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“I’d had a twenty-four-hour bug I’d thought I’d gotten over, but I was apparently still contagious.”
“Wow,” he says. “How did that go?”
“It was pretty ugly, but they did get married. The bride was just a little pale in her wedding pictures. Oh, and she gave it to the groom, who had the virus while flying to Barcelona for their honeymoon.”
“Yikes,” Grayson says. “And you were in every one of these weddings as a bridesmaid?”
“Every single one.”
He leans his head back on the rock, his eyes focusing on the space in front of us. “That’s pretty crazy.”
“Do you believe me now?”
He shrugs his shoulder and then looks at me. “I think you just might have had some bad luck.”
“Which also could be called a jinx,” I say. “And now I’ll ruin Nadia’s wedding. I think I’ve already started.” I look around at the rainforest surrounding us.
“We’ll get out of here,” he says.
“I believe you. Dead or alive, we’ll get out of here at some point.”
“We won’t die,” he says. “I promise.”
“Have any survival skills under your belt?”
“I know a few things,” he says.
ABlue Lagoon–type fantasy passes through my mind. Me and Grayson stranded here, learning to survive off the land, discovering each other’s bodies during the night. Okay, maybe I don’t want to be found right away. Of course, in this scenario, we’d also probably have to deal with attacks from deadly animals that I’m sure live in the rain forest. We’d also, most likely, end up fighting all the time because we’re hot and tired and haven’t eaten a real meal. Not to mention how bad I smell when I go days without deodorant. This fantasy sucks.
“Promise me if we’re stuck here for longer than a day, you’ll just roll me off a cliff.”
“Never,” he says. “I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.”
“Oh yes, so I can ruin your future wedding. Grayson can’t walk down the aisle because of a stubborn back injury from carrying an injured woman out of the rainforest.”
“Worth it,” he says.
“You say that now.”
He chuckles lightly. “Wait, you said seven weddings.”
I let out a breath. “I did.”
I was hoping he wasn’t going to bring that one up. In fact, I’d try to skirt right over that. Why didn’t I say six? Six is enough proof. It wasn’t enough for Nadia, though. Maybe I should have told her about number seven.
“What happened with that one?”
TWO YEARS AGO
THAT’S RIGHT. WEDDING NUMBER SEVEN, the cake topper of them all, was my own wedding.
Monty asked me to marry him the night of Abby’s wedding. We’d taken a walk out by the Snoqualmie Falls during the dancing part of the reception, which I got out of by saying I wanted to spend time alone with him since I hadn’t seen him for a few days.
It was a chilly night, and I had his suit jacket on over my dusty-rose bridesmaid dress as we walked along the wooden pathway leading to the falls.
“I’ve missed you these past few days,” he said as we strolled hand in hand.
“I’ve missed you too,” I told him.
