Fool for You (Southern Bride #7) - Kelly Elliott Page 0,73

gave him the answer that was in my heart. “I won’t.”

He turned, and our eyes locked. “Promise me.”

I swallowed hard and rolled onto my side, the evidence of his presence still in my body. “I promise you, Landon. I’ll never leave.”

He pulled me on top of him, and we kissed as if it were the first time. It was slow and soft. Deep and oh-so meaningful.

Landon rolled me over and slowly made love to me until we were so spent that we fell asleep in each other’s arms, too exhausted to even get up and shower. Landon had used the tissues by his bed to do his best to clean us both off before he pulled me into his arms and held me like he was afraid I would sneak away.

I fell asleep to the soft sounds of his breathing and the beating of his heart against my body.

Emmerson

A LOT HAD happened in the two weeks since Landon threw up at Sweet Confections bakery. We had decided not to let Aunt Autumn throw us an engagement party as it just didn’t feel right, but we did have a huge family barbecue, which honestly was so much more fun.

Hailey was actually doing better than any of us thought she would. There was a time or two she broke down and cried right after the breakup, but the past week she had decided that fate had stepped in and stopped her from making a mistake. “Better to find out now versus when I’m pregnant with his child,” she’d said with a smile that had finally touched her eyes.

Landon had hired on a few more guys to help at the shop since they’d been getting so much more interest from people looking to restore their cars or trucks. Plus, Landon and I made sure that we spent every spare moment we had away from work together. The last two weeks were crazy but filled with so much happiness.

It was the busy season for me with a wedding every weekend, and the fall wedding planning was really picking up more. My business was going strong, and I was turning down potential couples nearly every day.

Today I was touring a venue with my clients, Tim and Miranda. It was an adorable place right outside of Hamilton. The couple who owned it had ten acres of land, where they had built a small church and a reception building that housed around two-hundred people. The church sat up on a hill that had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the Hill Country. But it could only hold thirty-six people, which was a problem for Miranda, who wanted to have sixty people at the wedding ceremony.

“Why can’t we just invite less people to the wedding, Miranda?” Tim asked, annoyance heavily lacing his voice.

Miranda turned and glared at her future husband. “Less people? I’m already making an exception by only inviting sixty, and now you want me to cut that in half?”

“You could always invite more to the reception,” I stated from where I was leaning against a wall, trying to stay out of the way. I hated to interfere, but I was feeling sorry for the way Miranda was looking at Tim. I usually kept my thoughts to myself until either the groom or the bride asked for them.

Miranda sighed and then turned to face me. “I want to go and look at the venue you and Landon looked at last weekend; the one you talked about on Instagram.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise before I got my shit together, pushed off the wall, and cleared my throat. “Um, Miranda, that venue is not in your budget.”

The venue Landon and I had visited last weekend was another one of those places my clients didn’t really know about, and so of course I had to see it. After I’d posted the video of our cake tasting—cropping out the part where Landon threw up—everyone begged me to post more about our wedding planning. They loved how real the whole thing was and how I didn’t sugarcoat it to make it seem like everything had gone off without a flaw. It was real life, and people seemed to want real life. They couldn’t get enough of Landon’s humor, or the fact that he had wanted to move it along so he could simply eat the cupcakes. Even the owner of the bakery informed me that people had been stopping by to see the place where Landon Lewis lost his cookies…err, cupcakes…or to put