The Meltdown Match (A Romance Novella) by Rachael Anderson Page B

believe her. His world had been shaken and it didn’t feel right yet.
    Courtney intertwined her fingers with his and swallowed. “Look, I don’t know what the future holds for me, for us, or for my writing. But what I do know is that from here on out, I’m choosing to believe in us rather than some silly superstitions. I’m in love with you, Mitchell Winters, and I want to be here with you. For always and no matter what.”
    A light breeze blew past, making him wonder if the wind really did have restorative properties. As it came and went, all of the heaviness and worry and heartache seemed to leave with it. He lifted Courtney’s hands, bringing her closer. “You’ll really be happy living here with me?”
    “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Although I do still want to travel and research places for my books. But I’m hoping you’ll come with me.”
    The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile. “So long as you don’t mind if I check out the engineering side of things while we’re there.”
    “Of course not.” A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. “In fact, maybe my next book will be about an engineer.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Will his name be Mitch?”
    “Definitely.”
    “Will he have x-ray vision and be able to see through roads so people know exactly where to dig?”
    Courtney’s lips twitched as she shook her head. “No.”
    “Will he be a brilliant mathematician who never has to use a calculator?”
    “No.”
    “Oh.” He shrugged, out of ideas. “I guess he’ll have to be the guy who can sense when two people are supposed to be together and manipulates the situation so they are.” He grinned as he tugged on a lock of her hair. “Like with salt.”
    Her forehead creased in thought, and she drew her lower lip into her mouth for a moment before letting it out. “You mean like Cupid?”
    Mitch frowned, picturing a naked cherub with a pink bow and tiny white wings. “No, not like Cupid. That was just a joke—a bad one.”
    “Well, I like it. And considering how all of my ideas have been inspired by one of your bad jokes, it’s got merit.”
    If that was the case, Mitch really needed to stop joking, especially when it came to characters named Mitch. “What about Hercules instead? He’s pretty cool.”
    “No, I like Cupid.”
    “Zeus? Poseidon? I’d even take Hades.”
    Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I think I’ve finally figured out the perfect nickname for yours truly—one that will be as fitting and endearing to you as Salt is to me.” She grinned. “Cupid.”
    This conversation was getting out of control. “I don’t think so.”
    “I do.” Her fingers pressed on the back of his neck, trying to pull his head toward hers, but Mitch resisted. “Oh, c’mon, Cupid,” she said with a slight pout on her lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
    Mitch grasped for something—anything—to make the nickname go away. “Okay, fine, you win. I promise to stop calling you Salt if you never say that word again.”
    “Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid, Cupid—”
    Mitch’s mouth covered hers with a kiss meant to erase all thoughts about engineers and books and Cupid. However, as her lips moved across his and her fingers worked their way through his hair, he was the one who forgot about everything but her.
     
     

The day of June Solstice dawned overcast and rainy. Through her window, Courtney frowned at the skies as she smoothed her fingers against the soft satin of her wedding gown. This was all wrong. According to the weather report, the skies were supposed to be clear, the day sunny. A perfect day for an outdoor wedding.
    Her mother kept promising that it would clear up, that Courtney needed to finish getting ready, but the clouds didn’t break, and the rain continued to splatter lightly against her window pane.
    Not good.
    Courtney’s stomach twisted into knots at the implication. She forced herself to take a deep, calming