Page 29 of One Sweet Match Up

“I guess so. I hope the groom shows up,” Zoe kidded. Since he’d arranged for a limo for the pseudo wedding party, she knew for a fact that a tux-wearing Will was in the main dining room, probably hamming it up with the seniors.

Perhaps one day her own real wedding would be as much fun as this fake one.

But with another groom who didn’t check himself out in every store, car, and door reflection from the boutique to here. Yep, that was Will Jenkins through and through.

It’d been a great morning and far from her usual Saturday routine of going to the Star Lite, reading a newspaper, and then doing her weekly grocery shopping.

Will had been an awesome faux groom, supplying the wedding party models with mimosas. Zoe had enjoyed the opportunity to hang out with people her age. It was the first time she didn’t feel like the lone outsider.

Bridget had even invited her to a girls’ night out with Caitlin for later in the month. She smiled over at the librarian, happy that she may have finally made a new friend. Maybe things were turning around and she wouldn’t have to spend another Friday night alone.

The “Wedding March” began, and Bridget ordered all the pretend bridesmaids to follow her into the main room.

Zoe took a deep breath. For a fake wedding, her palms were sweating. All eyes would be on her, and that was nerve-racking. She was more of a “stand in the shadows” kind of girl.

“It’s time to step out of the shadows.” She gave herself a pep talk and crossed the foyer into the main dining room.You’re having a great time.

This would only be a few minutes, and then she and Will would run back to her frozen yogurt shop to fetch the prepared cups she’d made this morning. Easy, peasy.

Pushing through her nerves, she turned for the entrance. Her heart stopped first, followed by her feet.

What was Donovan Foster doing on the stage? And wearing a tux! Where the hell was Will?

Oh, God. What do I do?

Donovan lifted his lips, giving her what had to be the sexiest smile on the planet . . . or any planet. He nodded ever so slightly for her to join him on stage.

Was this a joke? What happened to the original fake groom?

Realizing that all eyes were on her, she pressed one heel forward, trying hard not to show that her insides had come completely undone.

Once she reached the stage, Donovan offered his hand, his touch sending tingles up her arm.

“Hi,” was all she could say, taking his hand and joining him on stage.

“You look beautiful.”

“I . . . um . . . where’s Will?”

“Stage fright.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Seriously?”

He leaned in. “I hate to tell you this, but he ran away with my sister to live a life of serving grilled cheeses and tomato soup to Buttermilk Falls residents.” He nodded. “See for yourself.”

She looked out to the crowd and stifled a laugh. Sure enough, Will was following Rachel around the room, setting down soup cups onto the tables.

“Jerk,” she kidded. “I should have known he’d leave me at the altar.” She turned to Donovan. “So, are you my new Sweet Match Up?”

“Looks that way.” He pointed down to his pants. “I’m sorry about these.”

Zoe looked down, and this time couldn’t hold in a laugh. She hadn’t noticed his black-and-white checkered chef pants.

“You look beautiful,” he repeated.

Her cheeks warmed. Standing next to Donovan Foster—while wearing a wedding dress and having him call her beautiful—was definitely not how she envisioned this day would turn out.

Since the snowstorm, she’d done her best to forget how incredibly awesome it had been to be in his arms.

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