Page 78 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“Meant what?” he asked, stunned by the beauty of the woman before him.

“That you wanted to marry me in a church for real,” she said.

“Oh, Annie-girl.” Fisher reached out and pulled her close. “I meant it and how.”

Annie tossed her bouquet of yellow roses to her mother and looped her arms around his neck. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Fisher swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Annie Talbot, I want to ask you, will you marry me...for real?”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Fisher McCoy, I’ll marry you...for real.”

Then he kissed her. It didn’t matter that her father was standing right beside them or that the minister was clearing his throat, trying to prevent this highly unusual occurrence. He kissed her until he was satisfied that she knew how very much he loved her and then he kissed her again.

When he released her, her lips were swollen and her chin was sporting a touch of whisker burn. She looked thoroughly bemused. Fisher grinned and pressed his forehead against hers.

“I love you, Annie-girl,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

Fisher took her hand in his and together they turned to face the minister.

As the minister began his sermon, Annie leaned toward Fisher and whispered, “Does this mean I never have to be a bridesmaid again?”

“Yes. Now you’ll always be a bride. My bride.”

Annie grinned and squeezed his hand. She had a feeling she was going to like being a bride.

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