Jane’s own wedding would be simple. A few close friends. Good food.
No champagne.
Any attempts to recall how much she’d had to drink always blurred after her arrival at the pub. Most of the evening blurred at that point.
Except for one thing.
Handsome, alpha sexy men never paid attention to her, except the ones hoping she’d be an easy lay (which she never was, not even when she tried to be). And they never ignored Debbie’s come-all-ye-with-a-Y-chromosome pitch.
Yet, Aaron didn’t blur. He…
And she was right back where she’d started, looping together the bits and pieces of last night that she remembered. She flexed her left hand. It was as if the entire night had been focused down to the memory of her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. Everything else was a mash-up of varying uncla
