“Babe? You keep looking while I hit the men’s room.”
Lynn smiled sweetly. “Take your time, honey. I’m sure Junelle and I have plenty more to look at and decide on.”
“Sounds good.” He turned his gaze toward the older woman and asked, “Can you point me in the direction of the restrooms?”
“Yes, they’re just down the hall. The door to the chapel is on the right, and the restrooms are just a bit further on the left, down near the office.” Junelle sighed with exaggeration and smiled widely. “I can tell you hate to leave your beautiful bride for even a moment. That’s why I love my job!”
Giving in to the urge he’d had for a day, he tightened his grip on Lynn's shoulders and pulled her forward, kissing her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. He heard the sharp intake of breath and felt her body tense underneath his fingertips. The scent of her shampoo filled his senses, and he knew this had been a mistake. One kiss, even on her cheek, and he wanted more.
Straightening, he nodded toward Junelle before winking at Lynn. Turning, he walked toward the hall, the feel and taste of her skin still on his lips.
After a moment, Junelle received a phone call and she apologized. “I’m so sorry, but I need to take this.”
Glad for the excuse to be able to step away from the overwhelming wedding notebooks, Lynn smiled sweetly. “I’ll just run to the restroom also.”
She walked casually until she was out of Junelle’s sight and then she hustled down the hall, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Standing outside the restrooms, she was uncertain where Nolan was. Before she had a chance to ponder her next move, he stepped into the hall, his eyes widening when they landed on her.
“She got a phone call, so I decided to come see what you were doing,” she whispered.
He jerked his head down the hall to a partially-opened door. The nameplate next to the door listed ‘Errol Hightower – Owner’.
Curious, she walked closer to the door. “Honey, where’s the chapel?” she asked, her voice raised.
Gaining Nolan’s wide-eyed glare, she pushed the office door open slightly, seeing a man sitting at a desk. “Oh, excuse me. We were looking for the chapel.”
In two steps, Nolan had made it to her side, grabbing her hand and giving her fingers a squeeze. “Sweetheart, can’t you see this is an office and not a chapel?”
The man inside stood and walked toward them, a smile on his face. “Welcome. It’s just over there,” he said as he pointed toward the door clearly marked ‘Chapel’.
“Oh, my goodness,” Lynn said, rolling her eyes. “I thought the nice lady said it was at the end of the hall, and I wasn’t paying attention to the names on the doors at all. I’m so sorry to have disturbed you.”
“No forgiveness necessary,” the man said, his smile still firmly on his face. “I’m Errol Hightower, owner and manager of this lovely establishment. Am I to assume that you two are getting married?”
She hadn’t seen a picture of Mr. Hightower, but his appearance surprised her. For some reason, she had imagined him to be a paunchy, middle-aged man, perhaps with a comb-over or a slick pompadour. This man was nothing like that, other than his age. Tall and fit, his expensive suit was tailored just for him. With a white shirt and silk tie, he wore the boutonniere pinned to his lapel so well it didn’t seem overindulgent. His thick black hair was trimmed neatly, and a quick glance at his hands gave evidence to buffed fingernails.
Jolted back to the question asked, she nodded. “Oh, yes. We’re picking everything out today and will be back tomorrow for our wedding. We’re so lucky you have an opening.”
“Yes, business is booming. I’m sure Junelle will take very good care of you.”
“We’re going to go get our license right after this,” Nolan said, “Can you suggest a good place for lunch?”
Keeping her smile plastered on her face, she wondered about his question. Lunch?
Errol nodded enthusiastically. “Gatlinburg is full of wonderful places to eat. But one of the nicest is the Alamo steakhouse. I have a standing lunch meeting with some old friends there every Wednesday. Best steak in the mountains.”
“I’m so sorry to have had that phone call interrupt our meeting,” Junelle interrupted as she walked to the entrance to the hall.
Lynn looked up at Nolan. “Oh, honey, let’s finish picking everything out.” With a parting smile toward Errol, she added, “It was lovely to meet you.” Her hand was taken by Nolan’s and they followed Junelle back to the front, settling in once more to continue planning.
An hour later, they walked out of the wedding chapel, fingers linked as they headed toward his truck. They climbed inside the vehicle and sat for a moment in silence. Staring out the window, she let out a long breath. “I’m exhausted. Who knew how tiring that was going to be? And weird… just weird.”
She felt his eyes on her, but not giving him a chance to say anything, continued, “I always figured that one day it would be very exciting to plan for my wedding, never dreaming that I would be doing it for a fake wedding.”
He reached over and placed his hand on her leg, the warmth of his touch searing through her. “I’m sorry, Lynn.”
Looking toward him, she saw the crease in his forehead as he stared at her, concern etched in his gaze. Her heart clenched but she had no idea why. “Oh, I’m just being silly. I guess we need to get to the office to pick up our wedding license, don’t we?”
“Yeah, and then let’s get some lunch. We can plan the next part based on what we learned today.”
“Did we truly learn anything today other than where his office is?”
His grin curled around her heart. “Oh, yeah, babe. We definitely learned some things.”
He started the truck and they rumbled down the road toward the Gatlinburg office. She wondered if he even realized he’d called her babe when they were alone. For a guy like him, it’s probably a throwaway. She just wished she didn’t like hearing it so much.
7
Parking outside the marriage license office in Gatlinburg, Nolan was surprised at the small, nondescript, brick building. After having just been at the elaborate chapel, it struck him that the office was simply a small town’s government building and not part of the money-making wedding businesses in the Smokies.
“You okay?”
Lynn’s voice cut through his musings and he jerked his head around to find her staring intently at him. “Yeah, yeah, fine.”
“It’s surreal, I know,” she said, her eyes warm on him. “Hopefully, this won’t take long and we can get you fed.”
Brow scrunching, he cocked his head slightly to the side in silent questioning.
Her smile widened before a giggle burst out. “Your stomach was growling while we were in there. I figured you must be starving.”
“Hey, I’m just a growing boy,” he laughed, loving the way her face lit with mirth.
They held gazes for a moment before both turned toward the windshield and grew quiet. She sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
“Ready?”