Four Weddings and a Werewolf

“A pastor, huh?” Logan rested his arm on the back of Veronica’s barstool. “Do they make you take a vow of celibacy when you wear the cloth?”

“Celibacy is a personal choice.” Patrick glared. “Veronica, I have to thank you for contacting me,” Patrick said, scanning the dance floor. “I think this wedding makes ten I’ve ministered for Veronica Vale Weddings.”

“Eleven, if you count Leah’s.” She took a drink. “You’re already contracted for that one, and you can’t back out now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, placing a hand over his heart. “I love weddings. I’m honored to be a part of a couple’s special day.”

“That’s refreshing to hear.” Veronica looked up at Logan in amusement. “Don’t you think?”

“Honored,” Logan parroted, dramatically placing his hand over his chest to match the pastor’s. “Absolutely.”

Logan kept his gaze on the reverend, but brushed his hand up and down Veronica’s back. Her shoulders rolled beneath his touch, and she shot him a glare he didn’t understand. And although Logan wasn’t picking up scents that would set him off—other than the odd scent of something peppery, which wasn’t a cause for concern so much as it was disgustingly strong—he didn’t like Pastor Bennett. The guy was too damn… happy.

“I should probably take off.” Patrick folded his arms over his chest. “Will you be at the rehearsal Friday night?”

“Yes,” Logan and Veronica answered together, and she laughed.

Patrick stared, his gaze shifting from one to the other. “Wonderful. See you then.”

Logan watched the pastor leave the ballroom. “That guy’s a twit.”

“He’s not a twit.” Veronica turned back to the bar and nursed her drink. “He simply doesn’t like you. Can’t really fault him for that.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual.” Logan leaned over the bar and signaled the bartender. “You two close?”

“No. Not anymore, at least. We went to the same schools, and hung out off and on until our senior year. He moved and we lost touch after that, but when he came back to Seattle a few years later, he gave me a call. By then we’d grown apart and couldn’t find the time to catch up again.” She shrugged. “Guess that happens sometimes to childhood friends.”

“It does.” To humans. Growing up, Logan had wolf-pack friends and they were still thick as thieves, willing to do anything for one another. “How’d he end up working for your company?”

“When I started contracting pastors to officiate weddings, Leah remembered that he’d started walking the holy road. I asked him if he was interested, and he said yes.”

“I suppose you see a lot of him. Every weekend kind of thing?”

“That’s about right.” She took another, longer drink. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. Guinness,” Logan hollered to the bartender when he’d walked within earshot. That should help soothe his stomach pains. He turned to Veronica. “Another lemon drop?”

She kept her gaze on the dancing crowd in the center of the ballroom. “What are you trying to do, make me forget about what happened earlier? If that’s your play, I’m already working on it.”

“No, I was thinking I could get you tipsy.”

“I think I’m already there.” She giggled and took another drink.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “It’d be my honor to escort your cute, tipsy ass upstairs when tonight is over.”

Smiling, Veronica twisted her hips around. “My ass is only cute because of the dress. It flatters my problem areas.”

“I doubt that very much.” Logan tipped the bartender and took his drink. “Your figure’s perfect.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Veronica laughed, her smile lighting her whole face. “Now if I could only find a man who agrees with you.” Her gaze met his. “One who isn’t afraid of commitment. Seen any of those around here?”

“There aren’t many of those left in the wild, I’m afraid.” As the music softened to “Lady in Red,” Logan took a solid drink of his beer. The jealousy he felt minutes earlier dissipated, leaving a foreign feeling of tingly warmth stirring in his chest. He needed Veronica in his arms, tucked safely against him. “Do you dance, Miss Vale?”

She shook her head and licked the sugared rim of her glass. “Not while I’m working.”

“But you drink?” Logan’s legs went limp as he watched her tongue pull the sugar crystals back into her mouth.

“Heather and Leah are always telling me to loosen up, and it’ll be another hour before we have to start packing up the gifts. One drink won’t hurt.”

“Come on, dance with me,” he said. “I can call you Veronica if that makes you feel like you’re off the clock.”

She chugged her drink and then shrugged. “You know what, why the hell not?”

Chapter Eleven

Logan guided Veronica to the dance floor and then tugged her into his arms. She was warm to the touch, and fit into his body perfectly. They were heart to heart, and when Logan realized he could feel her heartbeat against his skin, he almost pulled away.

But he couldn’t force himself to do it.

“Why are you a commitment-phobe, Logan?” she asked, gazing over his shoulder. “Were you married before?”

“No, but my mother is a serial bride. At least she was when I knew her.” He fought to keep his hand still on her lower back. He longed to let it rest on her ass, or slide it up and tangle his fingers in her hair. “Each time she got married, she seemed happier at the wedding, and blindsided when they divorced. It was all a show. One big show for friends and family.”

Dancing in a slow rhythm, Logan spun Veronica around, and couldn’t help but notice the couples who looked genuinely happy. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be as happy as they pretended to be.

Veronica adjusted her arm over his shoulder to hold him tighter. Did she even realize it? Did she feel the same pull to him that he did to her?

“Some weddings are a show, yes,” she said, “but others are a true declaration of undying love. Maybe your mother hadn’t found the right person.”

“Most of the time there is no right person.” The words slipped out. “Just cardboard cutouts that people place beside themselves so they won’t feel lonely in their own skin.”

“Wow…you really think that?” She looked at him, piercing him with those big doe eyes. “You think the bride and groom at this wedding are lonely?”

His steps slowed. “They’re afraid to be alone. That’s exactly why I won’t ever get married. I’m not afraid of being alone…in fact, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone. I’d go nuts.”

Especially someone who would spend every spare second telling him how much she hated wolves. Fate had a whacked sense of humor.

“If you think that, then I’m sure your wish will come true.” Veronica’s hand drifted to the back of his neck. Chills gathered at the base of his skull as her fingers traced the edge of his hairline. “If there’s any fear, it’s not for being lonely. It’s fear of being vulnerable. Today is the day when they pledged their life to another. I think this is the day when this couple will love each other the most and— ”

“That’s bull,” Logan said, his feet going still. He gazed deep into Veronica’s eyes, unable to shake the feeling that she was pulling him in. “Their wedding day is the day they should love each other the least. Their love should build from here, not fade.”

Her lips parted, and her brown eyes sparkled.

Veronica rose up and caught his mouth, startling him. Her lips brushed his, a silky caress that forced Logan’s eyes to roll back and his hand to skate up her back. She shuddered beneath his touch, her body bending into his. His chest constricted as she breathed into the kiss, giving a little sigh of pleasure against his lips.