All Chapters of A Midwestern Cinderella: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Claud had to basically carry me back out of the church in the same manner he'd brought me in. I didn't protest. For someone as big as he was, he was remarkably gentle. Plus, I really appreciated not being the center of attention again.I took the required photos with the wedding party, trying to stay in the background. The pictures were for Cecelia and Carlson, not for me. I looked pretty with my shoulder-length blonde hair curled softly around my face. The makeup artist had even managed to make my brown eyes look amazing, probably because she'd basically created eyebrows and eyelashes for me. My blonde brows and pale lashes were even lighter than my hair and, as such, were nearly invisible without makeup.Even glammed up and knowing that I looked beautiful, I didn't particularly like getting my picture taken, and the fact that I was still wearing the stupid high-heeled shoes made me want to run and hide. I wobbled and nearly fell with every change of position.The damn things were cu

It was time for my speech.I wasn't the maid of honor, but Cecelia had asked me to make a speech anyway. She had begged me, saying that not only was I her cousin and best friend but that I worked with Carlson. I knew them both personally and professionally and that it would make her wedding day perfect.I wasn't good at making speeches. I wasn't good at being the center of attention. But Cecelia had asked. So I was making a speech.I stood shaking next to the sweetheart table. Cecelia grinned at me. When the MC handed me the microphone, I seriously considered just running. I was wearing tennis shoes now, so there was a much better chance I wouldn't fall on the ground if I tried to move. But Cecelia had asked. And I loved her enough to do it.My sweaty hand shook around the microphone so hard I was sure I was going to drop it, and I knew my cheeks had to be blazing red. My stomach did flip flops, and I wished I had drank a lot more.I stared out at the crowd, trying to remember every

I pushed open the door to the open courtyard. Dark warm air hit us like a wet blanket. We stepped out into the night, and the sounds of the party vanished as the door shut behind us.Frogs called out, and crickets chirped as we walked across the lawn. I still had his hand in mine as I guided us across the open space and toward a small bridge that led to a wooded area behind it.“There should be a bunch on the other side of the bridge,” I said, guiding us through the dark. “There's a small creek over there that should attract them.”I lifted my dress to cross the wooden footbridge that connected two grassy areas.“Wait, you changed your shoes,” Freddie said, noticing my footwear.“You think I could have danced in heels?” I said with a laugh. “I can't even walk in heels. Dancing could be deadly.”“Those do look more comfortable,” he agreed.“Heels will be my downfall,” I told him. “I can feel it.”“Death by shoe... sounds terrible,” Freddie agreed with a soft laugh.The two of us walked

Before I knew it, brunch was over, and it was time to go. I'd barely felt the minutes pass. My aunt and Carla had traded snide remarks all morning, but I hadn't noticed them at all. I was having a wonderful morning.“May I walk you out to your car?” Freddie asked after I'd said my goodbyes to everyone.“Sure,” I said before remembering that my car wasn't exactly something I wanted to show off. But I wasn't about to miss out on a few extra minutes with him.The sun beat down on the black asphalt as we worked our way through the rows of cars.“Is summer like this in Paradisa?” I asked.Freddie looked around at the sizzling pavement, the screams of cicadas, and the rising humidity and shook his head. “Not at all. It's hot, but not like this. And our insects are a bit quieter.”I chuckled. “What kind of summer activities do you have?”He shrugged. “We ride horses, there's swimming, and the ocean is close.” He smiled, his eyes going distant. “We do bonfires on the beach. The water is alwa

“I'm not usually the one who cooks dinner,” Freddie explained. He looked down at his tomato on the counter. “And I actually lied when I said I could help. I have no idea how to dice tomatoes.”I loved the way he said tomatoes. It sounded fancy with his Paradisian accent. But the man had brutally destroyed one of the tomatoes. It lay bleeding in tomato paste form on the cutting board.I pushed the mangled tomato to the side of the cutting board and put out a new one. I took the knife in my hands and showed him how to cut the slices.“Like this?” he asked, sliding in behind me. He draped his arms over mine, resting his hands carefully on top of my own. His breath tickled my ear, vibrating straight down and activating parts of me that had nothing to do with cooking.His heat seeped into me, and I couldn't stop my eyes from closing with a flutter. I forced myself to concentrate, holding onto the tomato like a lifeline.“Yup,” I managed to say. “And then like this.”I was lucky I didn't s