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“So basically, Briar—she’s a photographer here in Savannah, just outside the city—anyway, she’s a little loud, and one thing led to another, and one of the people that works at the magazine found out that I was newly engaged. She was apparently familiar with my recent client list and my specialty, being simple Southern weddings. And they thought it would be a good idea to just shadow me and follow me around to see what it was like planning my own wedding,” I explain, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

“I’m sorry, but doesn’t that usually take a year? Or more? I mean, I’m a guy, and even I know that a wedding can’t be planned in thirty days,” he responds, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing.” My head falls into my hands. “I may or may not have had one too many margaritas and wagered that it could be done.”

“So, you’re telling me—no offense, because I believe that you’re damn good at your job, or they never would’ve approached you about an article—but you’re telling me that you can plan your entire dream wedding in thirty days, in the height of wedding season?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not my dream wedding. It’s a wedding. And second of all, you’re obviously underestimating the power of a small town. But bonus points for knowing about wedding season.” I fight off a grin.

“Well, I am the editor-in-chief of this little bridal magazine. You may have heard of it—Blissful Bride?”

“So you keep saying.” I bite back a smile.

“Go on.” His gaze locks on mine.

“So basically, Henry—the ex,” I sigh, and he rolls his eyes. “We were supposed to meet today, just to go over everything and set a schedule. You would interview us as a couple, how we met, blah, blah, blah.”

“How did you meet?”

“Does it really matter now? He’s not here, and he’s not my fiancé.”

“It matters to me. I’m his replacement, after all.” He almost looks… jealous? No, he couldn’t be.

“We met in the Savannah wedding circuit when we were both in college, and we hit it off. He’s a photographer, and I was doing same-day wedding coordinating.”

“Sounds romantic.” He drawls out sarcastically. “I can see why you were the obvious choice.”

His words sting.

“It’s hard to find someone that understands the life, round the clock calls and messages, meetings, travel and your weekends are never free. So yeah, one year casually dating—” I take a moment to collect my thoughts as the hurt simmers.

Casual is right… it was really more like convenient sex and the occasional plus one. Someone to share a hot meal and a warm bed with when our schedules lined up. Not exactly romantic, and a whole new layer to my humiliation admitting to myself what we really were.

“Like I was saying, one year turned into almost four, and we’ve been basically remote dating on and off for the past couple years. He was never really planning to be here for all of it anyway. So, it’s not like you would have to be there for everything. But the reporter—” I wince. “Sorry, writer was supposed to come to Magnolia Grove and shadow me and go through the appointments with us, or most likely me.”

“So, he wasn’t even going to be there?”

“Not for all of it. I would be doing my thing, and he would be there next week to meet my family and for a couple appearances. Then he would come back the week before the wedding.”

“I can’t believe this. He was actually going to leave you alone to—wait, what? Meet your family? You’re telling me he hasn’t even met your family?” His eyebrows shoot up. “In four years!”

“He was busy traveling overseas. It kept getting pushed back, then my mom got sick… and just— no.” My default is to apologize and make excuses for him, but I’m done making excuses for Henry. “No he hasn’t met my family or been to my hometown.”

“Christ! Sounds like you dodged a bullet if you ask me.” He watches me over his cup as he takes a big swig of coffee. “Hell, maybe I need a mimosa,” he grumbles, lightening the mood as he motions for the waiter.

“Yes, sir?”

“We would like a basket of scones and croissants, please. And I’ll have mimosa. Lucy?”

“Coffee for me this round.” I smile at the young man taking our order.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Please.” I nod.

“Figured you might need something to soak up all the champagne.” Beau winks.

I like this Beau… charming, thoughtful Beau. I also like hands-all-over-my-body-kissing-me-from-behind Beau.