Page 103
9
Ryan
The banquet hall smelled like coffee, bacon, and the kind of aggressive optimism people carried before nine in the morning when they hadn’t consumed enough alcohol the night before.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows overlooking the lawn, illuminating three long breakfast tables, two buffet stations, and a collection of pastel shirts folded into color-coordinated piles near the entrance. Pink, blue, green, yellow, and purple covered an entire table beneath a sign that read THURSDAY COMPETITION DAY, complete with hearts around the lettering.
I stopped inside the doorway.
“No.”
Briggs walked into my back before stepping around me in sunglasses and yesterday’s attitude. “You don’t even know what you’re refusing.”
I pointed toward the shirts. “Whatever that is.”
“They’re festive.”
“They look contagious.”
Briggs lifted the top shirt from the yellow pile and unfolded it. GROOMSMAN was printed over the right breast, while MERCER PARTY FOR 2 stretched across the back.
His face brightened. “I’m yellow.”
“You say that like you won something.”
“I look incredible in every color.”
“You look like you dressed as a fucking highlighter.”
Rider joined us wearing black athletic pants and the expression of a man who had already encountered too many people. He accepted the purple shirt Bliss handed him without looking at it.
“You’re supposed to put it on,” she told him.
“I’m holding it.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“It’s the most cooperation I have available before coffee.”
Bliss planted both hands on her hips. Her pastel pink shirt had BRIDE printed over the right breast and MERCER PARTY FOR 2 across the back. She’d paired it with white shorts and enough enthusiasm to make the breakfast briefing feel like mandatory summer camp.
“Everyone wears the shirts,” she announced. “They identify your position and team.”
“I know my position,” Rider said. “Hostage.”
“That wasn’t one of the options.”
“It should’ve been.”
Cade appeared behind her in a pastel blue shirt, carrying two coffees and looking far too satisfied with the situation. GROOM marked his chest, though the expression on his face already made ownership clear.
He handed one cup to Bliss and kissed her temple. “Morning.”
“Your friends are being difficult.”
“They woke up.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
