Hailey Makes The Boy Bride -

“You know,” he said, “most men give their wife a ring.”

“You planned this,” he accused, dipping her low.

“Let them stare,” Hailey said. She picked up a bouquet of wildflowers—his bouquet—and pressed it into his calloused hands. “You lost fair and square. Now, smile. You’re a beautiful bride.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Hailey murmured, adjusting the veil that cascaded down his broad shoulders. She was dressed in a sharp, tailored tuxedo, her auburn hair slicked back. Her grin was that of a cat who had not only caught the canary but had also taught it to sing opera. Hailey Makes The Boy Bride

“I want a wedding,” Hailey had announced at the town council meeting, her boots up on the oak table. “And I’m not the one wearing the dress.”

Normally, the Harvest Festival ended with a pie-eating contest or a square dance. But this year, the mayor had lost a bet. And the mayor, a sharp-eyed woman named Hailey Cross, always collected her debts.

Hailey’s grin softened into something real. When she slid the ring onto his finger, she leaned in and whispered, “Good. Because I’m not giving you back.” “You know,” he said, “most men give their wife a ring

Hailey shrugged. “Most men don’t make such pretty brides.”

At midnight, as they walked home past the very bridge he’d built, Leo stopped. He looked down at the dress, then at her.

Here is the story based on your title, "Hailey Makes The Boy Bride" . The town of Pineridge had never seen a wedding like it. “You lost fair and square

He’d lost the bet on purpose. The bridge was perfect.

The ceremony was a spectacle. The minister, a man with a wobbling voice, asked, “Do you, Leo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”