The Wedding Catch Read online

  Table of Contents

  Praise for Susan Hatler’s Work

  Titles by Susan Hatler

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  THE WEDDING CATCH

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About the Author

  Titles by Susan Hatler

  “I couldn’t help but smile and laugh at the antics that Ben and Sarah go through. I’m so excited for this whole series!”

  — Katie’s Clean Book Collection re The Wedding Charm

  “Ms. Hatler has a way of writing witty dialogue that makes you laugh-out-loud throughout her stories.”

  — Night Owl Reviews

  “I am a huge fan of Susan Hatler!!! I have yet to read a book I did not absolutely love!”

  — Tifferz Book Reviewz

  “Hatler is my go-to girl for a sizzling clean romance with swoon-worthy kisses!”

  — Books Are Sanity!!!

  “Susan Hatler writes books that sit right in my sweet spot and make me happy.”

  — Getting Your Read On Reviews

  “An Unexpected Date is a wonderful and perfect release to a stressful or crazy day.”

  — Cafè of Dreams Book Reviews

  Titles by Susan Hatler

  Christmas Mountain Clean Romance Series

  The Christmas Compromise

  Do-Over Date Series

  Million Dollar Date

  The Double Date Disaster

  The Date Next Door

  The Wedding Whisperer Series

  The Wedding Charm

  The Wedding Catch

  My Wedding Date

  The Wedding Bet

  Kissed by the Bay Series

  Every Little Kiss

  The Perfect Kiss

  Just One Kiss

  The Sweetest Kiss

  A Christmas Kiss

  All About That Kiss

  Forever in a Kiss

  A Kiss for Santa

  Better Date than Never Series

  Love at First Date

  Truth or Date

  My Last Blind Date

  Save the Date

  A Twist of Date

  License to Date

  Driven to Date

  Up to Date

  Déjà Date

  Date and Dash

  Treasured Dreams Series

  An Unexpected Date

  An Unexpected Kiss

  An Unexpected Love

  An Unexpected Proposal

  An Unexpected Wedding

  An Unexpected Joy

  An Unexpected Baby

  Young Adult Novels

  Shaken

  See Me

  The Crush Dilemma

  The Wedding Catch

  Copyright © 2018 by Susan Hatler

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  _________________________________________

  Cover Design by Elaina Lee, For The Muse Design

  www.forthemusedesign.com

  ** To receive a FREE BOOK, click the following link now to sign up for Susan’s Newsletter: susanhatler.com/newsletter **

  Dedication

  To Ann Rego,

  who is always there for me.

  Love you bazillions.

  THE WEDDING CATCH

  Susan Hatler

  Chapter One

  Maybe I should have a tattoo etched across my forehead with the words “emotionally unavailable,” because I am so not interested in a permanent commitment with a man. You’d think that would make me the dating catch of the decade, but it actually seemed to bother the guys I went out with. Go figure.

  Weren’t guys supposed to be the ones always looking to avoid commitment? Why did I seem to be the master at finding those needles in the haystack who wanted to lock me down? Take Lance, for example. We’d had fun over the last few weeks, but it wasn’t like I had the urge to pick out a china pattern. Ever. So when he’d told me he wanted to break up, had I gotten upset? Nope. I’d shrugged. Then he’d gotten upset.

  Had he seriously expected me to fall over myself, gasping and wailing and pulling at my hair? Should I have begged him to stay, to please, oh, please stay?

  Yeah, right.

  The last thing I wanted was permanent commitment with him. That would require trusting a man again, and after what had happened to me last year, I didn’t know if that would ever happen.

  My friend Melinda Morgan, on the other hand, had come into the bakery where we worked this morning to announce her engagement to Nate Carter and the not-so-small fact that they would be tying the knot in two weeks.

  “Avery. Did you hear me?” Melinda asked, as if I didn’t need more than two seconds to process what she’d just said.

  “Come again?” I blinked, staring at Melinda as I shoved a tray of croissant dough into the oven. Technically, Melinda was my boss since she’d bought Bernie’s Bakery over a year ago when he’d retired. But Melinda treated me as a friend first and her bakery manager second, which was pretty much the way I liked it. “It sounded like you said you and Nate are getting married in only two weeks?”

  “That’s right.” Melinda nodded her pretty blonde head and then extended her left hand to show off the ring on her fourth finger, a solitary black pearl sitting on a thick platinum band. “Nate got the black pearl himself when he went diving in Bora Bora last month. Isn’t that beyond romantic? He gave it to me last night.” Her voice had taken on a dreamy tone, and I half-expected her to clasp her hands to her chest and bat her eyelashes.

  “And here I got dumped last night,” I said, taking hold of her hand so I could get a closer look at the engagement ring. It was pretty enough, but only symbolized danger to me. One woman’s idea of a romantic gesture was another woman’s greatest nightmare. Shudder.

  Melinda gasped, and her dreamy expression changed into one of a woman who had just stepped in something stinky. “You and Lance broke up? I’m so sorry, Avery. I thought things were going well between you two.”

  “So did I.” I shrugged, releasing her hand and proceeding to brush icing on the homemade cinnamon rolls. “Then out of nowhere he says he wants me to meet his parents and he asked what I thought of us all having dinner at their place. So, I told him that I honestly didn’t understand why that would be a good idea. Apparently my comment offended him.”

  Melinda covered her mouth. “Oh, dear.”

  �
�Right?” I laughed, then set the icing brush down when the oven timer went off with a loud beep-beep-beep. I turned toward the oven and pulled out a tray of chocolate chip cookies. “I mean, I’m dating him, not his parents. Or, I was dating him. So what’s the big rush on meeting them? Anyway, he told me that someday I’d need to break down the walls I’d built around my heart and actually let a guy in. Then he added that by the time I did that he’d probably be taken and I was likely to regret turning down meeting his parents. Isn’t that lame?”

  “Um . . .”

  “I mean, seriously.” I turned to her, making air quotes. “Why should I ‘break down my walls,’ as he put it, for a guy who dumps me the moment I say honestly that I’m not interested in meeting his mom and dad?”

  She raised a shoulder. “Well, I can see why he’d be hurt. He obviously wanted to take the next step with you, but you weren’t on the same page as him.”

  “Not even in the same book.” I held my palms up. “Whatever. At least now I’ll have more time to volunteer at Founding Friendships. Although, that reminds me . . . Jill Parnell left a message for me last night saying that something was up with the homeless outreach program’s current housing and that I needed to call her today.”

  “It’s really nice that you volunteer your time as much as you do.” Melinda lifted one of the still-warm chocolate chip cookies off the tray and blew on it. “But Lance does have a point about you taking those walls down to let someone in. You’re twenty-seven and not getting any younger. Don’t you want to make a serious commitment to someone?”

  Not getting any younger? Was my clock supposed to be ticking? Had we jumped back sixty years and I didn’t realize it?

  The corner of my mouth rose. “I already have made a commitment.”

  “You have?” she asked, her voice coming out in a squeak.

  “Yes.” I put a hand on my hip. “I’m seriously committed to making life better for everyone at Founding Friendships. I’m committed to my very crazy mom, who calls me every few weeks to check in. And I’m committed to all of my friends, including you.”

  “I meant with a guy!” She laughed, shaking her head. “But that’s sweet about being committed to our friendship, which you know I cherish. So now is probably the perfect time to ask you if you’d like to be a bridesmaid in my wedding.”

  “You want me to be a bridesmaid?” My chest filled with emotion and my eyes burned. I met Melinda when I’d moved to Sacramento a little over a year ago after a very bad breakup. I had found out that one of my so-called friends had been seeing my boyfriend behind my back and that the whole group of friends had known about it but kept it from me. After thinking I’d never be able to trust women again, I’d met Melinda who had slowly become my first true friend.

  And the funniest part of this situation? Here I was avoiding anything in the vicinity of walking down the aisle, and yet I wanted to blubber like a baby when Melinda asked me to be part of her wedding. Oh, the irony.

  Even though my stepdad had up and split on us, I’d considered giving marriage a second chance before my boyfriend cheated on me. After that? No interest in tying the noose—I mean, knot. Men could not be trusted. I’d since learned that you could trust a female friend again, but I wasn’t going to be suckered into believing a guy I dated could really go the long haul.

  The blaring of the latest hit pop song blasted out of my cell phone, which sat on the desk in the office. Oops! Had I forgotten to turn off my alarm?

  “I’d better get that,” I said, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over as I hurried toward the office. “It could be Jill following up on her phone call.”

  “At five-thirty in the morning?” Melinda asked, as I passed by her on my way to the office. “I take it you’re in as my bridesmaid?”

  I bit my lip and swiveled to face her, hoping I’d composed myself enough that my voice wouldn’t shake. “I’m so in.”

  “Good.” Melinda nodded, before turning to the pastries I’d abandoned.

  I hurried into the office, scrambled to cut off the blaring alarm, and then quickly shut the door and leaned back against it. My throat tightened. I couldn’t believe Melinda had asked me to be her bridesmaid. Her friendship meant a lot to me. I would not let her down during the single happiest time in her life—even though the thought of getting married myself gave me the heebie-jeebies. But I had bigger fish to fry right now.

  Or, in my case, muffins to bake.

  My eyes widened when they landed on the desk. My toothpaste! I must’ve forgotten to shove it in the desk drawer this morning after freshening up in the private bathroom off the office. I grabbed the long white tube and shoved it into the drawer before Melinda could see it. Man, the lack of solid sleep was making my brain fuzzy. I’d been so good at hiding my stuff away until now.

  I glanced at the couch, where I’d secretly slept the past two weeks. The lumpy sofa in the office didn’t make a dream bed, but I hadn’t planned to be here this long. I’d thought I’d be crashing here for just a day or two, but then the days passed and I hadn’t been able to find anything. A sick feeling crept into my stomach as I had a flashback from my childhood of when my mom and I had been living out of our car.

  I shook my head, trying to get the memory from my brain. Thinking about that time made me feel vulnerable and scared, so I didn’t allow myself to think about that time in my life let alone ever talk about it. Pressing hard at the tight muscles in my neck, I knew I had to get back to the kitchen. My barista would be here soon, and neither he nor Melinda knew I had temporarily moved in.

  As the manager of Bernie’s Bakery, I knew I should’ve told Melinda that her business was my temporary home. But she had so much going on in her life—especially now with her upcoming wedding—that I didn’t want her to worry about me on top of everything else. Also, a small part of me envisioned myself living on the streets if Melinda kicked me out. I knew in my heart that probably wouldn’t happen, but people had betrayed and surprised me before. I couldn’t take the risk of being homeless again.

  Besides, I was fine.

  Minus the crick in my neck, anyway.

  Sweat trickled down my brow, making me realize how nervous I felt about getting caught living here. But stowing my dirty clothes in the desk drawers was only a temporary solution since my landlord had canceled my lease due to the apartment building going condo. I couldn’t afford to buy my unit but I’d find my own place to live soon enough.

  After taking a couple of calming breaths and tucking back a few strands of long, honey-brown hair that had escaped my low bun, I grabbed my phone, noticing that I actually did have a missed call. Had to be from last night since I doubted anyone was going to phone me this early in the morning.

  Knowing that I had a lot to do, I dialed my voicemail, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear so I could listen to my message, while plumping the couch pillows to erase all evidence that I’d slept here.

  My phone beeped and then I typed in my voicemail password. A woman’s thin, reedy voice came through the earpiece:

  “This message is for Avery Summers. Thank you for your interest in Gold Rush Luxury Apartments. Unfortunately, there are no units open in the price range you marked on your application. We’d be happy to put your name on the waiting list, but please note we require the first and last month’s rent as well as a security deposit equal to one month’s rent. If you would like to reserve a spot on the waiting list, please call back at this number.”

  I swiped out of voicemail and sighed. Every place wanted first and last month’s rent, plus a security deposit, which was one of the reasons I couldn’t waste money on a hotel. I had just enough in savings to cover getting into an apartment, but finding an affordable apartment seemed to be my greatest challenge.

  Something would come up. It just had to.

  Shoving the phone into my pocket, I stopped by the kitchen and saw that Melinda had everything under control. I let her know I’d get things started in front. I stepped thro
ugh the swinging door, started the coffee percolating, and then began taking the chairs off the tables in the dining area.

  I glanced around the coffee shop then, needing a moment to catch my breath.

  Since Melinda had purchased the bakery from Bernie a year or so ago, she hadn’t changed much. The lettering on the front window that read “Bernie’s Bakery” had remained the same since his retirement and the bell that tinkled over the front door was downright iconic.

  Recently, Melinda had created a reading nook in one corner of the bakery to encourage people to stay around longer while enjoying their coffee and treats. The overstuffed armchairs were soft and totally inviting.

  As I stood admiring the bakery, the front door lock clicked open and a moment later, Marcus, the college guy who worked here part-time, came in.

  “Good morning, Avery. Want me to start filling the case?”

  “Good morning, Marcus.” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, that would be great. I haven’t had a chance to start that yet. You always know exactly how to help.”

  “At your service.” Marcus, a theatre major at the local community college, gave me a wide bow and then proceeded to the kitchen. He returned a minute later, carrying trays of donuts, muffins, and decadent brownies. “Have I told you this is the best job I’ve ever had?”

  Taking a tray from him, I slid it into the display case. “Only about ten times every shift,” I said, with a smile.

  “I’m slacking, huh?” Marcus joked, leaning against the counter. “You know, I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. Melinda’s done a great job keeping this place running smoothly since Bernie retired. How’d she end up with the bakery anyway?”

  “Bernie got sick and couldn’t run the place anymore. This bakery meant everything to Melinda. She worked here while in college and then again just over a year ago. When she found out about Bernie’s health issues and that he needed to sell, she was heartbroken.”