“Wait,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “The last measurements that lady took was when I was wearing Spanx.”

Theresa gasps. “I totally forgot about that. Do you still have them?”

“They’re in my underwear drawer.”

She grabs her keys, her red gown swishing by her knees. She fits just fine into hers.

“I’ll go get them.”

I’d complain about having to wear that thing on my wedding day, but honestly I’m just hoping it does the trick. So I practically shove her out the door.

“Thank you!” I call after her. Mom helps me out of THE dress so I don’t rip it again while we wait. She helps me into a fluffy robe and fixes a loose snowflake in my hair. She hasn’t spoken much today, just sniffled a few times.

“How we doing on those Hurdles, Momma?”

Her eyes wrinkle in the corner when she smiles. “That first one is still really high. How are you doing on yours?”

I flick my gaze to my dress and let out a small laugh. “I don’t think I cleared a single one.”

“You’re still here, though. So maybe you didn’t do as badly as you think.”

“I tripped and stumbled over each one of those Hurdles.” My future mother-in-law continues to give me the stink-eye. Paying for the wedding never would’ve happened without my parents. Operation Great Sex was not without its stumbling blocks either. We were all sorts of menu items while we battled each other to our honeymoon destination. And I gave up the Bahamas two days before, not only because I wanted him so much, but as I nudge the packed honeymoon bag with my toes while Mom messes with my hair, I know I want Landon to be happy, and I want to share that part of his life with him. So Utah, here we come.

Devil butterflies start to beat their wings in my stomach. I clutch it tight, breathe deep, and count fifteen Mississippis.

“Momma?” I ask, staring at my bag. “It’s normal to be nervous, right?”

“Do you need me to warm your feet?”

I nod, a long blond curl bouncing in front of my nose. Mom clips it back in place.

“Twenty minutes before I married your father, I detoured to the caterers and stuffed my face with sponge cake.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” If only I could fit into my dress.

“It took you grandmother and two bridesmaids to pull me back into the bridal room. I kept babbling about how your father never cleaned, spent too much time working, how we didn’t kiss like we used to, and I wasn’t even sure if he was the one.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. That man I married still never cleans, works too much, and we don’t kiss as often. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because he’s also that same man who loves me as much as he did that very first day we laid eyes on each other. And I cannot picture a life that would’ve been better than the one he shares with me.”

I dab a shaking finger under my eye, careful not to ruin anything. “So it’s okay Landon leaves his socks on the floor?”

She laughs. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

“It drives me crazy.”

“But you still love him.”

“Yeah.” I grin. “I love him and his dirty socks.”

“Then I think you’re ready to get married, baby.”

Theresa bursts back in the room about ten minutes later, Spanx in hand. “Okay, let’s get you into that damn dress.”

—

Red and black drapes float across snow-covered windows. Flowers line the aisles, petals in my bridesmaids’ hair, and red and white roses clipped to lapels. Sparkly snowflakes hang from the high ceiling, accent the seats in the hall, and while it’s so gorgeous and more than I could ever hope for in a wedding, all I see is the pepper stuck in Landon’s teeth. And after Dad lifts my veil and gives me away, I automatically reach up and get that sucker out of there.

“Are you sure you two aren’t married already?” the preacher asks with much laughter from the congregation. Landon pulls me forward and wipes under my eye, getting whatever makeup residue that’s splotched there with the sweat forming all over my body. Winter wedding, great idea…except they turn the heat up a thousand degrees and that doesn’t help when you’re wearing Spanx .

But my dress is all the way zipped up. I finally made it over that Hurdle.

After Landon and I have prepped each other, he takes my hand and the preacher starts off with lots of good advice about love and family and friendship, but I can’t concentrate much with the butterflies storming in my stomach and sharing hand squeezes with Landon.

“Now,” the preacher man says, gesturing to Landon and me, “the bride and groom have written their own vows.”

My stomach…

drops.

Honest to the sweet Lord, I almost curse right then and there in front of a man of the cloth. Landon kinks his neck to the side, because I think I’m supposed to go first, and as much of a planner as I am, as anal and as organized, I forget my stinking vows back at the apartment! I look at Theresa, whose mouth is open and she’s shaking her head like, “You never gave those to me.”

I stare blankly back to my husband-to-be, lips parted slightly as I mouth, “I forgot them.”

Whispering stirs in the congregation, and my face grows warmer and warmer under the lights. I forgot my wedding vows. I am the worst bride ever. He’s going to leave me right here at the altar, because my mind goes blank. I don’t even remember what I wrote in the first place. I had a killer joke to start with, and then I was beautiful and sweet and, damn it, I’m a flake! Should I even be doing this?

Landon takes my hand with an amused grin, kisses my finger, and says, “I vow to make you laugh.”

Then he waits for me.

“I…I vow to humor you about your jokes.”

“What if they’re really bad?” he asks with a laugh.

“Even then.”

“I vow to pick up my socks.”

I snort. Actually snort during our vows. “Can I get that in writing?”

“You want it notarized, too?”

I weave my fingers through his and take a step closer. “I vow to sing to you when you’re sick.”

“Please don’t.”

“Lots of 98 Degrees to get you to the right temperature.”

“I take back my sock vow.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“We are not going to argue during our wedding ceremony.”

“Okay,” he says, “I vow to always argue naked.”

“And make up naked.”

“To always take you out on dates.”

“And I’ll never stop flirting with you.”

“I vow to kiss the center of your palm.”

“I vow to give you long hugs.”

“I vow to squeeze your hand twice.” And he does.

“And I vow to always squeeze back.”

After lots of “aww”s from our friends and family, Landon and I turn to the preacher.

“Do you have the rings?”

“Yes!” I shout, scaring Landon into Alec. But I didn’t forget this one. Theresa leans over and slides the clearance ring I got him that says, “You are mine,” because even though he said he didn’t need one, he does. And this will have to do until I can afford a nice gold band.

He pushes the ring onto my finger—I mean literally pushes, because the heat in here has made my fingers swell. And I take his hand, and as the twenty-dollar piece of jewelry slides over his knuckle, something bursts in my chest.

I remember how it felt when Landon first kissed me. I remember the second kiss, the third, and I remember the first time we made love and the first time we fought and the first time we spent a night together. I remember moving in, learning to deal with living with each other, and overcoming all the Hurdles that were put in our path.

I remember how it felt when he put the ring on my finger. It was beyond words.

But nothing could’ve ever prepared me for how it feels to put a ring on his finger.

Tears are falling now, and there’s no way to stop them. And through the blur I witness, for the first time ever, a tear crawling down Landon’s cheek into his smile line.