“Hell yeah, it is.” Her news gives me a second wind. “Babe, this is fucking fantastic.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but who am I kidding, right?”

“Hope is all you have right now. Give up on that and you might as well give up altogether.”

“I just have a really good feeling.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it sends a burst of warmth shooting through my chest.

“Cling to it.”

“Lyle,” she rasps.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re my good luck charm.”

“Oh yeah?” I sink deeper into the mattress, “Why’s that?”

“A week ago, my life was in shambles, and from the second I opened that door and saw your face, it’s just steadily gotten better.”

“It’s kismet.”

“Huh?”

“The universe rewards what’s right,” I explain. “It’s like destiny.”

“I like that. It’s beautiful.”

“Embrace the good and keep focusing on the future,” I slur, the booze starting to pull me under. “I have a feeling it’s only up from here.”

Chapter Ten

“Sammi, your groom is waiting downstairs,” Mom says, tapping a knuckle lightly on my bedroom door. “You have to be at the courthouse in thirty minutes. What’s taking so long?”

“Hey,” I say, cracking it open just a smidge. “Can you send him up here really quick? I need to talk to him about something.”

“Okay.” My mother worries her lip between her teeth. “Everything all right?” She reaches in, brushing three fingers through the hair framing my face. “You look so beautiful, sweet girl.”

“Thanks.” I draw a deep breath. “I’m okay. Just have something I need to get off my chest.”

Mom’s eyes grow wide as saucers, no doubt recalling what happened the last time I had to clear my conscience right before a wedding. I mean, it was just a week ago. I think we’re all still a little traumatized. “Can’t whatever this is wait?”

“It can’t.” I leave it at that, pleading with my eyes for her not to press the issue further.

“One groom, coming right up.” She leaves me with a tense smile, one that echoes the lava roiling in my gut.

She isn’t gone a full minute when Lyle peers his head into my childhood bedroom. He wastes no time with knocking, just slips right in, looking like he’s come straight from a red-carpet event.

One look at him and I’ve managed to forget how to breathe.

The man’s always been easy on the eyes, but Lyle Livingston in a suit is a sight to behold.

Temporarily rendered mute, I look him over, allowing myself a moment to relish the view.