He waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry—I’ve seen it all before out here. There’s something about this parking lot and soon-to-be newlyweds. It, uh,” he cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, “it has an effect on people.”

All three laughed, and before she could even think to correct him for the misunderstanding, he was gesturing them inside and disappearing behind the door.

“Do you want me to tell him who we are?” Maddie asked as they made their way inside to meet him.

She shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. This is the last one, so we might as well keep up the charade.”

Maddie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean ‘the last one’? We still have all sorts of places to go tomorrow and later this week.”

She opened her mouth to explain, then shut it, shaking her head. “Never mind. My mistake.” She didn’t want to get into the fact that she was leaving soon.

Maddie frowned, but she seemed to have let it go by the time they got inside. A long, narrow table was set up in this small front room, the young man they’d seen on the far side. He gestured to the two seats across from him, and before they sat down, Maddie took their coats and hats to the rack. She was always doing that for her, Ryann realized, smiling at the idea of being cared for in that way—silently and without explanation or motive. The young man caught this secret smile and winked at her before Maddie joined them again, and her face reddened at being caught.

“Okay,” he said, bowing dramatically. “I’m Giorgio, and welcome to Love Bites.”

She snorted at the name, and Maddie squeezed her hand a little roughly under the edge of the table to silence her.

“I understand the two of you are under a bit of a time constraint, which means we have to do all of this today. Any dietary restrictions?”

“I don’t eat a lot of pork, but I will today if it makes things easier,” Ryann said. “Otherwise, no.”

“I’m wide open,” Maddie added.

“I hate to say it, but good!” Giorgio laughed. “And I hope you both came hungry. We’re going to begin with the hors d’oeuvres.”

He clapped twice, and several catering staff appeared from two doors behind him, all carrying small silver trays of food. Eventually ten trays were set on Giorgio’s side of the table, each with two of everything on it—one for each of them to try. The last staff member dropped off a pile of tiny plastic forks, and soon the three of them were alone again.

“How many do we choose for a wedding?” she asked him.

“As many as you like,” he replied.