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  Marissa marched toward Scott, who was laughing much too hard. “I am not tossing a bouquet at my wedding.”

  He pulled a hand down his face, wiping off the unnecessary mirth. “Did you get poked by a thorn?”

  She nodded. Christa was definitely a thorn. And right now Taylor and Amy weren’t much better. Tanya rushed over as the DJ announced the garter toss, plastering her with a hug.

  “I so wanted you to catch mine,” Tanya said with a squeeze. “This is even better because now you’re with Scott and—”

  Marissa held up her hand. “Let’s not marry me off because Christa threw something at my head. If that actually worked, Taylor would be on husband number five.”

  The girls laughed, but it wasn’t a joke. She had enough pressure in her life, she didn’t need more from a bridal superstition. She turned to find Scott had disappeared; he was probably annoyed that she was fighting the bouquet, pressing pause again.

  The room roared to life behind them, and they all turned to see Scott, his hand high in the air gripping hot pink ribbons and lace. Now he’s gone and done it.

  She pushed the bouquet at Taylor, then marched to Scott. He had to know what happened next. By the way his green eyes sparkled she knew he had a tenuous grasp on his ability to hold a serious expression. This was basically an engagement announcement, except she hadn’t been asked, hadn’t agreed, and didn’t have a ring.

  Holy hell, she wanted that. She wanted all of it at once. And she couldn’t stop the longing as the DJ called them to the dance floor, playing of all things, “Marry You.”

  He held her close as he began to move, so close she couldn’t help but follow his lead. He lowered his head so she could hear him over the din of the music.

  “I’m not throwing the garter. It’s her underwear, and I’m supposed to wear it on my arm? How is that okay?”

  She eyed the bright pink satin and lace number circling his bicep. Now that he mentioned it, she did not like it there. Didn’t think she’d like anything that came from another woman on her man.

  “But what could I do? It was either catch the thing or watch you obliterate someone else’s toes.”

  “How generous of you to take one for the team.”

  “I’m a team player. I’m also not a fan of bridesmaids.”

  “Really? You were awfully fond of one of Tanya’s bridesmaids.” She’d avoided weddings, so she didn’t have as many fully formed opinions about what she might want or what would be deal breakers.

  “I was into you before you turned pink. Why are bridesmaids’ dresses so hideous?”

  “Tanya’s were nice, the color was just wrong for me. And Christa’s were off the rack and unaltered. A little tailoring could have fixed them.”

  “I think guys have the right idea on formal wear. One tuxedo that you can wear for a lifetime.”

  “Is that why you got a tux? “

  He shook his head. “My mom insisted on one for graduation. As long as I don’t have too many pizza binges and stay active, it’ll fit forever. She also made us do dance lessons.”

  “I do want dancing at my wedding. Not that I can, but dancing makes people happy. “

  He nodded his agreement. They tended to agree on everything, except the speed at which their relationship moved.

  “I’m not having some half honeymoon like Christa and her San Francisco art galleries or Tanya and skiing.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Tanya loves skiing.”

  “You know what I love?”

  “Reading, board games, and me.” He answered without hesitation.

  True. Why in the world had she been about to say Paris? Those days together at the cabin with him were the best she’d ever spent.

  She crossed her wrists behind his neck as the rest of the crowd joined them on the dance floor. “I’m not getting married in winter and having a snowstorm keep me from my honeymoon.”

  He shrugged. “Spring is easier logistically anyway.”

  “Summer. I don’t trust fall because it snowed me in. I think the chances are the same in the spring. So, summer.”

  “Plus your lease is up in June. And my family will already be in town for the show.”

  She wrinkled her nose. Damn real life always messing up her fantasies. She didn’t want to distract anyone when they needed to focus on such a big opportunity. “Some people take a year or more to plan a wedding.”

  His come-and-get-me grin cut through the anxiety. “How long do you have to stay?”

  “I don’t. I’m not technically an employee for another day, and the event coordinator running this is great. One more day of vacation to do what I love most.”

  “Am I on that list?” He wrapped an arm around her to keep her close while the left the dance floor.

  “Always.”

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to:

  Human Bean and Lynda’s understanding of my pad thai obsession.

  Panera bagel Tuesday, and Molly’s weakness for pecan braids.

  Maggie, Delilah, and Jessica for getting your own shizz done so I felt pressured to do mine.

  Skype, and Donna’s amazing ability to laugh at my bad jokes.

  And Oregon Writers Colony house for inspiring the Zimmerman cabin.

  This book was finished with no thanks to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest or email.

  About the Author

  Author photograph © EJ Russell

  By day, Jenna is faster than a speeding toddler, stronger than a stubborn husband, able to leap tall Lego structures in a single bound . . . but by night, while the family sleeps, she writes romance novels where no one ever has to scoop up after the dog, change diapers, clip coupons, drive carpool, do laundry, mop floors, get Silly Putty out of hair, vacuum, empty the vacuum bag (gross!), exercise, count calories, apply Band-Aids, clean up puke . . . wait, where was this going? Oh, Jenna writes romance because it is glamorous. Just ask the dog. www.jennabayleyburke.com

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  Also by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Just Married

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Copyright Page

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  SNOWED IN. Copyright © 2016 by Jenna Bayley-Burke. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover photographs © Deposit Photos (couple); Shutterstock (snow)

  ISBN 978-1-250-12006-9 (e-book)

  First Edition: December 2016

  Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, ext. 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].

 

 

 
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