The Wedding Wish

Chapter One

    Isabel strolled quickly through central campus, a backpack slung over her shoulder. The backpack bounced as she scurried along, rushing to make her eleven o’clock class. The day was bright and sunny with Frisbee players dotting the green stretch of lawn. Soon spring semester would end, and a lazy summer ambiance would settle in amid the blossoming dogwoods and magnolia trees. She was studying for her Masters in Art so was determined to go straight through her program. Being a year-round student wasn’t so bad, and her job in the art library helped her afford it. The grant money didn’t hurt either. She’d never really planned to go to school in the same town where her parents lived, but when the financial packages came in, this had been the best offer she’d gotten.
    Wham! Isabel felt something slam into her shoulder, and her backpack slid to the ground.
    “Oh man! I’m so sorr—”
    She looked up into gorgeous brown eyes. He stood about six feet tall, with extra-broad shoulders and honey-blond hair.
    His expression lit up. “Isabel? Isabel Miller?”
    She paused a moment to study him; then her lips turned up in a grin. It couldn’t be, but it was. The one man who’d completely broken her heart. Of course, that had been at age twelve, but still… “Robert?”
    His face warmed all over as he held her gaze. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
    “Ditto.”
    He bent quickly to the ground and picked up her backpack, then handed it over. “I totally apologize for running into you. Are you all right?”
    “I think so,” she said, still dumbstruck. “I mean, yeah. Of course.” Robert Reed, after all this time. Since he’d morphed into a man, she was surprised she’d recognized him. Then again, she could never forget those chocolate-colored eyes.
    “I hope I didn’t leave a bruise.”
    Oh, he’d left a bruise all right. Way down deep in her heart. But that hadn’t really been his fault. “I’m sure I’ll live,” she said, sliding the backpack onto her shoulder.
    “I can’t believe you’re at Eastern,” he said. “Are you a student?”
    “Who says you can’t go home again?” she asked with a grin. “How about you?”
    “I did the same,” he told her. “I’m in med school, second year.”
    She tilted her head to the side, springy curls bouncing. “As I recall, you always had the inclination.”
    His handsome face colored from the neck up. No doubt, he remembered too. All those late afternoons in the den playing doctor. Mostly what got examined was her mouth—with his tongue. Not that she’d minded. Isabel had actually suggested the game.

    Robert stared down into pretty blue eyes, feeling his temperature spike. While he’d believed Isabel to be pretty as a kid, she was one smoking knockout now. Her golden hair still fell in ringlets past her shoulders, but those shoulders now framed an awesomely female body. “Isabel, let me explain…”
    She laughed sweetly, the sound recalling a song from long ago. “No explanations needed. Whatever you remember, I had a part in it too.”
    He fell into her eyes, the sky and trees swirling around him. How could she still do this to him after so much time? “Yes. I mean…” He stammered slightly. “We both did. Want to.”
    “I sure did,” she said, her pretty face aglow.
    Robert suddenly remembered his mission. “It’s been so great seeing you, but I’ve got to get somewhere.”
    Isabel checked the time on her cell. “Me too.”
    “Where are you headed?”
    “To the Art Center. And you?”
    His face flamed. “I’m uh…” He glanced quickly around the quad. “Going that way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction. “Say, Isabel,” he said before she could turn to go. “Do you think we could meet up later? It would be great to grab a cup of coffee and hear what you’ve been up to.”
    Her face brightened in a smile. “Coffee later sounds great.”
    “Meet me at the Student Center? Three o’clock?”
    “Three it is,” she said, dashing off.

    Isabel took a seat before an easel and pulled a stash of pastel pencils from her backpack.
    “You know what I hate about these life drawing classes?” Cindy asked from beside her. “It’s the models they get. We’re supposed to be talking body form here. Think Michelangelo’s David. But all we ever get are these little skinny dudes. Waiflike, if you can even apply that term to guys.”
    “All bodies are beautiful in their own way.” She was glad she’d