“Can, will and must.” He moved his hand, but he didn’t relax into the chair like most people would. He sat, back straight, shoulders squared, head high, on alert. “Rick Vandeveld is most likely going to be our president-elect in nine short weeks. The reason I couldn’t make the original planning meeting with your mother was because threats against him on the campaign trail kept me tied up. An open affair like Shelby planned?” He shook his head. “Indefensible. The stakes changed the minute Rick actually became the party candidate. That means we start again. From the beginning.”
He couldn’t be serious. The Finger Lakes had become a go-to destination for weddings and events. Changing a date on a huge affair like this would be impossible. “Do you have the authority to change it?” she squeaked the words in disbelief, because this couldn’t get worse.
Kimberly had organized major galas for stars and corporate bigwigs in Nashville, but she’d cut her event-planning teeth in her mother’s primarily bridal business. Crossing a bride was never in anyone’s best interests. But what would a single guy like Drew Slade know about that? Nothing. “Look, Andrew.”
He didn’t wince when she used his whole name. She’d wanted him to; she wanted him to know she wasn’t letting bygones be bygones. Their childhood familiarity had dissolved when her brother lay bleeding on a cold, wet asphalt parking lot a decade ago because Drew had pulled into the sting a few minutes late. The first rule of police work was “cover your partner’s back.”
Drew failed and Dave died.
He met her gaze, cool, calm and collected, totally take-charge, but this wasn’t realigning a parade route for visibility’s sake.
This was a wedding. The senator’s daughter’s wedding. One of the most important days in a woman’s life, so Drew could—
“I not only have the authority—I have the final say. Nothing about this wedding gets done without my approval. There are no ad-libs. There are no unapproved breaks in the itinerary. There are no unexpected last-minute changes.”
Drew Slade needed a major reality check. “Those things are a given in a wedding.”
“Not this time.” He nodded toward the portfolio her mother and Shelby had threaded together several months before. “Everything gets handled differently now that Rick is the party’s candidate. Shelby’s a politician’s daughter. She’ll understand.”
He was half-right.
As a politician’s daughter, Shelby would understand the need to prioritize safety. Kimberly had organized tight security at numerous Nashville events. The merging of a country star with a senator’s daughter warranted security to the max with just the guest list, not to mention the main-event players.
But no bride on earth would hand over carte blanche control of her wedding day to a security employee, no matter how amazingly handsome, rugged and wounded he was. “Andrew, I appreciate your stand, but I really can’t make any changes in Shelby’s wedding itinerary without her permission.”
He withdrew a phone, hit a number and waited. Her rebuttal hadn’t angered him, probably because he ran into security snags and unwilling people regularly in his job. But changing a wedding?
Not on her watch.
He handed her the phone. “Shelby would like to speak to you.”
She reached out to take it.
Their eyes met. Their hands touched, and for fleeting seconds that one-sided high school crush barreled back, teenage emotions of falling for big brother’s best friend. Andrew and Dave, always together. Childhood friends, high school teammates, college roomies and then cops together on the streets of Rochester. Until Dave was just...gone.
Focus on the phone.
She brought it to her ear and turned slightly away from Drew’s intensity. “Shelby? It’s Kimberly Gallagher from Kate & Company. How are you?”
“Exhausted, muddled and wishing my wedding day was a thing of the past, right along with this election. But that’s off the record, Kimberly! In the press I’m smiling and pleased and delighted to be here, supporting my dad.”
Kimberly knew the feeling well. “I hear you. So, listen, Andrew Slade is here and he’s—”
“I know exactly what he’s doing.”
Kimberly’s heart fell, because Shelby’s droll tone spelled t-r-o-u-b-l-e without the acoustic guitar.
“And I don’t know how you’re going to deal with him, Kimberly. He’s such an old bear when it comes to keeping us safe, but then again, that’s why we hired him. Listen, he’s going to fuss and bother, then he’s going to think about it a while and then he’ll devise a plan to make things work. Honestly, if Travis and I had thought things through, we’d have either waited or eloped, but my mother would be brokenhearted if I did that. And a girl can’t go through life disappointing her mother.”
Kimberly decided she liked Shelby Vandeveld from afar.
“So here’s how I’d like to handle this.”
Kimberly lifted a pencil to take notes.
“Give Drew whatever he needs. He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, and as long as I show up there and marry my best friend, I’m good.”
“You’re serious?”
“Not as often as my daddy would like, but on this, yes. See what you can save, call me to let me know about changes, email me pictures. Oops, gotta go. Family photo op and cheese tasting! I just love Wisconsin!”
She hung up.
So did Kimberly. She turned slowly. “So that’s Shelby.”
“It is. And she extended her permission, I take it.”
“She said we can rearrange as needed, to keep her informed and she needed to go taste some cheese.”
He made a face of acceptance. “Life in the fast lane of vote grooming. So.” He stood and kept his eyes on hers. “Shall we go see what she and your mother planned? And then we’ll adjust as needed.”
Kimberly bit back the scolding she longed to give. When the Finger Lakes became a go-to spot for weddings and events, her mother had created a business that flourished. The downside was there were few alternative sites at this late date. Every elegant winery, hotel, inn, church and lakeside view had been booked for months if not years. Picturesque autumn in the Finger Lakes drew crowds from all over.
She bit her tongue, stood, lifted the thin portfolio and moved to the door. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Beautiful, bright and still blaming him for Dave’s death. If Drew could rewind the hands of time, he’d have fixed that dreadful night, hundreds of times.
God’s timing. Not yours.
He knew that. He’d finally come to accept it. But seeing the hollowness in Kimber’s gaze when she looked at him brought the loss rushing back.
And now they’d be working side by side on a wedding that couldn’t have been more poorly timed. He followed her through the door, trying not to notice how gracefully she moved. The fitted sundress made that an impossible task and her long blond hair shifted with each step forward.
He shifted his gaze to the floor. Spiky bright yellow heels thwarted that strategy.
Just admit it. She’s gorgeous. She hates you. You’ve got no choice but to work together. You’re doomed.
Rocky paused. Barked. Then barked again.
“Kimberly, hold up.” Drew put his hand over the ever-present weapon at his hip.
She stopped and turned. “Because?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Stay here.” He ignored the impatient look she shot to the