Page 16 of Wedding Wrecker

Then my feet touch the bottom of the pool, and I realize the water is only chest-deep as soon as I stand. Laughter echoes everywhere around me when I look up, still shocked by Logan’s attack.

He’s standing by the edge with fake-concern on his face. “You okay?” he asks but doesn’t extend his hand to me.

I guess I deserve it.

“Fine,” I mutter and seek the nearest way out. There’s a ladder nearby, but that’s in the deep end, so I put a smile on my face, for the benefit of everyone staring, and move toward the steps on the shallow side. Nothing can be done at this point, so I wade toward them, acting as if it was an accident, even though inside I’m burning with shame and self-pity.

“Kyle, are you okay?” I barely hear the question in the flood of jokes, but the voice belongs to my sister. In a green dress, and with the pixie cut framing her small face, Olivia looks like a mischievous elf who’s come here to mock me. And as she scoots down in her modest heels, I can see even she is attempting to hold back a smile. I’m such a joke, though none of the guests know the extent of it.

I’m getting married because I can’t face the consequences of withdrawing so late in the game.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, noting that my brother, Jude, is far away, attempting to charm the fifth woman today. So much for sibling care. At least Olivia is trying.

“How do you stay in the saddle when you’re so clumsy,” my sister says.

I groan and take off my soaking jacket. At least Madison isn’t here to complain that I ruined my outfit. And the shoes, which is much worse, because I only have one suit-appropriate pair. I might be nervous, but I’m not a coward, so I’m burning with the need to confront Logan.

I search for his face in the dense crowd but can’t spot it. Fuck.

“I don’t know, I must have slipped,” I groan.

“You do have more clothes, right?” Olivia asks, taking the jacket off me and holding it away from her dress.

But a member of staff is approaching us from the side. I hope they’re coming with a towel for me, but the woman’s tense expression makes me worried this is about something else.

“What is it?” I ask as soon as she reaches me, because I am ready to take whatever hit is coming my way.

She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t express concern for me. Her gaze is ice. “Sir, we had someone check your room, because your dog was making so much noise. He destroyed the sofa. Shall I remind you we made a special exception so your pet can stay here?”

The ground feels slippery under my feet, and I find myself hoping that maybe if I fall into the pool again, I won’t need to continue this conversation.

“Is Jekyll fine?” I ask the stone-faced lady.

“He is. Unlike the expensive sofa, which will need to be replaced.”

I dread to think how much it might cost, and as shameful as that is, I wonder if my future father-in-law will cover it.

“I’m on it,” I mumble and start my walk of shame through the crowd.

Wet, deflated, and unhappy.

Chapter 6

Logan

The look on Kyle’s face when he realized he was falling into the pool, not getting a friendly handjob in the middle of a crowd, was priceless. It’s still vivid in my memory how he flapped his hands about like a chicken trying to fly. I whistle a little tune just thinking about it. He has no idea this is only the beginning.

Kyle disappeared after getting wet, and I didn’t bother to search for him, opting instead for another drink, so I’m quite tipsy when I climb the stairs to my room. It’s on the top floor, and the lift doesn’t reach there, but I’m not complaining because it also has a lovely balcony and a massive bed.

I stretch at the top of the stairs before entering the hallway leading to the sanctuary, which I may or may not share with someone before this short vacation is over. My face falls the moment I see a familiar figure waiting right by my door.

Kyle is dressed in a green hoodie and jeans, and looks up from above his phone the moment I appear. A dog lies at his feet, and it now raises its ears in curiosity. The beast is an Australian shepherd with a coat in a whole palette of colors and is objectively very pretty. Its heart is certainly prettier than its owner’s.

Kyle opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something, but only waves, staring at me like a calf at its mother’s teat.

“You managed to save your phone?” I ask as if I’m not boiling on the inside. If he were someone else, I’d worry he’s come to sic his dog at me, but everything I’ve seen so far tells me he’s not particularly violent.

“I left it in my room, to socialize more,” Kyle says, and as he faces me, pushing the phone into his pocket, his dog rises into a sitting position. It has dark flecks on its blue-gray back, a white throat, and two different colors around his eyes. One’s a bright red, the other—black and makes the pooch look like he’s walking around with a massive bruise.