Best Man For The Wedding Planner. DONNA ALWARD

mug instead of a paper cup. He moved into position at the front, standing next to Pete, while the ushers took their places to his left. She took a sip and then put the mug down on a small table at the back, rolled her shoulders and gave the flautist a nod.

      When the opening bars of Gounod’s Ave Maria sounded, she slipped out the door.

      Then the doors opened—both sides—and the first bridesmaid entered, her hair perfect, smile wide, her navy dress rippling along the carpet runner. Then the next bridesmaid and the maid of honor, all carrying identical bouquets of mostly white blooms with silvery accents. Looking around at the twinkly trees, flowers, chairs and other preparations, Dan started to understand exactly how much planning went into a wedding day, and how Adele had taken Holly’s vision of her magical day and made it a reality. A new respect for her blossomed. She was good at this. Really good.

      The music changed, shifting to Pachelbel’s Canon, and Holly stepped inside the doors.

      A collective gasp went up from the guests, and one glance at Pete told Dan his best friend was a goner. Pete’s hands were folded in front of him, but Dan saw the fingers clench and release several times as Holly started her walk up the aisle. And when Pete’s eyes misted over, Dan reached inside his pocket and took out a pristine white handkerchief. When he handed it over, an emotional laugh fluttered across the room, making the vibe suddenly very warm and personal.

      He looked to the back of the room and saw Adele standing there, a satisfied smile on her face.

      He gave her a brief nod before turning back to the ceremony.

      And yet, as the people he cared about said their I dos, as he handed over the wedding band and signed the register, he couldn’t stop a hole from opening in his chest. This should have been them. It would have been them, if it had been his choice. And maybe it was better this way. Maybe she’d known something he didn’t, and they wouldn’t have lasted. Not getting married had to be better than going through with it and divorcing later.

      But for the first time in several years, he came face-to-face with the fact that he’d never gotten over her. And now he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

      * * *

      Relief was the only emotion Adele felt right now.

      She had twenty-five whole minutes during the ceremony to sit down at the back of the room, out of sight, and sip her tea, which was miraculously still hot. One of the waitresses for the cocktail hour had noticed her sniffling and had brought her a fresh cup, a very thoughtful gesture and one of the reasons Adele loved having events at the Fiori Cascade. Luca, Mariella and their team did a fabulous job.

      But once she got through her mental checklist for the ceremony, making sure nothing needed the smallest tweak, she found her mind wandering to Dan.

      His help and concern today had been utterly unexpected, but he had backed off instead of pressing the issue like he had last night. Of course, he’d made it plain he was doing it for Pete, and not for her. Still, he didn’t have to. And then that moment when he’d put his hand on her arm...there’d been something. Something that was impossible to ignore, even though she knew she should.

      But again...she’d never stopped caring about him. So maybe she should stop thinking and just give herself a break. It was natural for feelings to crop up, wasn’t it?