Chapter Six
Lacey McPherson leaned back, propped her hands on the low white picket fence and surveyed the wedding reception before her with satisfaction. She’d pulled it off.
She’d given her beloved brother and his bride a wedding reception to remember, not letting her own antiromance attitude show. But she had to admit she’d be glad when her half-remodeled guesthouse stopped being a nest for lovebirds.
“Nothing like a spring wedding, eh, Lacey?”
She jumped, startled at the sound of the gruff, familiar voice right behind her. She spun around. “Vito D’Angelo, you scared me!” And then her eyes widened and she gasped. “What happened?”
His warm brown eyes took her back to her teen years. She’d been such a dreamer then, not good at navigating high school drama, and her brother’s friend had stepped in more than once to defend her from girls who wanted to gossip or boys who tried to take advantage. She and her brother had welcomed invitations to the D’Angelo family’s big, loud Italian dinners.
But now the most noticeable thing about his face wasn’t his eyes, but the double scar that ran from his forehead to his jawline. A smaller scar slashed from his lower lip to his chin.
Instinctively she reached out toward his face.
He caught her hand, held it. “I know. I look bad. But you should see the other guy.”
His attempt at a joke made her hurt more than it made her laugh. “You don’t look bad. It’s just...wow, they barely missed your eye.” Awkwardly, she tried to hug him with the fence in between.
He broke away and came inside through the open gate. “How’re you doing, Lace? At least you’re still gorgeous, huh? But you’re too thin.”
“You sound just like your grandma. And you’re late for the wedding.” Her heart was still racing from the surprise, both of seeing him and of how he looked.
She wanted to find out what had happened. But this wasn’t the time or the place.
“Buck won’t mind my being late. He looks busy.” Vito looked past the wedding guests toward Lacey’s brother, laughing and talking in the summer sun, his arm slung around his new bride. “Looks happy, too. Glad he found someone.”
A slightly wistful quality in Vito’s words made Lacey study her old friend. She hadn’t seen him in almost ten years, not since he’d brought his army buddy home on a furlough and Lacey had fallen hard for the handsome stranger who’d quickly become her husband. Back then, after one very stormy conversation, Vito had faded into the background. He’d been in the firestorm that had killed Gerry, had tried to save him and had written to Lacey after Gerry’s death. But he’d continued on with another Iraq tour and then another. She’d heard he’d been injured, had undergone a lot of surgery and rehab.
Looking at him now, she saw that he’d filled out from slim to brawny, and his hair curled over his ears, odd for a career military man. “How long are you home?”
“For good. I’m out of the army.”
“Out?” She stared. “Why? That was all you ever wanted to do!” She paused. “Just like Gerry.”
“I felt awful I didn’t make his funeral.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side. “Aw, Lace, I’m sorry about all of it.”
Her throat tightened and she nodded. Gerry had been dead for a year and a half, but the loss still ached.
A shout went up from the crowd and something came hurtling toward her. Instinctively she put her hands up, but Vito stepped in front of her, catching the missile.
Immediately, he turned and handed it to her.
A bouquet of flowers? Why would someone...
Oh. The bouquet. Gina’s.
She looked across the crowd at her friend, glowing in her pearl-colored gown. Gina kept encouraging Lacey to date again. Happily in love, she wanted everyone to share in the same kind of joy.
The crowd’s noise had quieted, and some of the guests frowned and murmured. Probably because Gina had obviously targeted Lacey, who’d been widowed less than two years ago. One of the older guests shook her head. “Completely inappropriate,” she said, loud enough for most of those nearby to hear.
Well, that wouldn’t do. Gina was a Californian, relatively new to Ohio and still finding her way through the unspoken rules and rituals of the Midwest. She hadn’t meant to do anything wrong.
Lacey forced a laugh and shook the bouquet threateningly at Gina. “You’re not going to get away with this, you know,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m passing it on to...” She looked around. “To my friend Daisy.”
“Too late.” Daisy waved a finger in front of her face and backed away. “You caught it.”
“Actually, Vito caught it,” old Gramps Camden said. “Not sure what happens when a man catches the bouquet.”
As the crowd went back
