My undergrad buddy and her college sweetheart posed for their post-wedding photos, exchanging flirty glances, fingers interlocked, leaning on each other between takes. I watched them with a twinge of jealousy while I chatted with my old college roommate, Chelsea, also happily married. Was I the only single person here? Felt like it. Chelsea leaned in, gave me a sympathetic smile. “What kind of guy are you looking for?” she asked.
“A guy who drives a truck with a bale of hay in the back,” I answered. Chelsea laughed. Maybe I was being too picky, but I wanted a hardworking Christian man, the cowboy type, even if I hadn’t found the right one just yet. It seemed like all the good ones were already taken.
I looked up and felt myself blush—an attractive guy was sitting across from me. Luckily, he didn’t act like he’d overheard our conversation. He looks so familiar, I thought. Did he go to college with us?
The reception wound down and the bride came over to say her goodbyes. She motioned toward the strangely familiar hunk. “You see that guy there? That’s Ryan—the one I tried to hook you up with two years ago. We checked out his profile online.” Now I remembered. He hadn’t seemed like the cowboy type, and I hadn’t made much of an effort to connect.
Ryan introduced himself with a sparkle in his hazel eyes. We talked until the reception had nearly emptied out. “Would you like to hang out a little more?” he asked. Grab some dessert? You can bring your friend.”
I glanced at Chelsea. She nodded. “Alright,” I said hesitantly.
Ryan escorted us to his jeep and opened the door. A cowboy hat was on the passenger seat. Hmm. I picked it up and turned to lay it in the back.
My eyes went wide. “What…why do you have a bale of hay back here?”
“Oh that? Found it in the middle of the road. I picked it up to feed my horses back home,” he said.
I guess you could say Ryan and I hit it off. We were married six months later, and we’ll celebrate our seventh anniversary this October 4th.