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perfectly prepared pork chop and cheesy potatoes. She faced the Queen. “I was thinking about the wickedly sinful sauce on the pork chops…wondering if I could place the ingredients. It’s so delectable it had me distracted.”
    The Queen seemed to mull over Paige’s excuse. For a second, Paige thought she’d fallen for it. “Did you come to any conclusions? What do you think is in the sauce?”
    Tousled curls, prickly whiskers, eager kisses…
    “Hmm…” Oh, lordy. “Mustard, definitely.”
    The Queen raised her eyebrows as if she was impressed. Paige had no idea why. The mustard taste was obvious.
    “And I’m thinking bourbon…,” Paige said, thankful that some random synapse in her brain had managed to fire out a decent guess.
    The Queen nodded, and everyone appeared to start chewing again. A collective sigh of relief for Paige practically sent a draft through the cavernous dining room.
    “It has a Creole flavor.” Paige couldn’t believe why she hadn’t just stopped while she was ahead, and Liza shot her a look that said as much. Since Liza was seated next to the Queen, there was little risk of her getting caught with her pale green eyes all bugged out. Sylvia shifted her gaze from Paige to the Queen and back. Even Lane looked as if he knew Paige had taken an unadvisable risk.
    Paige gulped a swallow of water, since her wineglass was already empty.
    After a beat, the Queen beamed. “High marks for you, Paige. That’s one of the specialty sauces we use at our resorts. We call it Creole Mustard Bourbon Sauce, so I’d say your palate is fine-tuned.”
    “Just when I thought I’d burned out my taste buds,” Paige joked.
    Everyone laughed, even Lane, whose smile disarmed Paige a trillion times more than any interrogation from the Queen ever could. Two super-sexy dimples—confirmed. Paige looked away from him quickly, afraid her gaze might get stuck on him if she didn’t. Just like her mom used to tell Paige when she crossed her eyes, although that had never stopped her.
    “So what was the question?” Paige asked Liza.
    “I was saying that Cole and I wanted to have a small wedding, and you’d agreed to be my maid of honor—my only bridesmaid.”
    Paige nodded. “For sure. I couldn’t let you stand there all alone while you said ‘I do’ to a blissful-ever-after with your All-Star fiancé. Besides, you need someone to catch you if you swoon.” Paige was so happy for Liza, but her heart felt a little hollow, wishing she was looking forward to her own wedding…her own romance. If she could just get out of Maple Creek, she’d meet more single men under the age of sixty—and less uptight than Lane.
    Sylvia shook her head, grinning.
    “So it’s settled,” Paige said. “You and Cole had that off-the-charts romantic proposal in front of, like, the entire world, so you’re doing a low-key wedding. Can we get on with planning it already?”
    “I hear there’s something in the works,” Mayor Warren said.
    Paige lowered her eyebrows just as the Queen gave Mayor Warren a sharp look. How would he have heard such a thing if Paige hadn’t? Paige shifted her gaze from Liza to Sylvia and back. “Really?”
    But it was the Queen who answered. “The Hawthorne family is honored to host the wedding at Caldera, our resort in St. Lucia.”
    Paige’s heart flipped. “For real? We’re going to St. Lucia and staying at Caldera?” She had no idea how she’d ever afford the trip, but she planned to worry about that after her credit card got declined.
    Sylvia blotted her mouth with her linen napkin. “Mrs. Hawthorne graciously invited Liza and Cole to get married at Caldera. The resort will be exclusively ours, and totally off-limits to the paparazzi.”
    “That’s awesome,” Lane said. “I’ve seen the ads for Caldera. It’s clearly paradise.”
    “Our little piece of it,” the Queen said proudly.
    “We think the setting will be perfect.” Liza positively glowed. “Especially with winter