When Stars Collide (Second Chance Romance #2) - Sara Furlong-Burr Page 0,4
flight got in.”
“And here I thought that bulge in your pants was because of me.”
“Ellen Rae Sloan …”
“Yes! Oh my God, Luke, yes!”
“Will you marry me?”
Elle jumped into Luke’s arms, toppling him over in the sand. Their bodies shook—a combination of laughter and tears. Peter and I rose to our feet at the top of the dune and watched them like proud parents, letting them have what was undoubtedly the happiest moment of both of their lives up to that point, all to themselves. Only eighteen months ago, I wouldn’t have thought this scenario possible. Now, it all seemed so surreal, like I was in a dream where fairy tales came true and happily ever afters were guaranteed. After all they’d been through—hell, after all the four of us had been through—we deserved to have a moment like this.
“It’s about time you stopped giving that milk away for free,” I called out to Elle. Arm in arm, Peter and I traversed our way down the dune. “My God, I’m so happy for you.” I bent down to drape my arms around her, allowing her excitement to flow through my body like a current.
Elle wiped tears away from her eyes. “You’re going to be my maid of honor, right?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, was there someone else in the running? Of course I will. And with Peter as Luke’s best man, this wedding will be one big, sickening ball of matrimonial bliss.”
“You do know that the best man routinely gives speeches at these things, right?” Peter added.
I nodded. “As does the maid of honor.”
Elle and Luke froze, stealing a glance at each other.
“They’re right,” Luke muttered as though the thought had just struck him over the head. “Perhaps, we should think this one through some more?” He smiled conspiratorially at Elle, who echoed his expression.
“Sure, you could do that,” I agreed, “then Peter and I wouldn’t feel pressured to stay sober during the ceremony.”
“What makes you think we assumed you were going to be sober, anyway?” Luke countered.
“Touché.”
Peter slapped Luke on the shoulder. “I know it’s kind of early in the game, but do you have any idea when this shindig is going to take place?”
Luke smiled at Elle, resting his hand on hers. “If I have my way, the sooner the better.”
“I agree.” Elle smiled back at Luke, completely oblivious to the world.
“Aw … you guys are gross. What month is soon in, anyway?” I turned to Peter inquisitively.
He shrugged. “Falltober? Winterary?”
Elle peered at Luke, perhaps attempting to read his thoughts via eye contact. “I’m thinking more during the warmer months. Spring or summer?”
“If you say June, I’m withdrawing from this wedding. Everyone gets married in June,” I interceded, shuddering as I remembered the three weddings I’d attended in New York in June this year alone.
“For once, I agree with Mena.” Luke nodded in my direction.
“There really is a first time for everything.” Peter smiled.
Luke appeared thoughtful as he spoke, “What do you think about May?”
“May,” Elle repeated Luke in such a way that I couldn’t tell whether it was a statement or a question.
“It’s a month rife with pain for the both of us. A wedding—our wedding—could really turn it around.”
Elle reached up and brushed Luke’s chin with her thumb, leaving granules of sand stuck in his stubble. “May it is.” Her eyes widened suddenly. “Wait … May! That’s less than a year from now. Nine months, to be exact. There’s so much to do before then.” She jumped to her feet, her excitement and anxiety joining forces to propel her off the ground. “Mena, I’m going to need your help. There’s the venue, the caterers, the DJ, the flowers—”
“And the booze, which I think I was promised before Luke put a ring on it.” I rested my hand on Elle’s shoulder. “We have time. Plenty of it. A lot can happen in nine months. An entire pregnancy, for example.” I nudged her playfully with my elbow.
“Well, when you put it that way … but we really need to get started soon.”
“And we will, just as soon as we get those drinks.”
Luke stood up and brushed the sand from the back of his shorts. “Well, it seems as though the world has completely been turned upside down, because for the second time in less than five minutes, I’m in complete concurrence with Mena.”
“Then it’s settled,” Peter clapped his hands, “let’s get this party started.”
*****
“It’s meant metaphorically, not literally.” I stumbled over the threshold of our suite into Peter’s outstretched arms,