Betting on You

A Summerville Novel

(Always a Bridesmaid #1)

By Jessie Evans

He'd always bet on her, always...

Lark March is
over
Mason Stewart, so over him she's practically forgotten the cruel way he ended things four years ago. At least that's what she's told her sisters... But when Mason shows up at her best friend's wedding, talking sweet and looking even sweeter, Lark can't deny the man still gets to her in a major way.

Mason Stewart was a messed up kid, but he's a man now, a man who knows what he wants and won't stop until he's convinced the only woman he's ever loved that they are meant to be. He persuades Lark to give him seven days to remind her why they belong together. At the week's end, Lark may tell him to get out of her life for good, but Mason's betting on true love for the win. 

But when old secrets come to light, Lark and Mason will find their rediscovered love tested, and happily ever after harder to hold on to than either of them wagered.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2013 Jessie D. Evans

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Cover image by Yuri Arcurs for Fotolia. Cover design by Bootstrap Designs. Editing by Edited Ever After Editorial
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Jell-O-Kraft Food Group Brands, LLC. Blues Clues c. Viacom International

Other Novels by Jessie Evans

Keeping You

Wild For You

Catching You

Taking You

Dedicated to New Beginnings.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

The night before her best friend, Lisa’s, wedding—and her seventh turn as a bridesmaid—Lark March had all of her weirdest anxiety dreams.

Every. Single. One.

Babysitting her sister, Aria’s, baby and she loses the eight-month-old in the stuffed animal collection?

Check.

Crawling through a miniature Dutch pancake house with doors too small for her to squeeze through while “It’s a Small World” plays on endless repeat?

Check.

Getting knocked over the head, blacking out, and waking up in the middle of the early church service her Nana hasn’t missed in thirty-five years, wearing nothing but a fine layer of caramel corn stuck to her body like a bad cat suit and a bubblegum bow in her hair?

Check and check.

(She’d had that one twice, because apparently one “naked and covered in candy in front of old people” dream wasn’t enough for her subconscious.)

As a result of all the panicked dreaming, Lark woke up exhausted.

Exhausted, on the biggest day of her best friend’s life, not to mention the biggest catering job of Lark’s career.
Ever After Catering
had been growing steadily since she started the business three years ago, but she’d never handled an event like Lisa’s reception.

There was going to be a twenty-foot appetizer buffet, a sit down steak or salmon dinner for three hundred people, and a dessert spread featuring a five tier wedding cake, three different kinds of groom’s cake—Lisa’s soon-to-be husband and his two brothers all had very strong, but very opposing, views on cake—cupcakes with sprinkles for the kids, chocolate pie for Lisa’s Gran, an edible ice sculpture, and a white chocolate fountain.

And, out of all that, the ice sculpture was the
only
thing Lark, her two sisters, and her staff of four weren’t making themselves.

Even knowing the cakes were mostly done and waiting at the venue, the salmon was marinating in her industrial fridge, and the salad was sitting in giant containers, just waiting to be tossed with homemade honey-lemon dressing, wasn’t enough to keep Lark’s hands from shaking as she shoved a change of clothes and her lucky apron into a duffle bag and snagged her bridesmaid’s dress from the closet. She was always a little nervous before a big job, but today was worse than usual. Today had to be perfect, not only for Lisa, but for all the guests attending the reception.

At least six of Lisa’s friends from college were planning weddings in the next year. Booking even three more “big time” receptions could help Lark take her business to the next level, allowing her to compete with more established catering companies in Atlanta.

She had to pull this off without a hitch. There was no room for error, and certainly no time for a nap.

Three cups of coffee kept her going through the epic beauty salon appointment, and crying like a baby as she watched her best friend since preschool get married kept her conscious through the receiving line and the wedding party pictures, but by the time she arrived at the venue—a lovely old home on the historic register about five miles outside of Summerville, Georgia—she was pinching herself to stay awake.

But as soon as she walked through the door to the new, super-sized kitchen the owners had added onto the home when they decided to rent it out for events, the job-in-progress adrenaline thankfully kicked in.

“How are the potatoes? Are they ready for the warmers?” Lark asked as she bustled into the room, tying her lucky apron on over her bridesmaid’s dress.

In the end, she’d been too nervous to take the time to change before heading over. She was just going to have to cook in floor-length red taffeta.

“Are they done?” Lark asked again, squinting at the stove. “We’re going to need the oven for the last minute apps in less than ten minutes.”

“Hello to you, too,” Aria, Lark’s older sister, grumbled from the far corner of the kitchen, where she was bent over the wedding cake with a tube of frosting, adding a few last minute iced tulips.

At five-seven and barely one hundred and twenty pounds, Aria was the slimmest of the March sisters, unreasonably scrawny for a pastry chef, and, lately, about as sweet as a packet of damp Sweet N Low. Ever since she had separated from her husband and moved back to Summerville five months ago, she seemed to have misplaced her sense of fun.

Lark had learned to put up with Aria’s new and
un
improved personality transplant, but she had to admit she missed the big sister who used to play pranks on their parents and stay up all night giving her sisters makeovers and telling silly stories about the guys she dated.

“You’re here!” Melody, the youngest March daughter, bounded across the room with a squeal, clapping her hands. “How was the wedding? Oh, my gosh, was it amazing? Was Lisa beautiful? Did Matt cry? Did
you
cry?”

“Great. Of course, a little, and of course,” Lark said, laughing as Melody pulled her in for a giddy hug.

Melody loved weddings almost as much as she loved to cook and only slightly less than she loved to eat. Her commitment to all things culinary meant that she had graduated from culinary school only one year behind Lark, even though Lark was two and a half years older.

The sisters shared a love of preparing food, the same long, sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, and the same gently rounded figures that gave testimony to the fact that they hit the cheese board more often than the gym. When they were younger, people often mistook them for twins, until Melody hit a growth spurt and left Lark behind. Now, when five-foot-two Lark stood between her taller sisters, she looked like a book with a pair of mismatched bookends.

No one knew where Aria’s red hair and green eyes had come from. There were rumors of a ginger-headed great-grandmother on their father’s side, but they were unsubstantiated. If Aria didn’t have their dad’s nose and freakishly long fingers—or if all three of the Summerville postmen weren’t actually post
women
—Lark knew there would have been jokes made.

“I hated to miss it,” Melody said with a sigh as she released Lark from her embrace. “Did you tell Lisa I was thinking of her?”