Page 76 of Blue Jean Summer

Before either of us could take a bite, the clinking started. Longtime friends of the Wilder family and professional connections from high places tapped their wineglasses in an incessant symphony.

Catherine blushed. “We’re supposed to kiss whenever they do that.”

I grimaced in disgust. “What kind of god-awful tradition is that? Pretty sure they just scared away every bird in the mountains.”

She looked up at me. “Might as well get them to stop.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I kissed her, a little deeper than when we had been dancing. I cradled her throat, my thumb gently stroking the graceful tendons. Each time felt like the first, but she had also become a familiar taste that I craved.

That craving was just growing stronger.

The clinking stopped as we broke apart. Catherine laughed and raised her wineglass in a toast to the guests. “Hopefully, they’ll let us eat now, or my mood will take a swift dive if I don’t consume some calories soon.” She spoke behind her pageant smile like a ventriloquist.

I chuckled and speared a roasted potato. “If they keep it up, I’ll take our plates into the kitchen and we can eat in there.”

“If they keep it up, I’ll have to put on more lipstick,” she said with a sheepish smile before digging into her meal.

Thankfully, we made it through most of the food before the clinking started again. The sound of cutlery on crystal was going to train me like Pavlov’s dog. The second I heard that piercing sound, my heart leaped into my chest because it meant I got to kiss her again.

“I’m going to slip into the house and change my dress,” Catherine whispered when we broke apart.

“Do you need—”

I was about to ask if she needed a hand when Savannah Scott snatched her up and whisked her out of the tent.

Weren’t weddings supposed to be attended using the buddy system? No one swims, hikes, or navigates a somewhat fake but mostly real marriage alone.

“Well, well, well.” Lewis’s sneer cut through the din of guests. “I guess you won.”

I glanced up from my plate as he sauntered over. “I didn’t win anything, Lewis. I kept what Granddad wanted for me, just like you got what he wanted for you. Or are you forgetting that you’re at the helm of a multimillion-dollar nonprofit?”

He huffed. “Don’t even pretend it’s anywhere close to fair.” He jabbed a thick finger too close to my face for comfort. “And don’t think that this is anywhere close to over.”

Lewis lunged forward, bracing his sweaty palms on the edge of the small table. “As soon as I figure out how the hell you pulled this off, it’s over for you. The estate is mine.”

“You’d have to be married for that to happen,” I said calmly as I sipped my water.

Lewis’s maniacal grin grew to a Cheshire smile. “You’re not the only newlywed around here.”

Wait.

What was that on his finger? That silver, shiny thing?

“You’re married?” I said in disbelief. “When? To who?”

Lewis looked over his shoulder and shouted at a woman. “Hey! What’s your name again?”

When the woman seated at Lewis’s table didn’t look up from her phone, he turned back to me. “It’s Jenny. No…Ginger? Or was it Janie?” He waved it off. “Either way, you’re fucked once I prove that all this is just a sham. I bet you don’t even have a marriage license.”

I had a marriage license, but that wasn’t the point. Lewis had done exactly what I thought he would: He actually married someone just to get the land.

And I was just like him.

Whoops and cheers rose as the steak and potatoes in my gut turned to stone. I pulled my attention away from Lewis to see Catherine reentering the tent.

Goddamn. Those legs.

She was in a short dress covered in white sequins, making her sparkle under the string lights.