Page 86 of Bound To Be Mine

“Worth it, though.”

He bent down and kicked off his shoes, then pulled off his socks and stuffed them in his shoes. I watched him roll up his pant legs. “Ready,” he said.

“Ready?”

“You said a walk. Let’s walk.”

We left our shoes at the base of the trail. I wasn’t too worried about a shoe thief coming along and stealing them.

We started walking along the waterline. The peace felt good. It felt right with him in my special space.

“I told you about my work, tell me about yours,” he said. “I stumbled on a show in the middle of the night years ago… Bridezillas I think.”

I groaned. “Oh yes.”

“You have experience with those types?” He glanced over at me.

“Only all the time.”

Briggs smiled. “Tell me. Give me the juicy parts.”

“I have NDAs.”

“Don’t tell me names. Just the stories. I’m an attorney. Consider this attorney-client privilege.”

“Aren’t I supposed to pay you a dollar?”

He stopped walking, grabbed my face and kissed me. “There. You paid me with a kiss.”

I laughed. “Okay. Last spring. A bride, who was actually a lovely woman, decides she wants an ice sculpture as the centerpiece of her reception.”

“That’s not unusual.”

“Directly in front of the fireplace,” I finished.

He stopped walking. “What?”

“The roaring, very operational fireplace,” I confirmed. “At a venue that is known for its gorgeous fireplace. Which was in all the brochures. Which she had seen before reserving it. I’m not talking about a standard fireplace. It was huge. It was one of the reasons people booked the venue.”

“And you told her no.”

“I explained the situation four times. Her response, each time, was that it would be fine because the sculpture was going to be very big and cold.” I resumed walking and he fell back into step. “It was not fine. It became a puddle and a lawsuit concern in under thirty minutes. Your future sister-in-law would have had a fit.”

“What did you do?”

“I had backup florals. I always have backup florals. The ice sculptor was very gracious about the whole thing, which I think means it had happened to him before.” I paused. “But that’s not even the best one.”

“There’s a better one?”

“Oh yeah. Two years ago. Bride wants her dress made of cake.”

The silence that followed was its own response.

“Not a dress that looks like cake,” I clarified. “Not cake-themed. Actual cake.”

“You’re lying,” he said.

“Nope. She had found an artist online that made a small decorative cake dress as an art installation. Somehow, my bride decided this was a viable option for an actual wedding.”