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shrugged. “I was just wondering.”

“I can’t…leave, I mean. I’m looking after Angel Wings Café. And then I’ve got bowling practice.”

Dylan nodded. “Maybe next time, then.”

Annie hurried into the kitchen and called herself every fool under the sun. She’d gotten tongue-tied around Dylan. He was a man. A perfectly normal, over-the-top gorgeous male, but a man nonetheless. And she was a confident, single woman, whose excuse for not going with him had been bowling practice.

And that told her, beyond any reasonable doubt, that there was something seriously wrong with her priorities.

Dylan parked outside Pastor Steven’s church and tried to figure out what he’d done wrong. Annie had looked as though she’d rather throw up than come with him to deliver the meals. He’d gone out on a limb, pushed his comfort zone and come up with zilch.

“You going to sit there all day or help unload the boxes?” Logan stood on the sidewalk, hands on hips and looking too annoyed for a Saturday afternoon.

Ever since Dylan moved to Bozeman, he’d been friends with Logan. They’d met eight months ago at a group session Pastor Steven organized for people with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. His first meeting had been a strange combination of sound advice and good natured ribbing. The guys he’d met kept coming back and so did he.

Dylan pushed open his door. “What are you? The food police?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d been through today. The Bozeman Police Department has two officers in the World Police and Fire Games. I’ve spent the last four hours writing a story about their training routine.”

Apart from being the closest friend Dylan had, Logan was a reporter for the Bozeman Chronicle. Before that he’d been a war correspondent, syndicated to more newspapers than Dylan had heard about.

He opened the back door of his truck and passed Logan a box. “Take these inside. Tess said Pastor Steven called. They’re going to have a full house tonight.”

“What else did my fiancée say?”

“You’d better ask her that. She seemed a bit put out that you were working today.”

“It’s better than unpacking more bridesmaids’ dresses.” Logan used his elbow to close the passenger door. “It’s like a disease. They find homes for half a dozen dresses and another ten arrive.”

Dylan didn’t bother locking his truck. They’d be back soon enough. If anyone was desperate enough to help themselves to the rest of the meals, they must need the food.

Logan followed a red brick path around the side of the church. “What have you been doing today?”

“I picked up a rare collection of Faberge eggs and delivered them to an auction house in Denver.”

“Riveting stuff.”

Dylan choked back a laugh. “It is when they’re worth millions. They were pretty enough, but you’ve got to wonder about people’s sanity. I wouldn’t pay what the catalog said they’re worth.”

Logan used his hip to push open the back door. “That’s why you weren’t invited to the auction.”

Pastor Steven looked up from the kitchen counter, his wide smile welcoming them into the room. “I could smell Tess and Annie’s cooking from a mile away. Roast beef?”

Dylan left his box beside Pastor Steven. “You guessed right. Annie packed some dessert in a separate box. She said to tell you that the cheesecakes should go straight in the fridge.”

Logan started emptying the foil-wrapped plates out of his box. “How many are you expecting tonight?” he asked Pastor Steven.

“We’ve already got twenty people in the dining room. I wouldn’t be surprised if another twenty arrive in the next half hour.”

A young boy with bright red hair and neon freckles walked through the kitchen door.

He stopped and frowned when he saw Dylan. “You haven’t been here for ages. Dad thought you must have gone somewhere else to work.”

Dylan held his hand out and the boy raced across the room. They did the same secret handshake they’d done for the last six months. “I’m not going anywhere, squirt. Do you want to help me set the tables?”

“Dad’s already got me on knife and fork duty,” the little boy said.

“You’ll need spoons, too. Annie and Tess made cheesecake.” Dylan watched a smile shoot across Franky’s face.

“You should come back for dinner more often.”

Before Dylan said another word, Franky grabbed a handful of utensils and went back into the dining room.

“How’s Franky’s dad doing?” Dylan asked.

“He got a job pumping gas at the station on Gallatin Road. It’s helping with a few of their bills, but they’ve got a way to go.”

“Did Franky get the Little League uniform?”

Pastor Steven smiled. “I gave it to him last week. He was so excited that he didn’t know what to do with himself. It was thoughtful of you to do that for him.”

Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “He shouldn’t have to pull out of baseball because his dad can’t afford a new uniform.”

Logan put another box on the counter and glanced at Dylan. “There’s a disturbing pattern emerging here. You’re talking and I’m doing all the work.”

“It’s called working smarter not harder,” Dylan said. “Besides, writing a story about sweaty police officers isn’t exactly body breaking work.”

Logan emptied the box and put some of the dinners in the large commercial oven. “Beats hauling eggs to Denver.”

Pastor Steven looked around the kitchen. “We’ll need the rest of the boxes brought inside. Dinner should be ready in ten minutes.”

Logan held the door open for Dylan. “After you.”

“You trying to impress me with your manners?”

“I’m making sure you go to your truck and don’t disappear into the dining room. Franky won’t let you out of his sight when you get in there.” Logan shut the door and walked down the path. “You want to tell me why you were staring into space when you arrived?”

“Not particularly.”

Logan grinned. “The strong silent type doesn’t impress me. You’ll have to leave that for the ladies.”

Dylan felt a blush work its way up his neck and kept walking.

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me a woman had you contemplating the meaning of life?”

He opened the canopy on the back of his truck. “We probably should have taken the cheesecakes out first. If they’ve melted everywhere, I’ll tell Tess it was your fault.”

Logan didn’t seem worried about the cheesecake issue. He seemed more worried about Dylan, and that was something Dylan didn’t need.

“Who is she?”

He put the biggest box in Logan’s arms. “No one you know.”

“You wanna bet? I know most people in Bozeman, or someone who knows someone else. Tell me a name and I’ll let you know if their dossier has passed across my desk at the Chronicle.”

“You sound like James Bond,” he grumbled.

“Not going to work. I won’t be distracted by frivolous complements. Who is she?”

He was saved from answering by the toot of a car horn.

Logan gave him an evil glare. “You’ve bought yourself time.”

Dylan would take whatever was on offer.

Tess, Logan’s fiancée, parked her car and walked toward them. “Have you taken the cheesecakes inside?” She looked at the box in Logan’s hands. “I hope that’s not what I think it is?”

Dylan watched Logan plaster a besotted smile on his face. It usually worked its magic on Tess, but it wasn’t working today.

She looked inside the canopy and tutted. “The only thing in here are the cheesecakes. What were you thinking?”

“About how good they’re going to taste,” Dylan said as he took another box out of his truck.

Tess lifted the last box into her arms and followed Logan along the path. “Lock your truck, Dylan. There are lots of people waiting for their dinner.”

He did as he was told. It didn’t pay to mess with his best friend’s fiancée, especially when that same woman was Annie’s boss and friend.

If making a bride’s dream come true is easy…why is falling in love so hard? Annie O’Leary’s life ended the day her baby died. But then she moved to Montana and found a purpose, a reason for waking up each morning. There’s something about Bozeman, something about the friends she’s made that keeps her feet firmly anchored to the ground and her heart in one piece. Dylan Bayliss is an Army veteran and security specialist. He’s lived his life on the edge and paid a higher price than most. He’s about to
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