Whipped Wedding Woes: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 8) Read Free Page B

she was getting that and more with Greg. I think he knew he won the jackpot with Stormi too. Now we just had to make sure we got her out of this bungalow and down the aisle in one piece. I had forgotten how panicky one gets when trying to ramrod the bride, and one like Stormi, down to where the nuptials would take place.
     
    However, Stormi was calm, more so than Paige and I. We were the nervous wrecks, twittering about making sure our dresses and hair looked perfect. But Stormi was serene as she primped in the mirror. We wondered if someone had kidnapped our Stormi and this was a clone. But in hindsight, I think she knew that this was where she was supposed to be and whom she was supposed to be with for the rest of her life. Perhaps when you know with your heart that something is right, that little intuition nudging at your insides, it provides a calm center for the rest of your being. At least that’s what I thought in Stormi’s case.
     
    As we exited the bungalow, we could hear the sweet melody of violins playing in the courtyard. We gathered Stormi’s train and walked the short distance to the courtyard’s entrance. Brandon and Howie were waiting in their white suits with red ties. Even Howie looked good. Paige grabbed his arm and started walking down the aisle. Brandon and I followed. Dottie walked Stormi down the aisle and gave her to Greg, who she kissed sweetly on the cheek before taking her seat in the front row. The reverend Sam Talbot officiated, telling Greg that he should hug his wife everyday, and Stormi should cook him a good meal at least three times a week. That a good marriage included a husband who ensures his wife gets the comfort she needs and the man receives a proper meal at least every other day. It was a joyous occasion and the entire ceremony went off without a hitch. Before I knew it, the bride and groom were walking back down the aisle with Brandon and me following.
     
    We stayed behind for photos while the guests entered the tent for cocktail hour. Once the photographer was finished with us, we joined the festivities inside the tent. One of the local caterers set up a buffet and we stuffed ourselves with fried cod, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, noodles and rolls. A true southern feast. Of course, we had wedding cake for dessert. I also brought a large barrel of fudge ripple ice cream from the shoppe, one of Greg’s favorites, to serve with the cake.
     
    A makeshift dance floor was set up at one end of the tent where a DJ spun the latest tunes. Howie could barely wait for Greg and Stormi to finish their first dance as man and wife before he was cutting a rug old school in front of amazed guests. His dance moves were almost hypnotic in their peculiarity. First, it was the snake, and then he’d move on to the robot, slide a few raise the roof moves in, and then finish with a moonwalk. While Luella danced with him, she didn’t partake of the fancy stirrings originating from her companion. It appeared she ignored his antics as she danced, preferring to look in another direction. Unlike the rest of us who were mesmerized by his range of motion…and not in a good way.
     
    Fortunately, a slow song came on and Howie and Luella retreated from the dance floor so the rest of us could have a chance. Brandon and I along with Paige and Bruce and other guests slow danced to the tune of Eric Clapton’s You Look Wonderful Tonight . After the song, we sat down together and let Howie retake the floor. I guess he was the entertainment for the night.
     
    “Lordy that boy can dance,” Dottie exclaimed.
     
    Paige looked skeptical. “I don’t know…reminds of a dry heaving dog.”
     
    Stormi started snorting which got me going as well. I grabbed her arm as we ran away from the dance floor before Howie could catch us laughing. We sat down at a table and tried to compose ourselves.
     
    “You know I kept thinking he looked like something but I couldn’t put my finger on it