Page 106 of Doing It for Love

“It took you grandmother and two bridesmaids to pull me back into the bridal room. I kept babbling about how your father never cleaned, spent too much time working, how we didn’t kiss like we used to, and I wasn’t even sure if he was the one.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. That man I married still never cleans, works too much, and we don’t kiss as often. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because he’s also that same man who loves me as much as he did that very first day we laid eyes on each other. And I cannot picture a life that would’ve been better than the one he shares with me.”

I dab a shaking finger under my eye, careful not to ruin anything. “So it’s okay Landon leaves his socks on the floor?”

She laughs. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

“It drives me crazy.”

“But you still love him.”

“Yeah.” I grin. “I love him and his dirty socks.”

“Then I think you’re ready to get married, baby.”

Theresa bursts back in the room about ten minutes later, Spanx in hand. “Okay, let’s get you into that damn dress.”

—

Red and black drapes float across snow-covered windows. Flowers line the aisles, petals in my bridesmaids’ hair, and red and white roses clipped to lapels. Sparkly snowflakes hang from the high ceiling, accent the seats in the hall, and while it’s so gorgeous and more than I could ever hope for in a wedding, all I see is the pepper stuck in Landon’s teeth. And after Dad lifts my veil and gives me away, I automatically reach up and get that sucker out of there.

“Are you sure you two aren’t married already?” the preacher asks with much laughter from the congregation. Landon pulls me forward and wipes under my eye, getting whatever makeup residue that’s splotched there with the sweat forming all over my body. Winter wedding, great idea…except they turn the heat up a thousand degrees and that doesn’t help when you’re wearing Spanx .

But my dress is all the way zipped up. I finally made it over that Hurdle.

After Landon and I have prepped each other, he takes my hand and the preacher starts off with lots of good advice about love and family and friendship, but I can’t concentrate much with the butterflies storming in my stomach and sharing hand squeezes with Landon.

“Now,” the preacher man says, gesturing to Landon and me, “the bride and groom have written their own vows.”

My stomach…

drops.

Honest to the sweet Lord, I almost curse right then and there in front of a man of the cloth. Landon kinks his neck to the side, because I think I’m supposed to go first, and as much of a planner as I am, as anal and as organized, I forget my stinking vows back at the apartment! I look at Theresa, whose mouth is open and she’s shaking her head like, “You never gave those to me.”

I stare blankly back to my husband-to-be, lips parted slightly as I mouth, “I forgot them.”

Whispering stirs in the congregation, and my face grows warmer and warmer under the lights. I forgot my wedding vows. I am the worst bride ever. He’s going to leave me right here at the altar, because my mind goes blank. I don’t even remember what I wrote in the first place. I had a killer joke to start with, and then I was beautiful and sweet and, damn it, I’m a flake! Should I even be doing this?

Landon takes my hand with an amused grin, kisses my finger, and says, “I vow to make you laugh.”

Then he waits for me.

“I…I vow to humor you about your jokes.”

“What if they’re really bad?” he asks with a laugh.

“Even then.”

“I vow to pick up my socks.”

I snort. Actually snort during our vows. “Can I get that in writing?”

“You want it notarized, too?”

I weave my fingers through his and take a step closer. “I vow to sing to you when you’re sick.”

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