Page 7 of The Other Plan

Shit. She was right. Not only was this wine barrel a very ineffective hiding place, the only way out of here was into the woods behind the little makeshift bar. But even that wasn’t a clean getaway because it required an out-in-the-open sprint to safety to reach the trees. I could also bolt through the yard to the house, but Carter Sullivan was standing in said yard.

As panic rose inside me and bubbled like a pot on a stove threatening to boil over, I took a deep, stilling breath and tried to simmer it down.

I’m Jenna Parker. I’m a strong, confident woman. I’m a wedding planner who puts out fires for a living. Just because I threw the kindling on this one and he lit the match means nothing. I can handle this.

Handling emergencies with a cool, calm head was my forte. I could not fall apart. Not now. Not ever. This was the time to do what I did best.

Plan.

Escape strategies rolled through my brain, but each one proved impossible to execute. There was no fire alarm to pull, no wall of bodies to blend behind, no darkness to swallow up my escape. Not for at least another hour when the sun set.

Trapped. I was trapped.

“My phone is on the bar by your hand,” I whispered. “I’m going to text Cameron to get his ass over here and distract everyone so I can sneak out. It’s the safest way.”

Jo continued holding her tense posture as she slid her hand across the bar, then casually, she dropped my phone into my lap. As I clicked on Cameron’s contact and started typing my SOS, Jo kicked me in the leg.

“Ouch!” I grumbled.

“He’s coming. Holy crap. He’s coming over,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

My already pounding heart thumped like a bass drum in a metal band.

“No! What? No!” I shifted back and forth, staring at the woods in front of me and wondering if I could make it. But before I had a chance to run for my life, I heard the same sexy, deep voice that had whispered “I love you” into my ear while we sat on the sand beside the ocean.

“Hey,” he said to Jo, and even though I couldn’t see him, I heard his smile in the tone of his voice. That beautiful, charming smile that creased deep dimples into his cheeks and caused his eyes to sparkle.

The one that still appeared sometimes in my dreams.

“Uh, hey,” Jo answered flatly, and her short, awkward response made me cringe. From a wedding planner standpoint, I would have scolded her for not being friendly to a guest. But this wasn’t just any guest. This was the man who’d broken her sister’s heart and considering Jo had kicked the crap out of people for less, I had to let go of the fact she wasn’t offering service with a smile and just be glad she didn’t smack him.

“So, Eric sent me over to get a cherry Moscow mule. Says it’s the signature Door County drink, and I have to have one.”

He’s smiling wider now. I can envision him.

“Coming right up,” Jo grumbled, then started scooping ice from the metal bucket into a glass as I tried to keep my breathing steady.

“You work a lot of weddings?” he asked.

“Nope.” She poured the cherry juice over the ice.

After a moment of awkward silence, he started up his friendly chatter again. “I’m Carter. I’m Eric’s college roommate and the best man, so if you could make my drinks a little weak tonight, I’d appreciate it. I don’t want to make an ass of myself in front of the family on our first night.”

“No problem.”

Best man? My heart stuttered to a stop with those words. If Carter was the best man, that meant that even if I skated out of here unseen tonight, there would be no avoiding him during the next six days of activities I’d planned and needed to supervise.

Panic like I’d never felt coursed through my veins as I contemplated tossing Cameron the reins to this entire affair. I’d have him tell the Bronson’s I’d fallen and cracked my head and would be in a coma in the hospital all week.

But these were the Bronson’s. And if Cameron told them any harm had come to me preventing me from being here, the entire family would race to my bedside. There would be no faking a coma where the Bronson’s were concerned. And hell... Aunt Tilly would probably send for her private surgeons to come check up on the work of my doctors.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Even though Jo continued ignoring him, Carter kept up his friendly chatter. “If I’m being honest, I hate weddings, so I’ll be easing my pain with booze. Just not too much, and no matter what I say, don’t let me start doing tequila shots. Those always end up with a hangover for days and embarrassing stories for life.”

Instead of chuckling at his joke, Jo remained silent and topped off his drink with ginger beer. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. You know, it’s funny. You look so much like this girl I used to know. For a split second, when I first saw you, I thought you were her. It’s uncanny, actually. You could be twins. But she had a little bit of green and a few flecks of gold in her brown eyes.”