Page 12 of The Wedding Run (The Wedding Letter #1)

Libby

L uke battens down the hatches, placing my suitcase in the truck’s cab and making sure the windows are rolled up tight. We are the only customers at the Whistle While You Work carwash.

I slide quarters into the slot. “Women everywhere,” I tease, “must be crying in their coffee, believing you’re off the market.”

“They’re crying if they’re drinking instant."

Unexpected laughter bursts out of me. It garners a curious look from Luke.

“Too bad Jazz couldn’t help with the tea,” he says. “You okay about it?”

I nod, pushing away the disappointment. “She identified one type. Sort of.”

“Crappie?” he jokes.

I laugh again. It feels good, like a release.

He gives me a sidelong glance. “Libby, you don’t have to help Andrea with her wedding. If it’s too much after all you’ve been through.”

“I don’t mind. It’s what I’m good at. And it’s a nice distraction.”

“I do appreciate it,” he says. “She’s been unbelievably stressed. And I’m at a loss. Never had a wedding in The Brew before.”

“Most brides are overwhelmed. They’ve been dreaming of their wedding day since they were little girls. It’s normal for their hopes to be high. Add that to promising to love and honor till death they do part… well, it adds to the stress level.”

“Better step back,” he warns, sending water spray across the hood. Water hits metal and glass, making a hissing sound. Droplets fly about, and I ease back another step or two.

A strange realization hits me. “This is something Derek would do.”

Luke moves the sprayer along the truck’s bumper. “Wash my truck? I doubt it.”

“Telling the other groomsman to decorate your truck.”

Luke releases the nozzle, and the spray stops. “I should have figured. We used to prank each other all the time in college.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“We both took the lottery for roommates our freshman year. Didn’t know each other. He seemed nice enough. We hung out some at dinner. But mostly, we went our separate ways. When I had a date with the one and only MaryBeth Hollingsworth?—”

I gasp. “Not the MaryBeth Hollingsworth!”

His mouth quirks sideways at my sarcasm.

“Must be someone significant to those of you who were Bulldogs,” I add.

“It’s Dawgs, by the way. And MaryBeth was the most sought-after girl on campus. Not just by guys but by all the sororities. She was a beauty queen in Arkansas.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Arkansas is known for its beauty pageants.”

He shoots a spray of water in my direction, making me squeal.

“As I was saying,” he continues, “I was getting ready for what I hoped was my hot date when Derek told me MaryBeth left a message and requested we meet at the library. Like a dork, I went to the library while Derek went on my date.”

“That’s terrible!” I exclaim. “And yet so like him.”

Luke grins to show he’s long over the loss of MaryBeth. “I learned my lesson. But from then on, all bets were off.”

“How did you seek your revenge?”

He glances over his shoulder and then edges closer as if it’s a national secret on par with who killed JFK and where the government keeps alien spaceships.

“For starters,” he whispers, “I bought a universal remote. Every time he watched golf on that fancy TV he’d set up in our dorm room, aimed at his side, I might add, I secretly changed the channel. ”

“Nice.” I grin.

“You say ‘nice’ like you won a gold medal.”

“Yeah.”

He nods as if he’s filing away that piece of information.

I realize he’s remembering my comments about his coffee, and I aim to distract his analysis. “I can’t think of a better way to get back at Derek. He loves his golf. Wish I’d had a universal remote on a few occasions.”

“Took a while for him to figure it out.” Luke’s frat-boy smile probably curled a few toes when he was in college. Not that it has any effect on me.

I don’t want to get distracted, so I ask, “Did you ever steal his date?”

“I’ll never tell.” He sprays my feet.

I jump back. “Hey!”

But it comes as more of a giggle than irritation.

“Made you laugh. And you have a nice laugh, Libby.” The dip in his voice sends a ripple along my spine. But the look on his face makes me think he surprised himself.

"Nice, huh?"

“I mean, Derek always told me you had a great… well, you know… laugh. He was right. He was very accurate in his description of you.”

“Even about how I micro-manage?” I joke, not quite letting him off the hook. After all, he doesn’t know I’m seeking my own kind of revenge.

“I haven’t seen that aspect of you yet. Other than the list you gave me at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Wait until I get started with Andrea’s wedding.”

“Micro-manage away. I see that as a total asset,” he counters, “not a flaw.”

I rub at the lopsided heart drawn on the passenger window.

“What about you, Luke? Do you play the field, so to speak? You know, over in Alabama or Tennessee. I noticed Jazz said she fixed you a special tea. Are you seeing her?” I glance in his direction and offer a flirty smile.

“Or are you still aflutter over MaryBeth Hollingsworth?”

“MaryBeth left school and married her high school sweetheart. Last I heard, she had five kids. But she still has all of her teeth.”

I laugh again.

He steps closer, and my laughter fades. He scrapes at the shoe-polished heart with his thumbnail. I find myself staring at the seam of his jacket where his muscles bunch and flex. His nearness makes my skin tingle. Then his gaze captures mine. I feel a fluttering in my abdomen.

“So, you are seeing Jazz?” I ask, my voice too high and eager to know.

“Nah, we’re old friends. She made me tea to show me it would be a nice addition to my shop. Gotta have something to offer the non-coffee drinkers.” Then he leans close, so close I can smell his cologne, which has a woodsy scent. “We need soap.”

“What?”

“We’re going to need soap to get this off. Just add more quarters and punch the button.”

I move toward the tailgate, dig into my pocket for coins, but find none. “All out. Can you grab some from the dash?”

He places the sprayer in its holder. Rounding the cab to the driver’s side, he leans inside for more change.

When he shuts the cab door, he returns to my side of the truck, pops in the quarters, and pushes the button.

When he reaches for the sprayer, which is now safely in my hands, he looks in my direction.

His blue eyes widen in surprise. I smile.

We need cooling off, I decide as I warn, “Watch out!”

And I start spraying.