Page 47 of Take Me to the Wedding

What I was feeling couldn’t be real. Could it?

“Who’s that for?” Gabe asked poignantly. “I might grab some for Jason. He’s up working already and he’s not really into the hunting-your-breakfast stuff.”

Who was?

“It’s for Samantha,” I said calmly, “but don’t get your knickers in a knot. We’re going to discuss some strategies I can use today with Lilly.”

“Sorry she left early last night,” Gabe said. “But the french fry thing?—”

“I don’t want to talk about the french fry thing.” I cut that discussion off fast.

“You okay with the low-energy test results?” Brax asked.

I studied his expression. He didn’t seem to be joking. “Low energy?”

“Sorry,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “I thought Sam told you. I mean, Mia knew, so I thought you knew too.”

It occurred to me that these doctors were talking about the hocus-pocus matchmaking test with the same scientific objectivity as a patient’s blood chemistry panel. “Sam told me the test was fine.” I left out “flying colors.” My head was spinning a little. Low-energy test? Failed? Why had Sam told me exactly the opposite?

“Maybe it doesn’t matter so much anymore,” Gabe said carefully. “You were with Sam most of the night anyway.”

“Let’s be clear,” I said quickly. “We did a round of dancing together after Lilly left. That was it.” And I’d gotten sort of swept up in the moment—enough that I’d touched her hair. A mistake.

“Leave him alone,” Brax said. “He’s discerning, right, man? You’ve wonderedwhat if, and you’re seeing if Lilly lives up to the hype in your mind. Besides, that matchmaking stuff is just family tradition for Sam. Even she doesn’t actually believe in it.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I let that go.

“I believe in feelings,” Gabe said. “I mean, think about relationships. When something feels extraordinary between two people, it usually is. Or else no one would get married or make a commitment. Sam’s empathic. I think she can naturally sense if there’s chemistry between two people.”

“I thought I had that something special with Lilly,” I confided to my friends. “But now I’m not so sure.” It wasn’t just that I wasn’t feeling any chemistry. The way we viewed life seemed different—like, family was always number one with me, hands down. The way we viewed food (I ate and she didn’t), the way we viewed new experiences (me with anticipation, not skepticism), not to mention the way we treated anyone in the service industry were completely opposing. Her entire lack of interest in discussing books was also a blow. How had I not seen any of this before?

“Lust clouds the brain,” Brax said matter-of-factly.

“What?” I cracked open the coffee lid and watched the steam pour out into the cool morning air.

Gabe gave an enthusiastic nod. “Basically, he’s saying that the sex was great once upon a time, and that colors everything. Makes you look back on that time with rose-colored glasses.”

“Exactly!” Brax high-fived Gabe. “Plus she dumped you, right? If you aren’t the one doing the leaving, you always wonderwhat ifbecause you didn’t have a choice.”

I frowned and shook my head like that wasn’t the case. But I had to admit that the feeling of being in love for the first time had been pretty amazing. It had been a powerful, heady time. But it hadn’t lasted. And I didn’t feel those feelings toward Lilly now at all—in fact, I was struggling to summon them again. As for being the one who was dumped—that had hurt like hell. I hated giving up on anything.

“Sam doesn’t believe in love,” I said. “I’m surprised that she’s even involved in this matchmaking stuff.”

“Everyone believes in love deep inside,” Gabe said softly. “It just takes the right person to make them feel safe wanting it.”

Interesting. Did Sam talk the big talk about not caring about love because she was afraid? Why had she told me the test with Lilly was ragingly positive? I left the guys thinking about the things that had already kept me up way too long at night.

As I walked through the wide-open doors of the barn and passed horse stalls and hay bales and farm equipment, I spotted Sam outside the far end, standing with her elbows on a wooden split rail fence, chatting with a brown-and-white horse. More horses grazed in the distance under the canopy of a lone tree. Beyond that, the morning mist blurred watercolor hills and the light of the rising sun that promised a warm, clear day.

“You’re a pretty thing, you know that, don’t you?” she murmured as she quietly stroked its mane. “Here you go.” She reached into a back pocket of her hiking shorts to pull out a giant carrot, which the horse delicately took between his teeth.

“Looks like you finally found a male you could trust,” I said. Probably not the greatest line to lead with. I set the coffee on a pile of logs behind us—didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Yep.” She tossed me a smile. “He’s a sweet boy. His name is Jetson.”

I liked this soft version of Sam—the one who forgot to be a cynic. Her smile lit me up, clear and bright as the dawning light behind her. The sun was shining on her hair, dark and silky as her horse friend’s, and it was up in a high ponytail again. No nonsense. Like her, dressed in hiking shorts and shoes, ready for the day’s adventures.

Glancing at her watch, she said, “Is it time for breakfast yet? I’m starving.”

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