He can’t be talking to me. Warren is the only man I’ve been seriously involved with. It’s been years since I’ve heard from either of the other two guys I briefly dated. Besides, neither of them had a toe-curling voice like the man behind me.
I look up to the ceiling and whisper under my breath, “I’m going to take this as a sign.”
“Afton?” Warren tugs on my arm. “Who is that guy?”
I spin around to see a man charging up the aisle. His brown hair is a mess, and his blue eyes are laser-focused on me.
He’s dressed in a dark blue suit and a wrinkled white button-down shirt. He might look like he just rolled out of bed, but he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
“Wow,” I say under my breath.
The man stops in his tracks when our eyes meet. His hand jumps to his mouth. “Oh, shit.”
I glance around. All eyes in the church are on me. Every assumption is the same.
These people came here to witness me marry Warren. They think that the man who just barged in is someone from my past.
I take a leap of faith because I believe in fate.
“I’m sorry, Warren,” I say, shoving my bouquet into his hands. “I can’t marry you.”
“What?” His voice comes out high-pitched. “What are you talking about, Afton?”
I glance at his face. It’s the same face that I thought I loved for the past ten years, but I’ve never felt a charge of desire when I’ve looked at him. I’ve never yearned for his touch or melted inside because of his kiss.
“He’s right.” I point at the man standing in the middle of the aisle. “I can’t marry you.”
I bunch the skirt of my dress into my fists and run toward the handsome stranger. “We need to go.”
“I’m sorry,” he slurs as his gaze volleys between Warren and me. “I made a mistake.”
I grab his hand and pull. He’s well over six feet tall, and his broad shoulders and trim waist hint at how muscular he is under the suit. “We have to go now.”
“Afton.” My dad’s voice snaps through the silence. “What’s going on?”
I turn back to look at him. “Destiny. It’s all about destiny.”
My pulse races as I run out of the church holding tightly to the hand of a beautiful stranger, not knowing what my future holds but feeling a sense of relief unlike any I’ve ever felt before.
Chapter 3
Afton
The man who interrupted my wedding settles next to me on the back seat of the limo, slamming the door behind him.
I didn’t invite him along for the ride. I assumed once we stepped out into the evening air that he’d head in another direction, but he followed me to the car. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the phone in his hand since we left the church.
I pat the driver on the shoulder. “I need you to drive. I don’t care where, but get me away from this church now.”
“Is everything all right?” He stares at us in the rearview mirror. “The groom looks a little rough around the edges.”
“He’s not the groom.”
He cocks one graying eyebrow. “Do I want to know what’s going on here?”
“I’m the bride,” I point out even though it’s blatantly obvious based on the way I’m dressed. “My dad paid for the rental of this car, so let’s move.”
“I’m on it.” He shifts the car into drive, easing it away from the curb.
I turn back to look at the church’s entrance. My parents, Joel, and Nelson are standing on the steps next to Warren. He’s still holding my bouquet in one hand. His phone is in the other. He’s talking to someone as he watches the limo drive away, complete with the Just Married sign in the window.
I reach back and rip it down, tossing it on the floor of the car.
The man next to me skims his finger over the screen of his phone. “I went to the wrong damn church. What the hell is wrong with me?”
You’re drunk.
Those words play on my tongue, but I ignore them.
He smells delicious under the odor of something that I think is whiskey.
“Did you drink a lot today?” I ask as I tug at the front of my dress. “Why is it so hot in here?”
“The air conditioning is on its highest setting.” The driver pipes up from the front seat, his gaze glued to me in the rearview mirror.
“It must be broken.” I fan a hand in front of my face. “I have to get out of this dress.”
The stranger rakes me over. “I ruined your wedding. I fucking ruined your wedding. I was looking for Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn?” I ask, surprise edging my tone. “This is Manhattan. You’re in the wrong borough.”
He shakes his head. “That’s her name. Her name is Brooklyn, and she’s marrying him right now.”