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“Nah, he said weddings weren’t his scene.”
“I think it’s that assistant of his, if you ask me. If she doesn’t go, he doesn’t go.”
Hawk snickered. “Yeah, Adrian mentioned inviting the whole crew, but he didn’t want the groomsmen to outnumber the bridesmaids.”
Just how many friends did Adrian have?
We all took our seats, and the meal was served. Prime rib with au jus, slices of ham, pasta salads, and fruit. It alltasted delicious.
A card was situated in the center of the table every few feet or so.
“What’s this?” I asked, lowering my fork to pry it from its stand for a closer look.
It was labeledKissing Menuand listed several suggestions those in the crowd could do in order to earn the honor of watching the bride and groom smooch.
These suggestions included serenading them with a love song, sharing a memory those in attendance have of either of them, or offering a toast to their future together.
Hawk leaned in. His musky scent drifted closer to me, clear and unwanted.
I glared at him. He didn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe he did. Maybe that was why his grin widened.
“We should give this one a try,” he said, pointing.
This option on the Kissing Menu read:Kiss. Show the couple how it’s done.
In spite of myself, my stomach knotted. I brushed it off. “Aw, that’s sweet. You mean you and Maddox?”
Hawk narrowed his eyes, and I answered the look with a smirk of my own.
Take that.
I dug back into my dinner when something else caught my eye.
“Looks like you have one stashed away for later,” I said.
“Hm?”
I pointed with my fork to the half-hidden envelope hidden beneath his plate. The corner poked its head out. “Your plate. There’s something underneath it.”
“You leaving me love notes already?” He slid the paper out.
I gestured to theKissing Menu. “You’re hiding one to take home? Aw, that’s cute. You need tips on how to woo women.”
His expression was either angelic or devilish, and I couldn’t figure out which it was before he said, “Trust me, I know exactly how to woo women.”
My neck burned. For some reason, I didn’t doubt that in the slightest.
“Must be some other gimmick the bride and groom have going on,” he muttered, sliding his finger into the envelope to open it.
The card inside was a piece of lovely stationery with gold embossment curling around a single flower. The longer he read, the deeper the crease between his brows grew.
“What is it?” I asked, curious.
“That’s weird.” Hawk handed it to me.
I took the card and read:
