I look around the party, taking in the familiar faces of my friends, and my stomach cramps.Every single one of them is here with their husband, fiancé, or boyfriend.It’s been like this for the last few weddings, but I could overlook it.Now it’s getting to be too much.
I can’t do it.I can’t be the only single person at yet another wedding.
I feel sick as I look around again.The party is winding down, and I decide to sneak out.I’ll go to the market and grab some ice cream, then head back to my apartment.
With my plan in place, I finish my champagne and slip outside, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.The Wolf Valley Market is a block down, and I pick up my pace as the wind kicks up.The cool air helps to sober me up.I didn’t drink much, but I also worked late and skipped dinner, so the few glasses of champagne hit me harder than they should have.
I shudder as I walk into the market and the warm air hits me.Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I grab a basket and beeline for the frozen aisles.I need to get my ice cream and then get home.
I think about the wedding as I head down the aisle.As the owner of a bridal boutique, I’ve always loved weddings.The romance and love, the promises of forever, the bride looking like a princess as she walks down the aisle to her doting partner.I love all of it.
But in the last few years, that’s changed.It’s fun being at a wedding, but once all your friends settle down, things aren’t the same anymore.Everyone dances with each other, and everyone is seated with their partners.
Then there’s me.
What can I do, though?I’m not skipping my friends’ weddings.
I need to find someone of my own, but that’s easier said than done.No one has ever made me feel the spark that my friends describe.I’ve never bothered with dating and all that.I was focused on my business instead.Now I’m kind of regretting that.
No, this wedding is going to be different,I decide.I’m going to have a date for this one.
I just have no idea who yet.
I turn down the ice cream aisle and smile when I see my favorite double dough flavor.I grab two pints and am about to turn for the registers when I see someone at the end of the aisle.
I don’t know what it is about the man, but he snags my attention, and I can’t look away.
He’s tall, way taller than my own 5’4”.He’s glaring at the frozen meals as if they’ve personally offended him, and I bite back a giggle.
His dark brown hair is shaggy on top and slightly wavy.Some of the strands fall over his forehead.His nose has a slight bump in it, like it’s been broken a time or two.His jawline looks like it was chiseled from marble.
He crosses his arms over his chest, and dear sweet baby Jesus, he’s ripped.The muscles in his arms and back flex, and my mouth waters at the sight.
For the first time in my life, I’m attracted to someone.
I smile as I square my shoulders and march his way.
Looks like I’ve figured out who’s going to be my date,I think with a smirk.
TWO
Rune
I hate frozen meals.I hate them more than anything.Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been great in the kitchen.I spent most of my life learning other skills—like how to shoot a gun, how to fight, and how to parachute out of an airplane.
Those were all useful when I was in the military, but now that I’m out, I’m finding that they don’t come in handy too often in civilian life.
These days, I manage the Wolf Valley Lumberyard.It’s long days out in the forest or in my office.Again, I don’t need my skills for that either, but it’s kind of been a dream job so far.I’m surrounded by nature, and I’m in charge.I spend my days alone for the most part.I have people under me, but they’re busy with their own stuff all day.
I bought a cabin a few miles south of the lumberyard, and I split my time between work and home.I only come into town for groceries and other supplies, and I’ve worked it out so I only have to make the trip twice a month.I come down, stock up on TV dinners and the essentials, then I’m good for two weeks.
I glare at the now-familiar rows of frozen meals.I’ve tried every single one of them in the last six months, and I know which ones are good and which ones suck.Right now, none of them sound appetizing.Still, they’re better than trying to cook something for myself or driving into town for takeout every night.
Opening the first cooler door, I grab four lasagnas, two Salisbury steaks, and some pot pies.I’m reaching for the chicken Alfredo when I see someone heading my way out of the corner of my eye.
I look up and lock eyes with an angel.
My breath stalls in my lungs, and I freeze in place, watching as she walks right up to me.