The Small Town Preacher's Fake - Lucy McConnell Page 0,6

couples came through here? Surely there were some who were too eager to wait for a church wedding with all the trappings.

She’d once dreamed of a beach ceremony, with nothing between her and her husband and God but surf and sky. Those dreams had died—killed off by Owen’s betrayal. In a weird way, she was okay with that. Trading one dream for another wasn’t so bad, and becoming a preacher’s wife was a grand adventure.

Hannah Stevenson had been the wife of her preacher growing up. The woman was giving and always had it together. Her long brown hair fell in gentle beach waves, and she had a cute wardrobe—professional yet fun with skirts that looked a lot like the one Evie had picked this morning. Hannah had answers for every question, whether it be scriptural, spiritual, or about life in general. She’d been a beacon for the teen girls to look up to—someone Evie would try to emulate as she stepped into this new role, though she doubted her ability to meet the standard Hannah set.

The receptionist handed the guy a clipboard. “Fill this out and have a seat. The judge will be back soon. You’re in line after her.” She pointed her pen at Evie, and the man turned.

Evie ducked her head, embarrassed to be caught watching him. She filled in her driver’s license number on the form and left the one for her intended’s ID number blank.

The man came and stood by her legs, where she could clearly see his shiny brown shoes just over the edge of her paperwork. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

She followed his legs up to his lean torso, then up his blue striped tie, and finally met his dark chocolate gaze. He was handsome. So much more so than Owen. She’d thought Owen’s chiseled jaw and prominent cheekbones made him irresistible, but his lies told another story.

This guy had a nice jaw too, but his face was rounder, less harsh. He had medium brown hair that stood up in the front. But it was his eyes that caught hold of her and wouldn’t let go. Dark brown and full of warmth, they caused her to feel as though he were the first person to ever look—really look—at her.

“May I sit here?”

She blinked at the casualness of his question. Here she’d been drowning in his gaze, sinking into the depths of his soul, and he wanted to sit. “Of course.” She pulled her purse closer to her thigh and scooted over to make room for him.

“Thank you.” His voice was nice, the kind that could project across the room and make every person in it think they were talking right to him.

Or maybe that was just how it worked on her.

She shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the growing sense of awareness when it came to her bench partner. She was getting married today—she shouldn’t be having these feelings for a stranger. And if she was, should she be getting married?

Ack! There were so many questions. But it was too late. She would not walk out and leave Seth at the—well, not altar, but the judge’s chambers. That was low. Maybe she could confide some of her worries in him—perhaps he had a few of his own.

The man let out a low groan. As much as she was trying not to notice how nice he smelled—clean with a hint of manliness—she couldn’t ignore the way it made her stomach swirl.

“Is everything okay?” she barely whispered. She should not engage him in conversation. He just sounded upset, and she’d always been a sucker for someone in need.

He half smiled her direction. “I don’t have half this information. I was hoping to get the paperwork done before my fiancée arrived.”

He was getting married too. Probably to a stunning brunette with eyes as dark as his. They’d have beautiful babies and travel the world, taking pictures of them in front of landmarks. She shook the image from her mind, because she’d inserted herself in that picture—and the kids were blond like her.

She needed to get a grip. It wasn’t like she was a free woman who could eye up any man who sat next to her. “Don’t worry. I don’t have much more done than you.” She lifted her clipboard to show him so he wouldn’t feel so bad.

He glanced over it and chuckled. “Evie Williams?”

She bit her lip. Moose Hollow was large in some ways and small in others. Was this one of Owen’s buddies? Would the

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