When Stars Collide (Second Chance Romance #2) - Sara Furlong-Burr Page 0,119

conversations with each other led me to conclude that they were her parents, sister, and niece, which also made them Luke’s relatives.

Luke cleared his throat, standing up from the table. “Now that everyone is here, I just want to say a few words.”

“Crap, that means we won’t be eating for another two hours,” Salvatore moaned.

“He really knows you well, doesn’t he?” added Peter.

Unamused, Luke shot them both some serious side-eye. “These two will be on a separate check.” He motioned at Peter and Salvatore, ensuring that the waitress, who was walking around the table filling champagne glasses, saw him. “Back to what I was going to say,” Luke began again. “First of all, Elle and I can’t thank you all enough for sharing these next few days with us. If you aren’t family by blood, you’re family by choice.”

“Hear, hear,” Candy added.

“It’s been a long journey for Elle and me to get to where we are today, full of twists and turns. The road has not been kind to us; but in the end, we made it through the storm and found each other on the other side.”

Next to me, listening to her love story reaching its climax, Elle became tearful. I probably would have started crying myself if not for the fact that, with Luke standing up, Peter was now front and center in my line of sight. Much like I had been watching Elle, Peter was captivated by Luke. But within seconds of my noticing him, he noticed me. Our eyes met, and it felt like we were the only two people in the room, if only for a moment.

Break eye contact, Mena!

Luke cleared his throat. “As Elle and I prepare for the next chapter of our lives, we would like to acknowledge each one of you. In your own way, everyone here has played a pivotal role in all of us being in this room right now, especially—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—Mena.”

However deep in thought I had been, the mention of my name pulled me back out of the trenches.

“If it hadn’t been for Mena’s … colorful and assertive way of handling life, we may never have gone out on that first date.”

“That’s for sure,” I replied, remembering the night they met at the coffee shop. Elle and I had gone there to study, not knowing that would be the night she would meet the love of her life. They were so taken with each other that neither one of them had wanted to make the first move. So, I took it upon myself to make that move for them.

Luke raised his glass, beckoning the rest of us to follow his lead. “Here’s to family, to friendship, to friends becoming family, but most of all, here’s to finding your one everlasting love.”

Echoing Luke’s sentiments, we took a sip from our champagne.

“Before the food arrives, Elle and I picked up a few gifts for our wedding party we’d like to pass around.”

On Luke’s cue, Elle reached inside of a bag hidden underneath the table, where she pulled out a stuffed tiger for the curly-haired girl, who would be acting as the flower girl, followed by an action figure for Jackson. She then removed eight small boxes, passing the groomsmen theirs and the bridesmaids ours. A box was also given to Alex and Candy.

“This is way too small to be a bottle of scotch,” Peter observed, shaking his gift near his ear.

Luke sighed. “Forgive me for getting you something meaningful. Just open the box.” Following Luke’s command, each of the groomsmen opened their gifts, revealing cufflinks engraved with their individual initials.

“I suppose if it couldn’t be scotch, these will do.” Peter inspected his cufflinks thoughtfully.

“These are really nice,” Connor added.

Salvatore nodded in agreement. “Yeah, so much better than whiskey.”

Luke shook his head. “Don’t worry, guys. Your bar tab is going to be on me tonight.”

“Oh, thank God!” the three of them exclaimed simultaneously.

“Elle, this is beautiful!” I turned my head to see Kirsten pulling a silver bar necklace from the box Elle had given to her.

“Geez, Kirsten. Self-control much?” Violet scolded, opening her box.

“Sorry, Daffodil. I didn’t know we were supposed to be opening them in some kind of order.”

“Hey, that’s Mena’s thing,” Violet admonished Kirsten, fastening the necklace she’d freed from her box around her neck.

I smiled, opening my gift to inspect my necklace, which was identical to Kirsten’s and Violet’s, except for one small detail. On the back of my bar, a message was inscribed:

My

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