“The bride’s ex one-thousand percent pulled a ‘Friends in Low Places’ at the reception.”
Rachel’s mouth fell open. “He did not!”
From where she leaned against one of the prep tables in the bakery kitchen, Cayla lifted her palm. “Hand to God. He straight up started quoting the lyrics. I thought the groom was going to blow a gasket, but thankfully the best man and one of the other groomsmen managed to haul him out before he got to the third verse.”
God, Rachel was so enjoying this pipeline of small-town gossip.
At another table across the kitchen, Jonah kneaded and stretched his latest batch of sourdough. “Video or it didn’t happen.”
Cayla scowled. “Now what kind of professional would I be if I took video that was YouTube worthy at one of my clients’ weddings instead of working to smoot
