Own the Eights Gets Married - Krista Sandor Page 0,77
to go all alpha CrossFit trainer.
“Fine, cover your eyes.”
“With my hands?” he asked.
“Yes, with your hands!” she answered, sharing an eye roll with the frau.
“What if I have to protect you from some lunatic driving around the foothills in a creepy van and, accidentally, look at you?” he pressed.
This was getting crazy. If anyone was about to look like a lunatic, it was a woman in full wedding attire, flagging down cars in the middle of nowhere.
“Close your eyes. I’m coming over,” she said as an idea popped into her head.
Georgie whipped open the curtain and feasted her eyes on her handsome fiancé.
“Wow, you look amazing!”
“Not too bad, right?” he answered, eyes closed.
“Here, I’ve got something that will prevent you from seeing me, even if you accidentally open your eyes.”
“What is it?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
She slid her dress up, removed the garter, then pulled it over Jordan’s eyes.
“There! I’m a MacGyver bride! That should keep you from seeing me.”
“What if the driver of the van is some nut?” he asked.
“Then, I’ll tell you, and you can slingshot my garter at him. Come on,” she said, taking him by the hand.
The van rumbled toward them, and she positioned herself right in its path. Waving wildly, she squinted, trying to read the lettering on the vehicle’s windshield, then froze.
It couldn’t be!
She narrowed her gaze, double-checking what she’d read.
“You are never going to believe this, Jordan!”
“What is it?” he questioned, looking side to side—for what reason, she didn’t know.
All the man could see was electric blue fabric and lace.
The van slowed, and the driver craned his head out of the window.
“Virginia?”
Georgie’s jaw dropped.
“Is that who I think it is?” Jordan asked, disbelief coating his words.
Georgie blinked once, then twice, and lo and behold, sitting in the driver’s seat of a Casey Pest Control van was the one and only, Brice Hannibal Casey.
“What are you doing out here?” Brice asked, getting out of the van.
She gestured to her dress. “We’re trying to get to our wedding.”
Brice sucked in a tight, cringeworthy breath. “Knotty Pines is closed. You can’t get married there. Plus, I was taking care of a little pest problem, and that ballroom is Dead Mouse City at the moment. Wait,” he said, glancing down the road that led to Buck and Syd’s place. “Are you getting married at the wilderness boot camp? Depending on how many guests you have, you’re going to be digging a lot of holes.”
Georgie gave the guy a placating grin. “No, we need to get to the Denver Botanic Gardens.”
Brice pushed up his cap and scratched his head. “What are you going to do there?”
God, bless him! This man was not the sharpest tool in the shed.
“We’re supposed to get married there. That’s why I’m in a wedding dress and Jordan’s in a tux.”
“Hey, man, looking good!” Brice said, unfazed, as if it were commonplace for him to run into people, sauntering around in bridal gear.
“Brice, can you drive us to Denver?” Jordan asked.
“Sure, but you’ve both got to ride in front. My equipment takes up the back,” he answered, pulling the cap back onto his head.
“Thank you! We’ll ride anywhere,” Georgie answered.
Never in her life did she think she’d be so happy to see Brice Casey.
The Lieblingsschatz wedding duo exited the RV and joined them on the road.
“We’ve got a car coming, but the driver says he’s fifteen minutes away,” Hans said.
Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s all right! We can all ride in Brice’s van.”
“Sorry, Virginia, no can do. Like I said, the back of the van is full. I can only fit two,” Brice replied.
The wedding frau hurried to the van’s passenger side door and gestured for them to get in. “You and Jordan need to go. My people are already at the venue. Everything will run like clockwork, and Hans and I will arrive as soon as we can.”
Georgie took Jordan’s hand and led him to the van.
“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Lieblingsschatz,” she said, growing emotional.
The wedding frau’s features softened. “You’re wearing my hairpin, Georgiana. I’m Cornelia to you now.”
Georgie reached out and squeezed the woman’s hand. “Thank you, Cornelia.”
The frau’s gaze grew glassy, but before a tear could be shed, she cleared her throat.
“You, pest control guy!”
Brice straightened up like a soldier. “Yes, ma’am!”
“You need to drive quickly, but you also need to drive safely. Can I trust you with this task?”
“Aye-aye, captain,” Brice answered, saluting the frau.
“I don’t want to see one wrinkle on that dress! Do