“Catch me later?” Cassie squeaked into the phone. “He actually said he would catch me later. Like we were bowling partners or something.”

“Have you ever even been bowling?” Olivia asked.

The question halted Cassie in her tracks. She’d been pacing the vestibule of the church for the last five minutes, but her friend’s tangent left her momentarily confused. “No. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Just thought it was an odd reference. I mean, tennis partners would have been a more obvious choice seeing as how you were at the country club.”

“Liv, focus! I swear I think Cole fried a few of your brain cells with that hot wax.”

She lowered her voice. “No, but it felt amazing on my—”

“TMI,” Cassie whisper-shouted. She glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to find the passageway behind her still empty.

Olivia laughed. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Let’s try to stay on topic: me, at church, waiting for the rehearsal to begin and for my handsome stranger to arrive and blow me off.”

“Except as you pointed out earlier, he’s not such a stranger after all.”

“Don’t remind me.” Cassie’s shoulders sagged. “That’s probably why he went all buddy-buddy on me. ‘Catch you later’ is the sort of thing you’d say to your friend’s kid sister as you pat her head on the way out the door.”

“It doesn’t sound like he saw you as anyone’s kid sister last night.”

She sighed. “That was before he knew.”

“Maybe he just felt like anything more than a quick goodbye would embarrass you.”

“It’s not like I expected him to take me on the hood of a car, but a kiss on the cheek, a hug maybe? Would that have been too much to ask for?”

“Well, to be fair, you were the one who ran out on him.”

“What?”

“You were the one who snuck out of his bed, not the other way around, am I right?”

“Yes.” Cassie’s voice was small. That detail hadn’t seemed too significant compared to the rest of the night, but now that Olivia mentioned it, was it possible Hank took her departure as a blow-off? She certainly hadn’t meant it that way. And to be honest, it was rather hard to imagine a guy like Hank being too broken up over a one night stand that didn’t end with an awkward morning. Guys didn’t learn how to “do it” like that without lots and lots of practice, and something told her it wasn’t with the same girl for very long. Didn’t guys like that prefer a clean getaway? Then again, he had looked quite frantic when he came through the door, shirt in hand and feet still bare.

“I only ‘snuck’ so as not to wake him,” Cassie offered in her defense. “And besides, my plan was to be back before he even knew I was gone.”

“Why in the world did you leave in the first place? If this guy’s half as good looking as you say he is then you should have kept your ass right where it was.”

“I just wanted to freshen up a bit in my room. My hair was sticking out all over the place and my face was doing that smooshy thing it does when it gets all creasy from the pillow and you know how I feel about brushing my teeth first thing in the morning. What if he’d wanted to kiss me?”

Olivia gasped in feigned horror. “God forbid.”

“I’m serious, Liv.”

“So am I. And I’ve got a newsflash for you. From what you’ve told me, he was going to do a lot more than kiss you.”

“Which is all the more reason to have a few private bathroom moments.”

“You’re killing me. Sometimes you just have to roll with it, you know? And how exactly were you going to explain the minty fresh breath anyways?”

“My point is,” Cassie said, ignoring her question, “I wasn’t trying to avoid him.” In fact, to say she’d been looking forward to seeing him again was the understatement of the century. Hank had occupied her thoughts from the moment she’d left him standing in the hallway of the bed and breakfast. Spending the afternoon at the spa hadn’t helped matters. In fact, it seemed to make the day drag on forever. Who knew being pampered could actually slow the passage of time? At least that’s how it had felt to her, because every time she glanced at a clock it was as though the hands had barely moved.

She’d been counting the minutes until she could slip into her dress and head to the church, but after seeing Hank in the parking lot, she had the distinct impression she was about to be moved into the “just friends” category. At least she was properly buffed and polished for the occasion of being dumped. Then again, was it technically a breakup, seeing is how they’d only spent one night together? This wild fling stuff was turning out to be a lot more complicated than she had imagined. She’d no sooner had the thought when a sinking feeling formed in the pit of Cassie’s stomach.

“Is this what having a one night stand feels like?” she asked. “If so, I think I prefer the drought.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

No, she didn’t. Even if Hank never wanted to see her again, much less have sex with her again, Cassie would never regret the night they’d spent together. Their time together was unlike anything Cassie had ever experienced in her orderly, predictable, boring-as-hell life. It was spontaneous and reckless and mother of god, more passionate than half the novels she’d read—and that was saying something considering the size of her Kindle library. And while there were countless emotions associated with the experience—most of which she probably wouldn’t fully sort out until weeks if not months later—not a one of them was regret. Truth be told, at the moment the only thing she was regretting was that it might not happen again.

“Look, try to relax and just go with it,” Olivia said. “You’ve been running on fumes for months now. Hell, as long as I’ve known you you’ve been putting in sixteen-hour days, first in school, then at the firm, and now the shop. It’s time for Cassandra Miller to let her hair down and just . . . chill.”

“I wish you were going to be here tonight.”

“Me too. If for no other reason than I’m dying to see this guy. You should have taken a picture of the two of you last night.”

Cassie snorted. “That might have been a little awkward since we were naked for most of it.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Cassie sucked in a sharp breath. “You didn’t!” Oh, who was she kidding, of course they did. “Aren’t you worried about accidentally posting them to Snapchat or something?” With Cassie’s luck she would do just that, only she’d probably end up putting the shots on Facebook so her mother and all her friends would see.

“That’s why God created Polaroids.” She could hear the smile in Olivia’s voice. “Do me a favor and thank him for me while you’re there, will ya?”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

“Any sign of him?”

“God? Isn’t he sort of everywhere?”

“I don’t mean that God.” Even over the phone Cassie knew her friend was rolling her eyes. “I mean the sex god.”

“Not yet.” Cassie walked over to the stained-glass windows. Someone had cranked one open and through the opening she could see that more of the wedding party was arriving. “Looks like Judy’s here though,” she said, spotting her mother chatting with Mrs. Ford and the minister. She’d hardly seen her mom since arriving in Georgia, which was absolutely fine as far as Cassie was concerned. In fact, with any luck her mother-of-the groom duties would continue to occupy most of her time, allowing for a sizable buffer.

“Has she started ticking yet?”

Cassie forced a laugh. “No, but that’s only because she’s distracted. I expect it will start at the reception, probably around the time Emily tosses the bouquet. Earlier if they keep the bar open during dinner.” Her mom had more of a biological clock than Cassie did. According to her timeline, she should already have at least one grandchild on the way, something she was fond of mentioning. Often. Then again, now that Matthew was tying the knot, maybe he’d be the one subjected to clock noises. Speaking of Matthew . . .

Cassie scanned the manicured lawn in search of her brother. She found him standing on the walkway that led to the church. It was only the rehearsal but he already looked nervous, adjusting and readjusting his tie as Emily’s father and cousins gathered around him. Judging by the smiles on their faces, they were no doubt teasing her brother by telling him it wasn’t too late to escape.

“You could always gnaw your leg out of the trap,” one of them said, loud enough to confirm her suspicions. A moment later a black SUV rolled to a stop on the gravel drive. The door swung open and Emily stepped out of the back. She was wearing a white chiffon sundress that made her look like an angel in the glow of the late afternoon sun. But it wasn’t her ethereal future sister-in-law who drew Cassie’s attention. It was the expression on her brother’s face. Because despite having looked as though he might puke not two minutes before, when Emily turned to face him all the tension in his frame eased and he smiled like he’d won the lottery, the Super Bowl, and the World Series all at once. What she wouldn’t give to have a man look at her like that.

Cassie let out a frustrated groan. “Maybe you could just crash the rehearsal anyways? I’ll tell Matthew to make you a flower girl or something.”

“Relax. My money says your handsome stranger will come looking for you the minute he gets there.”

“Might not want to wager all of it. You’re ridiculously wealthy now, remember?”

“I consider it a safe bet.” She paused then asked, “What are you wearing?”

“You sound like a phone sex operator.”

Olivia laughed. “And how many of those have you spoken to?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you love me anyways. Now clothes, something tight and low cut?”

“That’s what worked for you,” Cassie said, referencing the little black dress that ended up on Cole’s hotel room floor that fateful night in Vegas. “But this is barnyard casual, so no, nothing tight and low cut.”

“Barnyard casual?” Olivia laughed. “Is that a thing?”

“Beats me. All I know is Emily said to be dressy enough for church but casual enough for a hoe down.” Cassie glanced down at her outfit. “I wore that off-the-shoulder peasant top we found at that festival last year and this cool skirt I got on sale at TJ Maxx.” She gathered a handful of the fabric in her hands and swooshed it from side to side. “It will be perfect if I have a partner to spin me round and round.”

“Or to dive beneath the layers.”

“Do you ever think of anything besides sex?” But instead of a reply Cassie heard a noise in the background that sounded like leather smacking a mattress or maybe a pillow, then a deep voice said something she couldn’t quite make out.

“Umm, gotta go,” Olivia said after a sharp inhale. “Cole has another anniversary surprise.”

There was a muffled giggle follow by a low groan. For the love of—

“Call me after the dinner and let me know how it went?”

Cassie shook her head and smiled. “I think you might be a little tied up.”

“Who knows, maybe you will be too,” Olivia said before the line went dead.

Yeah, fat chance of that , Cassie thought as she tucked her phone into her purse. If Hank wasn’t interested in a simple kiss goodbye, he sure as heck wasn’t going to be thinking about tying her up. Dear Lord, did she really just go there? Cassie had always considered herself about as vanilla as they come. She would have never thought it a turn on to surrender control of any sort to a man, but there was something about Hank that made her want to do all manner of things she had never considered.

“I know that look,” a man said from the shadows of the vestibule.

Cassie froze. She knew that voice, intimately. It was the same one that had whispered roughly in her ear the night before, telling her all the naughty ways he was going to make her come, again and again.

His footsteps moved across the stone floor and every nerve in her body sprung to life.

“Do you?” she asked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. The warmth of his body spread through her, melting her against his hard frame in a wave of overwhelming relief. Clearly she’d read him wrong earlier when she’d feared he wanted to just be friends.

“Mmmm,” he hummed into her hair. “It’s the look of a woman in the mood for sex. Filthy, dirty, depraved sex if I’m not mistaken.”

She giggled as his breath tickled her neck. “You could tell all that from one look?”

“Most definitely. But don’t be embarrassed, luv. I’ve been fantasizing about the exact same thing.”

“You’re playing.”

“Bollocks. I couldn’t stop thinking of you all day. In fact, it took all of my self-control not to come looking for you at the shop.” Hank leaned closer so his lips were at her ear and whispered, “I haven’t been able to get an image out of my head—you wearing nothing but that frilly red apron, bent over the counter . . .”

Cassie’s mouth popped open in surprise. “We’re in church!” She did her best to act outraged, but the ridiculous smile on her face said otherwise. And there was no denying the excitement that pulsed between her legs as she reveled in his imagery.

“Hmm. It seemed as though you were crying out to God quite often last night.”

He was incorrigible and impossible and. . . . unbelievably sexy. She knew she shouldn’t encourage him but she couldn’t help herself. “Might be in need of a few more prayers,” she said in a soft voice that hardly sounded like her own. “You know, for repentance.”

Hank growled as his teeth nipped her ear, but before he could reply, Matthew appeared.

“Cool it you two. This whole thing is freaking me out.” He shivered and shook like he had a bad case of the heebie-jeebies. “At this rate I won’t even be able to get it up on my wedding night.”

“Oh no, don’t blame your inadequacies on us.” Hank chuckled. He stepped back, allowing Cassie a chance to drink in the total package. He was wearing gray pants and loafers paired with a black shirt that made him look every bit the handsome devil she knew he was. “And besides,” he said, “I was merely explaining to your sister how thoughts of her delectables had me preoccupied all day.”

Her brother began to sputter and cough.

Hank clapped his hand over Matthew’s shoulder and laughed in that way one friend does when he knows he’s pulled something over on the other. “Relax mate, I was only talking about baked goods and how thoughts of what she might be whipping up in that apron today had me so distracted.”

Matthew shot him a look. “Is that why your golf game was total shit?” he deadpanned.

“Touché,” Hank said, then he turned and winked at Cassie. “I’d love to blame you for my abysmal performance on the golf course today, but I’m afraid that’s all on me. Although I’d like to see how much money Mr. Plaid Pants would lose on the polo field.”

The door behind them creaked open and Emily walked into the church. She was holding a bouquet fashioned from various pastel bows that had been arranged on a paper plate.

“What the devil is that?” Hank asked.

“Her rehearsal bouquet,” Matthew said. The same dopey look that he’d sported outside made a return.

“It’s a tradition we have here,” Cassie explained to a confused looking Hank. “The maid of honor makes it with the bows from the gifts at her bridal shower.”

“Sounds a bit absurd if you ask me.”

“You’ll learn when your day comes,” Matthew said. “Best to just go with it. The less questions asked the better.”

“Oh, but there’s more,” Cassie added. “They only use the bows that were removed intact. Any that are ripped or torn go into a different pile.”

Hank smiled. “Dare I ask what happens to them?”

“Well,” she began, enjoying the look of horror that had replaced the bliss on her brother’s face. Apparently this was one question he had dared to ask. “As the old wives tale goes, each broken ribbon equals one child.” A wide grin spread across Cassie’s face. “Which, if they’re right, means I should be an aunt six times over.”

“Fuck me,” Hank said on a dramatic exhale. “That’s a lot of nappies.”

“What do old wives know anyways?” Matthew grumbled.

“More than old husbands,” Cassie teased.

The minister approached Emily and whispered a few words in a hushed voice. Within seconds all the color drained from her face.

“This can’t be good,” Matthew said. “I better go see what’s going on.” He excused himself to join the huddle that had now formed around the bride-to-be. After a few tense moments the minister made a brief announcement.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention please.” His request was hardly necessary as all eyes were already on him. “I’m afraid there’s going to be a slight delay. It appears our soloist has come down with a rather nasty case of the stomach flu and won’t be able to perform as scheduled. The musical director has generously offered the services of the choir, so if you will beg our pardon while they work out a few numbers with the organist and the bride and groom”—the man pulled a white handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his brow—“we should be underway in plenty of time to get you to dinner.”

A low rumble spread through the small crowd.

“Does this mean we’re missing happy hour?” one of Emily’s cousin asked. She shot him a look that had the poor boy mimicking a zipper across his lips, then headed toward the choir loft with Matthew and their mothers in tow.

A random thought popped into Cassie’s head. “You know what would be an amazing solution to this problem?”

“What’s that, luv?”

“If my brother arranged for a recreation of the wedding scene in Love Actually.”

Hank groaned. “What is it with birds and that film?”

“It’s a holiday classic. Scratch that, it’s just a classic in general. I watch it every year. Have you never seen it?”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” he said. “I’d imagine most men on the planet have seen it, although very few of them by choice. Come to think of it though, you might be on to something. A Billy Mack performance would certainly liven this place up, especially the naked one.”

Cassie gave him a playful swat just as the organ roared to life above them. The notes reverberated off the vestibule’s stone walls making it feel as though she was standing inside a very large stereo speaker. Nearly everyone around her covered their ears with the palms of their hands.

“Might I invite you to take a seat in one of the pews?” the minister nearly shouted in suggestion. “The acoustics are a bit better there.”

“Quite loud when you’re right below it,” Cassie said as they made their way down one of the side aisles.

“Hmm,” Hank agreed. A moment later a fiendish look filled his eyes. It was the same look he’d given her right before smearing chocolate on her lips.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.” With no further explanation, he turned and headed back toward the rear of the church.

Cassie took a seat in one of the pews. Around her the murmur of voices ebbed and flowed, giving her bits and pieces of conversations covering virtually every topic possible. From what she could hear, the members of Matthew and Emily’s wedding party were spending the unexpected break discussing everything from the odds on whether the Cubs or Braves would win the division to whether the caterer would be serving chicken or beef. Two women were particularly animated as they discussed the pros and cons of wearing white shoes to the ceremony the next day. According to one it was perfectly acceptable as it was after Memorial Day, but according to the other it was unacceptable should there be rain, which spun them into an entirely different direction as they began to debate the theory that rain on a wedding day was considered good luck.

“This sucks, huh?”

Cassie looked up to see one of Emily’s cousins sliding into the pew next to her. She’d met him briefly when she arrived on Thursday, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall his name.

“Oh, I mean, um, this stinks.” His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “Shouldn’t be swearing in front of a lady. Or in church.” He pulled a weathered baseball cap out of his pocket and started to put it on. “Shit, can’t wear a hat in here either.” A horrified look crossed his face. “Aww hell, I did it again.”

Cassie gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure God will understand.”

The young man laughed nervously. “He might, but no way my mama will.” He squeezed the brim of the hat into a deep curve. Hat. Pat with a hat. Of course, Cassie thought. For years she’d used mnemonics devices to help her not only with names, but important facts she had to remember for work or school. The technique had never let her down, although truth be told she sometimes worried she would repeat the rhymes out loud.

“Think they’ll be getting this going anytime soon?” Pat asked, looking over his shoulder. Cassie followed his gaze to the choir loft where Matthew and Emily were flipping through a songbook as the organist rolled from one song to another. Behind them the choir members began to take their place on risers.

“I’m sure no one’s more anxious to get this underway than they are.” Cassie’s phone vibrated in her hand. When she looked down she was surprised to find a text from an unknown number. With a swipe of her thumb she expanded the message.

Meet me in the back. Right side.

It had to be from Hank, at least she assumed it was him, although it wasn’t signed and she hadn’t given him her cell number. She smiled at the realization that he must have convinced Matthew to give it to him. Quite an accomplishment given the way the day had started.

She closed the screen and glanced over her shoulder. Nothing. She looked to the other corner. Still noting. Did he mean the right as you were leaving or as you were coming in? Only one way to find out.

“Excuse me,” she said to her seatmate. “I’m going to see if I can find the little girls room.”

“Oh, sure, right.” Pat stood to let her slip past him out of the pew. He looked so embarrassed you’d have thought she told him she needed to find a tampon. “See you later then.”

She gave him a smile and a nod before making her way to the back of the church as quickly as she could without attracting the attention of the other members of the wedding party. Lucky for her most were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay much attention to a woman in three-inch heels trying to discreetly make a fast getaway.

The echo of the organ grew louder the closer she got, mercifully masking the click-clack of her heels. When she reached the right side of the vestibule, she looked around, but all she saw was the baptismal font and the velvet curtains of two confessionals.

Gah, what was it about men and directions? Maybe he meant the right as you were coming in. She started to cross the stone floor when an arm shot out from between two of the curtains. In one swift move, Hank pulled her into the confessional and pushed her up against the wall of the small, dark box.

“What are you—”

“Shhh.” Both hands framed her face as he sealed his lips over hers, taking her mouth in a long, deep kiss. “I couldn’t go another minute without kissing you,” he murmured as he pulled away.

Her hands found their way into his hair, bringing his mouth back to hers. If a kiss was what he wanted, then who was she to deprive him? She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth before sliding her tongue over his in slow, savoring strokes. They were both breathing hard when she finally released him. “Feel better now?” she asked with a satisfied grin.

He gathered the fabric of her skirt in his hand and began slowly inching it up her bare thigh. “That’s not where I wanted to kiss you.”

“In church?” she gasped. Holy mother of God. Literally. And yet there was no denying the effect his words had on her. A surge of heat coursed through her veins before settling low in her belly.

A devilish grin curved his lips as he sank down to the padded kneeler in front of her. “What better place to worship you?”

It was hard to believe that just a few minutes ago she was questioning his desire to continue whatever it was they’d started the night before. Because there he was, looking up at her from beneath impossibly long lashes as his lips left a trail of open-mouth kisses along her inner thigh, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted more. That, and how somewhere deep inside, a part of her was already dreading saying goodbye.