Chapter 27
Mac
Friday arrived with wedding rehearsal and a tight knot of anxiety in Mac's chest. Not about the wedding itself, that would be beautiful. But about the looming threat of Matthews.
The rehearsal went smoothly. Cole was visibly nervous, pacing in front of the altar. "What if I trip walking down the aisle?"
"You won't."
"What if I forget my vows?"
"Cole." Mac put his hands on his best friend's shoulders. "You're marrying Ellie tomorrow. The woman you love. Focus on that. Everything else is just details."
Cole took a deep breath, nodding. "You're right. Okay. I can do this."
Rachel sat in the back pew watching, smiling at Mac whenever he looked over. But Mac could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she kept glancing at the church doors like she expected someone to walk through them.
After the rehearsal, as everyone filed out toward the rehearsal dinner, Mac caught up with Rachel in the parking lot.
"How are you doing?"
"Nervous," she admitted. "Tomorrow we're going to walk into that reception together. In front of everyone."
"We could always sneak in separately and pretend we don't know each other," Mac offered. "Very mysterious. People will talk."
"Mac."
"Or I could introduce you as my accountant. Very professional."
Rachel huffed a laugh despite herself. "Your accountant?"
"You handle my book budget. It's basically the same thing." Mac pulled her closer. "Rachel, everyone already knows we're together. Half the town watched me bring you flowers at the library. The other half saw us having coffee dates at Sophie's."
"That's different than being your official date to a wedding."
"True. This time I get to slow dance with you in front of everyone." Mac grinned. "Fair warning: I'm a terrible dancer. You're going to be very embarrassed."
"Somehow I doubt that's what I should be worried about."
"Then what are you worried about?"
Rachel didn’t speak. Then: "What if people think I'm not good enough for you?"
"Then people would be idiots." Mac cupped her face.
"You're ridiculous."
"You like me anyway."
"I do," Rachel admitted, squeezing his hand.
They stood there in the late afternoon sun, hands clasped, both thinking about tomorrow.