MacNamaras Lady

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Missy Sinclair sniffed delicately and blinked hard to keep from crying. She wasn’t usually the sentimental type, but it wasn’t every day she watched her best friend get married. Candy was staring at her husband-to-be with such a rapt expression of love on her face it was impossible not to be moved by it.

The chapel was quiet, except for the even tone of the minister’s voice. A small group of family and friends watched on as the couple exchanged vows. Candy’s bouquet—pink roses—filled the air with its perfume. Fabric rustled and someone in the back coughed.

The bride was wearing a three-quarter length, off-white dress that hugged her curves to perfection. She and Candy had spent days searching for just the right dress. Her cinnamon-brown hair was swept up and held with several silver clips that Missy had helped her pick out.

Lucas Squires, the groom, looked handsome in his black tuxedo with his blond hair and pale blue eyes. He’d wanted to be married right away, but Candy had wanted a real wedding. She’d stated in no uncertain terms that since she was only doing this once she wanted to do it right. The tough guy had caved immediately, wanting Candy to be happy.

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