Page 52 of The Other Plan

“Thanks, baby.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She leaned into him.

It should have been nauseating watching their sugary sweetness, but instead, I just felt happy for them. Eric loved Valentina completely. He’d known he wanted to marry her from the very first night he’d met her at the bar where she’d completely decimated a song on karaoke. The way she’d just owned her horrible voice and rocked it out had him staring at her with some serious heart eyes.

She was the yin to his yang, and unlike Camilla and me, she never tried to change him. She accepted him for exactly who he was, just like he accepted her for exactly who she was. And right now, she was the girl forcing us to wear pink and buying him matching visors. But he rolled with it because he loved her that much, and in a way I’d never been able to love Camilla. I should have known long ago when she’d tried to force me to be someone I wasn’t, that she and I were doomed.

I’d never loved her the way that I had loved Jenna.

Jenna glanced at me, then lowered her eyes, her thick lashes stealing them from view.

“Well, I think we should pair up,” Eric said, casting me a knowing look.

“Yes,” Aunt Tilly said as she ambled up. “How are we pairing off?”

Eric took charge. “Everyone good at golf, raise their hands.”

I lifted mine up. My career had forced me to get good at the game so I could schmooze potential clients on the course. It wasn’t my cup of tea, and I’d take surfing or paddleboarding over it any day of the week, but I was pretty good.

“And who isn’t very good?”

Most of the bridesmaids raised their hands along with a couple groomsmen.

“Okay, I’m gonna pair a golfer with a non-golfer.” He lifted his finger and started calling names and putting people together. After he pointed to me, he casually flicked his finger to Jenna as my partner then kept on going. I had to hand it to him, it looked so natural I didn’t think even Jenna would know I’d put him up to it.

Her wide eyes lifted and met mine, horror swirling around in her stare. I just raised my hand and wiggled my fingers and smiled at her like the Cheshire cat.

This is going to be fun.

As all the teams started pairing off, I strode over to Jenna. “Well, hey there, Casper. Looks like you’re riding with me.”

“Casper?”

“Casper, the ghost. Don’t you remember him from cartoons?”

Shame crept into her eyes. “Don’t call me Casper.”

“Why not? You ghosted me this morning, so I think it’s pretty fitting. Oh, wait.” I pressed my finger to my chin. “Casper was the friendly ghost, and I don’t think sneaking out of bed and leaving me without a word is considered very friendly.”

“I had to get up early to get everything organized for today’s outing,” she defended, but I saw the lie in her eyes.

“Yeah. Definitely not Casper.” I lifted my finger. “You’re more like Moaning Myrtle, the ghost from Harry Potter. She was pretty bitter and cranky like you.” I leaned in. “And it also fits because you were really moaning last night.”

Her eyes went big as her mouth fell open.

“How’s it going?” Cameron asked as he hopped to my side. “Looks like I’m riding with Eric, and the four of us are gonna be a team. Whoot!” He lifted a fist in the air, but Jenna just kept staring at me, stunned.

I held her eye contact as I bumped his fist with mine. “Can’t wait, Cameron. Let’s ride.”

He shimmied in his pink pants and ran over to Eric’s cart. Eric gave me a quick nod before turning his attention to Cameron and heading off.

I started off toward an empty golf cart and cast a look over my shoulder at Jenna, who still stood unmoving. “Come on, Myrtle. Let’s go. Oh, and I’m driving. I don’t want you ditching me on the golf course or something.”

My cocky smile induced another wide-eyed stare from her. A few moments later, she walked defeatedly over to the cart and climbed into the passenger seat. I grinned at her and pressed the gas pedal, heading out after Eric. The Bronson’s had orchestrated it so that we had the whole course to ourselves, so instead of all waiting to tee off at the first hole, we’d planned a shotgun start where each group teed off at a different hole, eventually working their way through them all. This allowed us to all play simultaneously.

“I’m sorry I snuck out this morning,” she finally offered. “I didn’t want to wake you, and I really did have stuff to do.”

I guided the cart along the bright green grass and down the hill behind Eric. “I believe you that you had stuff to do. I don’t believe you that you didn’t want to wake me. Your ass got freaked out and ran.”