Highlands Summer Wedding (Highlands Romance #1)

CHAPTER 1

The entire island was out of purple ribbon.

Not one single spool left in Vineyard Haven, Edgartown, or Oak Bluffs.

The senator’s daughter’s wedding had apparently cleaned out every craft store, florist, and gift shop on Martha’s Vineyard, leaving me—professional wedding planner, alleged adult—standing in a paper goods store contemplating whether purple gift wrap ribbon might work in a wedding.

It would not.

Now I’d have to order some from Boston and pray the ferry delivered it to Vineyard Haven before the wedding.

Normally I’d call my sister, Caitlin, but she was visiting Scotland with her fiancé. And our friend Melissa had flat-out moved there. Apparently Scottish men were either irresistible or running some kind of immigration scam.

So here I was in Vineyard Haven decorating for a purple-themed wedding with no purple ribbons. I considered my options. Flowers could work instead.

My fingers trembled slightly as I dialed the florist.

“Sorry,” the voice on the other end said flatly. “We’ve got three daisies and some baby’s breath left. The Senator’s daughter’s wedding cleaned us out.”

I scrolled through my contacts, finger hovering over Eric’s name. He worked next door to that big craft chain store. He’d definitely get me the ribbons. He’d also definitely read too much into my asking for help.

I sighed and hit call.

Eric answered on the first ring.

“Abby! I was literally just thinking about you!”

My stomach tightened. “I need a favor.”

Thirty minutes later he texted photos of ribbon options from a mainland craft store, along with: Booked a ferry. Be there soon.

Of course he had.

Eric had been trying to turn our friendship into something more ever since I’d moved back from Los Angeles. Calling him had been a mistake, and I knew it.

I slid behind the wheel of my rental car and headed to the dock. When Eric stepped off the ferry, I had to blink twice—the man looked like he’d been attacked by a bridal Pinterest board.

He moved in for a peck on the cheek, and I flashed a smile that I hoped didn’t look as frozen and fake as I felt for accepting his help in my time of great need.

“Should we have breakfast at that cute diner down the street?” he said, a bit too eagerly.

“That’s a great place. Unfortunately, I just ate an energy bar, and I’ve got to get in touch with the catering company.”

“Oh. Maybe I’ll see you this afternoon, then?” He looked at me like I hadn’t just said no.

“The wedding is this afternoon.” From his look, I realized he was thinking I could bring a date. “Eric, I really appreciate this huge favor, but I have to stay focused. I’m working the wedding, not attending it. I’ll Venmo you for everything and book you a ferry back home.”

“I booked the B&B. I thought…”

“Eric… What exactly did you think was happening here?”

“Just thought we could spend some time together.” He shrugged, trying to look casual.

“I barely have time to breathe between the floral arrangements and seating charts. This wedding has a mother-daughter duo who’ve changed the menu four times since Tuesday.

” I shifted the ribbons in my arms. “I’m the one who has to smile through it all while reminding everyone this is supposed to be a celebration. ”

His hopeful eyes met mine. “Maybe next weekend?”

“Eric,” I said, my voice catching. “I shouldn’t have called you. I only did because I knew you’d come through, and that wasn’t fair. I won’t put you in this position again.”

“It’s fine,” he said, adjusting his grip on the flowers. “Happy to help.”

“Eric—”

“Really. It’s fine.” He glanced at the ferry schedule board. “Ever heard of the soup test?”

I blinked at him, confused. “The what?”

“When you’re uncertain where you stand with someone, you make them soup. Or bread from scratch. Something thoughtful.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If they’re uncomfortable, you have your answer. If they’re genuinely touched, maybe there’s something there. Well… I guess I got my answer.”

“We were never—” I stopped myself, watching him nod. He’d made his peace with this. One less complication for me to manage.

I tossed the flowers and ribbons into the trunk of my rental car. I felt lighter, which made me feel worse. I pulled away from the ferry dock and headed toward Oak Bluffs.

The wedding site—a white wooden gazebo in the town park—looked picturesque in photos but was an obvious disaster to any experienced planner.

It sat directly in the path of Atlantic wind gusts and a flock of territorial geese.

The reception venue at least made sense: a private waterfront club with actual walls and a roof.

“It’s where he proposed,” the bride had explained, deaf to my concerns. At least he hadn’t bent down on one knee at the Aquinnah cliffs, where one wrong move meant tumbling into the Atlantic.

***

Dark clouds gathered overhead, but at least the indoor gallery was on standby. I clutched my phone under the gazebo’s insufficient shelter as rain hammered the roof and wind tore ribbons loose, whipping into the air.

My phone buzzed. A call from the bride.

“The wedding’s off,” she said, her voice clipped.

My stomach lurched. I’d done this at cost to launch my Vineyard wedding business. Now every plan, every sacrifice, every sleepless hour… gone.

“Wait—what exactly do you mean by ‘off’?” I asked, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

“We’re postponing. Maybe a few years,” she said.

I pressed my hand to my forehead. Rain soaked my sleeve. My chest tightened. I thought of Eric on the dock, drenched, arms overflowing with ribbons, hopeful as always. I hated that I’d pulled him into this mess.

Was I going to have to stay with Eric? Please, no. No—no more favors.

The wind gusted hard enough to shove me sideways. Then the sky cracked.

The sound wasn’t thunder. It was a violent snap directly overhead. For a second, everything went white. My ears rang. I couldn’t tell if I was breathing. Rain pelted my face. My hands shook. I was still standing.

Then I smelled smoke and turned to see flames engulfing the wooden beams of the gazebo.

I called 911 and delivered the details like I was briefing a film crew: location, structure type, visible flames.

Calm. Efficient. Useful. It was easier than admitting I’d almost just died under a gazebo decorated in violet ribbon.

Then I turned toward the parking lot. Time to drop off the rental car and find a way back to Boston.

***

I fought my way through the crowd at the ticket office where panic had set in amongst the travelers gathered there.

Day-trippers desperate to flee, tourists who’d just arrived already regretting their choice, all of them with dogs and kids and bikes. I managed to snag one of the last passenger tickets. I raced on board the lurching old ferry and took my place in a chair below deck near a rain-splattered window.

I wondered who was more miserable. The bride?

The groom? The family, who’d knocked themselves out to travel to this island during a storm and were now trapped in expensive lodgings for a rainy weekend with no wedding to attend?

They certainly had it worse than I did. And I hadn’t had to buy some ugly lilac bridesmaid’s dress, so I had that going for me.

I tugged my damp hoodie lower and curled against the window, willing unconsciousness to carry me across the choppy strait.

The ferry horn jolted me awake. Through rain-streaked windows, the gray outline of Woods Hole appeared in the distance. My phone vibrated against my hip. It was my sister, Caitlin, calling from Scotland, where she and her boyfriend had been visiting for the past two weeks.

“Hey, what’s up?” I said with false cheer, trying to sound more awake than I felt.

“How do you feel about bagpipes and kilts?” Her voice had that breathless quality it got when she was holding back big news.

“Please tell me you’re not asking me to wear either.”

“Not wear—plan! Angus proposed last night. We want a summer wedding, right there where it all started.”

My sister. Getting married. In Scotland. “Wait—you’re serious? You’re engaged?”

“Yes! So will you come? Be my wedding planner?”

I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “Of course I’ll come! That’s incredible news! How did he propose? I want every detail.”

“We were on a hike in this misty drizzle when two deer appeared out of nowhere—a stag and doe, just watching us. Angus started talking about timing and love and suddenly he was kneeling there. The deer stayed the whole time like fairy tale witnesses. I said yes, of course!”

“When’s the big day?” I gripped the phone tighter as the ferry pitched.

“Late June—my birthday weekend. June 18th.”

Ouch. That date.

Never mind. Caitlin was getting married in six weeks because my sister had never met a decision she didn’t want to make at full speed.

“I know, I know,” Caitlin said with a laugh. “It’s fast. But we’re keeping it tiny. Mostly Angus’s family and the people already in Scotland. We’ll have a big celebration in Boston later.”

I tried to focus as she continued. “We want to get married at the MacAlister Inn, where we first met during that blizzard. The place is perfect—they handle catering, have the liquor license, dance floor, even accommodations for everyone.”

“Count me in,” I said. “Anything for my only sister.”

The ferry horn blasted as we approached the dock.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Heading back from the Vineyard. The Winthrop wedding was canceled.”

“Oh no—your big break planning weddings for the island crowd. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “And Eric and I finally clarified things. We’re just friends. Maybe not even that anymore.”

“I’m so sorry. What terrible timing.” I heard a cringe in her voice.

“Story of my life,” I said, feeling defeated.

Caitlin’s voice softened. “I’ll email you all the details. Get some rest.”

“I’ll try. Love you. Congrats again!”

I hung up and tugged my raincoat over my head. It was a good coat, but the sheets of rain were endless, and I had a long walk from the ferry dock to the parking lot where I had to catch a bus to retrieve my car.

As I dashed down the sidewalk, dodging umbrella spokes and ankle-deep puddles, I wondered why more people didn’t get married on sunny islands in the Caribbean.

Warm sands, swaying palms, and turquoise waters.

I mean, you hear about it all the time. Why couldn’t anyone hire me for something like that?

Instead, I was Scotland-bound.

Scotland. Bagpipes. Rain.

Deer with better timing than I had.

At least I’d already mastered the weather.