and Susan?”

      “I believe they’ll have a long, happy life together.”

      Nash rubbed the side of his face, his eyes intense. He obviously didn’t believe that.

      “Their love is strong,” she said, trying to bolster her argument.

      Nash raised his eyebrows. “Spoken like a true romantic.”

      “I’m hoping the skeptic in you will listen.”

      “I’m trying.”

      Savannah could see the truth in that. He was trying, for Susan’s sake and perhaps hers. He’d come a long way from where he was when they’d first met. But he had a lot farther to go.

      Nash had no idea weddings could be so demanding, so expensive or so time-consuming. The one advantage of all this commotion and bother was all the hours he was able to spend with Savannah. As the weeks progressed, Nash came to know Savannah Charles, the businesswoman, as well as he did the lovely, talented woman who’d attracted him from the beginning. He had to admit she knew her stuff. He doubted anyone else could have arranged so large and lavish a wedding on such short notice. It was only because she had long-standing relationships with those involved—the florists, photographers, printers, hotel managers and so on—that Nash was able to give Susan an elaborate wedding.

      As the days passed, Nash lost count of how often he asked Savannah out to dinner, a movie, a baseball game. She found a plausible excuse each and every time. A less determined man would have grown discouraged and given up.

      But no more, he mused, looking out his office window. As far as she was concerned, he held the trump card in the palm of his hand. Savannah had consented to attend Susan’s wedding with him, and there was no way he was letting her out of the agreement.

      He sat at his desk thinking about this final meeting scheduled for later that afternoon. He’d been looking forward to it all week. Susan’s wedding was taking place Saturday evening, and Savannah had flat run out of excuses.

      Nash arrived at the shop before his sister. He was grateful for these few moments alone with Savannah.

      “Hello, Nash.” Her face lit up with a ready smile when he walked into the shop. She was more relaxed with him now. She stood behind a silver punch bowl, decorating the perimeter with a strand of silk gardenias.

      Her knack for making something ordinary strikingly beautiful was a rare gift. In some ways she’d done that with his life these past few weeks, giving him something to anticipate when he got out of bed every morning. She’d challenged him, goaded him, irritated and bemused him. It took quite a woman to have such a powerful effect.

      “Susan’s going to be a few minutes late,” Nash told her. “I was hoping she’d changed her mind and decided to call off the whole thing.” He’d hoped nothing of the sort, but enjoyed getting a reaction out of Savannah.

      “Give it up. Susan’s going to be a beautiful bride.”

      “Who’s going to be working the wedding?” he asked, advancing toward her.

      “I am, of course. Together with Nancy. You met her last week.”

      He nodded, remembering the pleasant, competent young woman who’d come to one of their meetings. Savannah often contracted her to help out at larger events.

      “Since Nancy’s going to be there, you can attend as my date and leave the work to her.”

      “Nash, will you please listen to reason? I can’t be your date.… I know it’s short notice but there are plenty of women who’d enjoy—”

      “We have an agreement,” he reminded her.

      “I realize that, but—”

      “I won’t take no for an answer, Savannah, not this time.”

      She stiffened. Nash had witnessed this particular reaction on numerous occasions. Whenever he asked her out, her pride exploded into full bloom. Nash was well acquainted with how deeply entrenched that pride was.

      “Nash, please.”

      He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. His mouth grazed her fingertips. “Not this time,” he repeated. “I’ll pick you up just before we meet to have the pictures taken.”

      “Nash…”

      “Be ready, Savannah, because I swear I’ll drag you there in your nightgown if I have to.”

      Savannah was in no mood for company, nor was she keen on talking to her mother when Joyce phoned that same evening. She’d done everything she could to persuade Nash to change his plans. But he insisted she be his date for Susan’s wedding. Indeed, he’d blackmailed her into agreeing to it.

      “I haven’t heard from you in ages,” her mother said.

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