“You think so?”

“You were pretty handsy, Julie.”

“Just doing my job, Jay.” But the way she touches my arm—sensuously, seductively—doesn’t feel like she’s thinking about work at all.

Seconds later, the bride strides over to me, extending a hand. “I’m Ashley. So great to meet you . . . Jay.” In her soft North Carolina twang, she overemphasizes my name because, of course, she knows Chip hired me. Ashley turns to Truly. “You must be Julie. So glad you could come too. And I saw you met my little bestie. Isn’t she a doll? Pugalove’s the reason I’m here today.”

“Is Pugalove a matchmaker?” Truly asks with a smile.

“You bet she is.” With a knowing grin, Ashley stage-whispers, “She served as my guy magnet. Helped locate the right man for me.”

“She has some top-notch man radar, then?” Truly looks just shy of smiling at the bride’s candid good humor.

“She absolutely does. And boy, was it tough out there before then. Finding a good man is harder than finding a bra that fits you just right.”

“Well, that’s a level-five challenge right there.”

“I know. I spent years looking for just the right fit. But dating these days? That’s a level ten.”

“You're telling me. It’s rough out there in those waters.”

I grit my teeth at Truly even alluding to the cruel world of modern dating.

“Exactly. But when you have a dog like Pugalove, friendly and with excellent radar, you have an icebreaker with the handsome fellas.”

“So how exactly does her radar work? Did she find Chip for you or grease the wheels?”

“Well, in my defense, I did spot him myself. I’d seen him heading into the dog park a few times, and I had a hunch about him because he was so sweet with his dog. I thought, He’s got to be a good one, and all I wanted was to finally meet a real nice guy like that. So I timed my visit one day. I brought Pugalove when I knew he’d be there, and once I let her off-leash, she ran right up to him and Pugalicious. Two seconds later, she wagged her tail, asked for a little ear scratch, and that was all she wrote. Boom. Done.”

“Wow. She opened the door and gave you her seal of approval at the same time.”

“Exactly. Like she knew what I needed, and I definitely needed him. Chip and I talked for an hour, and he asked me out that night, and the rest is history, all thanks to her.”

“She’s the perfect wingwoman.”

“She’s a rescue pup, but really, she rescued me from the misery of dating jerks. I love her.”

I flash back to Chip’s words from last night. Yep, this woman is staying for him. Absolutely.

Truly gestures toward the inn. “She earned the maid-of-honor job, then. I’d say she deserves a slice of steak-flavored wedding cake for helping you find true love.”

“I know, right? Don’t we all want that? And listen, sweetie, if you ever need any tips on dating, let me know. I can give you the number of the pug rescue or the address of some dog parks.” Ashley points from Truly to me. “Unless y’all decide to level up. And if you do, you’d make a hella cute couple.”

She waves and spins around, and I’m left holding a bowl full of dating advice from the newlyweds. I suppose it’s fitting they’re trying to tell us how it all works. Simply being married doesn’t qualify one to give advice, but being happily in love makes you dole it out with abandon, because everyone should be so lucky.

I let go of Truly’s hand and join the ridiculously happy couple for photos, feeling strangely empty.

When she reaches the end of the aisle, Ashley’s gaze finds Chip’s, and her smile is wildly happy and a bit wicked. She gives a tiny little wave and whispers, "Hey, you handsome man.”

“Hey, beautiful bride.”

“Are you ready?” she whispers.

“So ready,” he whispers back.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you.”

“I’ve been waiting longer.”

“No, I have.”

“No, I have.”

I bet this is how they were in the dog park, lovey and sweet.

They take their vows, and it suits everything I’ve seen of them, from that private exchange to when the justice of the peace pronounces them man and wife and tells Chip he may kiss the bride.

But she’s faster on the draw. Ashley grabs her husband’s face and plants a massive smooch on his lips. Yes, she’s keeping him.

Truly shoots me a smile that’s neither naughty nor droll. It’s simply . . . sweet.

And it does something to my cold heart.

Something that feels a bit like a thaw.

And that’s a whole lot of a problem.

Chip and Ashley’s plan to keep Amelia at bay seems to have worked. Jana keeps Sully occupied, Irene keeps Troy busy, and Amelia seems to have gotten the message that we’re all partnered up.

She’s ceased the flirting and instead is making besties with Truly at the head table later that night. “So there’s the guy at school . . . I can’t decide if I hate him or maybe love him . . . or if he loves me or hates me. It’s all so confusing, and I don't know what to do.”

“What makes it so confusing? Can you give me an example?” Truly asks, in that helpful tone she has with people she hardly knows. Must be another reason why she’s so good at her job. She’s great with people. She can talk to anyone, and find common ground with them.

“Well, he did listen to Ariana Grande with me. That’s a good sign that he likes me, isn’t it?”

“I’d say it’s a great sign.”

“But he also didn’t invite me to the dance next weekend, and it would be awesome if he asked me.”

“Well, does he know you like him? Sometimes men need a little reassurance before they put themselves out there.”

“True. He did Snapchat me earlier today and I never wrote back. Maybe I should Snapchat him back.”

“I think you should go for it. Snapchat him tonight.”