Page 40 of The Runaway Bride's Vow

Clara’s gaze met hers. “Thank you. You do too.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got this.”

As the music started to play, Clara’s eyes widened. “My flowers! Where are they? We forgot them.”

Selena stepped up to the bride with the stunning peony arrangement in hand. “Here you go.”

Clara sighed. “Thank you.” She took the bouquet. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

The room went up in laughter. Talk about your understatement. But the one thing Clara was not unsure about was pledging her future to Andrew. It gave Brooke hope that someday she would be that certain on her wedding day.

Her thoughts drifted to Logan. She loved him. She loved him so much. It was something she’d never felt before. She wondered if theirs would be a love story that endured the years. She hoped so.

“It’s time,” Selena said. “Everyone line up.”

All six of them stood in the order they’d been put in at rehearsal the night before. The door opened, and one by one they walked down the aisle.

Brooke made her way down the aisle in a blushing pink full-length gown. The chiffon dress had shoulder straps, a plunging neckline and a V-line back. Instead of it being form-fitting, the skirt was loose and free-flowing. It was like it had been made just for her.

Her gaze met Logan’s as he sat at the end of a bench in his dark suit sans the tie. He wasn’t a tie-guy, or so he said. It didn’t matter to her. He looked just as sexy with the top buttons of his white dress shirt undone. Her heart pitter-pattered every time she looked at him.

As she passed by him, she turned her attention to the chapel. The wood work was all refinished and gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the large windows, which provided a breathtaking view of the ocean. And the gold trim on the benches was the perfect touch.

After Brooke and her friends took their places at the front of the chapel, the vows were said, rings were exchanged, and the finishing touch was the groom kissing the bride and then dipping her, which gained the applause and whistles of the guests. They really and truly got their happily-ever-after.

The reception was held at a splashy hotel in Union Square. While the ceremony had been small and private, the reception was just the opposite. Both Clara and Andrew had invited not only their family and friends but also business associates. It was a long list.

And yet as Brooke stood in the ballroom with the lights dimmed and candles shimmering on every table, it gave the illusion of a cozy affair. The bride and groom had their first dance, and then it was time for the bridal party to join them. Since everyone in the party had a date for the evening, it was decided they would dance with the guy or gal who had brought them.

Brooke held her hand out to Logan. “Shall we?”

He placed his hand in hers. “We shall.”

When he gazed into her eyes, he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. Her heart pitter-pattered so quickly it made her short of breath.

On the dance floor, he held her in his arms, and to her surprise he was light on his feet. She was quite impressed that this big guy could be so agile. It made her all the more curious about his ability to dance without stepping on her toes.

With her one hand in his and her other hand on his shoulder, she looked up at him. “You’re an excellent dancer.”

He smiled. “You like my moves, huh?”

She couldn’t deny it. “Yes. How did you learn to dance?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was all natural?” When she shook her head, he was quiet for a moment. She worried that she’d ventured into sensitive territory—maybe it had something to do with his ex-wife. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. But… You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Now she was quite intrigued. “I promise. Now out with it.”

“My mother taught me for the sixth-grade dance. I had a crush on a girl in my class. Her name was Peggy Johnson. She had long red hair that she wore in braids. I honestly don’t think she even knew I existed, but I was determined to ask her to dance.”

Brooke was awed by his story. She tried to picture him as a little boy. He would have been so cute. “So did you dance with her?”

“Well, it took me most of the dance to work up the courage to ask her. By the time I made my way over to her, I got out a hi before she walked onto the dance floor with the most popular boy in our class.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. Did you try again?”

He shook his head. “It was the last dance of the night.”

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