Once Upon a Wedding (Meet Cute Romance 7)

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“My dad taught me. He was a cabinetmaker and master carpenter.” Denver scanned the crowds of people busily placing chairs around the moved tables.

“Such a wonderful skill to have. A dying art.”

He worked up a smile because he wasn’t a total dick. “Thanks, Mrs. Vaughn. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find Misty.”

Essie beamed at him and tapped her nose

. “Of course you do. Go right on ahead, honey.”

Denver cut a swath through the other guests, making a beeline for outside. Maybe she’d gone up to the inn to help with food? He got waylaid again four more times by people offering praise or asking questions about the damned arbor. Xander’s mama tried to talk him into building one out at their place. It took him another fifteen minutes to shake loose of her without being rude. It seemed prudent to make the effort since her son could arrest him. This. This was why he didn’t do this for a living. His fuse was getting shorter by the minute. He needed to find Misty.

There! Denver spotted her across the barn, adjusting the centerpieces on each table.

Head down, he plowed through the crowd like the offensive lines he used to break in high school football. Misty’s eyes widened as he made it to the table. As she’d known he’d be here, he could only imagine he looked pretty intense.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked

Everything. “There are some things I need to say.”

Misty frowned. “Here?”

“Yeah.” Denver paused, aware of all the people milling about. “Well, not right on this spot. C’mon.” He took her hand, relieved when she didn’t protest as he pulled her out of the barn.

There were more people milling about, working on transferring food for the buffet, and the wedding party was taking pictures across the yard, but it wasn’t wall-to-wall bodies. He kept going until he hit a bench on an overlook a little ways from the house, out of earshot and out of the line of the camera. He paused there, looking out over the mountains he’d made home, waiting for the peace they usually brought to seep into him. It didn’t.

He turned to Misty and tightened his grip on the hand he still held. It was daisies twined in her hair today. They were always his favorite. Something simple and cheerful that suited the sweet nature he’d come to crave. He wanted her back in his life as more than somebody to wave to on the street. “I was wrong.”

She shook her head, clearly not understanding. “Denver, you already apologized. We’re good.”

“No we’re not. The apology was part of it, but after I finished prying my head out of my ass, I realized exactly how badly I screwed up. Because there’s a you-sized hole in my life.”

Misty stared at him.

Hell, he was screwing this up. Impatient, he ran a hand over his hair. “I miss you. And Oscar may never forgive me if he doesn’t get to see Moxie again. We want you back, if you can see your way to forgiving me for being a dumbass.”

There. He’d said it. He’d put the whole thing out there. Now, heart in his throat, Denver held his breath, knowing it was out of his hands.

~*~

We want you back.

He might have been slow, but he’d finally made a move. And it was exactly what Misty had wanted him to say the other night. But though her heart pounded with hope, with excitement, there was no little bit of fear mixed in. She’d let down her walls with this man. She’d let him into her life further than any man in years, and at the first sign of trouble, he’d run. What guarantee did she have that he wouldn’t do it again? That the memories she inadvertently evoked for him wouldn’t get thrown back in her face somewhere down the line?

I was wrong.

Did he really mean it? He looked so penitent staring down at her with those clear gray eyes. A rare streak of vulnerability colored his expression, and Misty realized she had the capacity to hurt him, too. This big, intense, broody man was actually holding his breath, waiting for her to answer. Maybe that told her everything she needed to know.

“Having an emotional trauma and choosing to go off and deal with it on your own instead of taking it directly out on me does not make you a dumbass.” Misty had worked her away around to that over the past couple of days. She wished he’d told her at the time, but she realized that, in his own way, he’d been trying to protect her from his reaction. “You could have been incredibly ugly to me over the whole thing. I know ugly. I’ve been used to being blamed for things that aren’t my fault, that I had no actual control over. You didn’t do that. My story brought up some big emotional stuff for you—stuff you usually keep locked away—and rather than unleash it on me unfairly, you went off to brood on your own. And yeah, that hurt me, so let’s not do that ever again. But I can understand it. I even see a strength of character in how you handled yourself.”

Denver ducked his head. Was he blushing? Sure enough, color was creeping up his neck. “Does that mean you’ll give me another chance?”

He’d come this far on his own. She could meet him the rest of the way. Sliding her arms around his neck, Misty rose to her toes and brushed her lips against his. “We can’t break the dogs’ hearts, now can we?”

Denver’s arms closed around her and Misty found herself off the ground as he spun her in a fast circle, before his mouth came down on hers for a kiss that meant serious business. It was the smattering of applause that brought Misty back to herself. Pulling back, she felt her own cheeks heat as she realized half the wedding guests had spilled out onto the lawn and were watching, as were the wedding party.