The Worst Wedding Date

I don’t see Theo again until I dash onto the lanai a few minutes before the rehearsal dinner is supposed to start, and alarm bells go off in every part of me the minute we make eye contact.

My parents are here.

I don’t see them.

I don’t hear them.

But I know they are, and not just because they’re supposed to be, and they texted to let me know they’d landed and gotten checked in.

It’s the look on his face—that wary, did you mean it when you said your parents would have to accept that you can make your own choices? look on his face—that telegraphs that they’re here, they’ve seen him, and they’ve passed judgment without him doing a damn thing beyond existing.

I beeline to him without telling Emma or Sabrina or Claire where I’m going.

Pretty sure they all know.

Pretty sure Emma’s ecstatic that we’re getting along.

Thank goodness.

Someone needs to be.

“Are you cooking?” I whisper to him as he hovers at the edge of the lanai where it’s easiest to roll out the food from the bistro kitchen. There’s a smear of something on his shirt.

“Got help.”

“You are amazing.” I want to throw myself at him. Kiss him. Thank him. Touch him.

But I know my parents are here, and dammit dammit dammit, be bigger than this, Laney.

Be bigger.

Touch him.

“Dress okay?” He stares at something on my left cheek instead of making eye contact.

“Yes. We got the dress fixed. I don’t have a clue why it was sent to the cleaners, or what they thought they were doing with it that was most definitely not cleaning it, but we have it, and it took most of the day, but it’s fixed, and it’s fine. Are you okay? What do you need?”

Wary eyes finally look at me full-on. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look good.”

“I’m good.”

“Theo, I—”

“Delaney! Sweetheart, we missed you.”

My shoulders tense at the sound of my mother’s voice, but I don’t turn around to say hi.

Not yet.

First, I lift a brow at Theo. “Did they do something?”

“Gotta go make sure dinner’s ready.”

“Theo.”

“Long day. Up in my head. Working on it.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s working on it.

But he is turning around and walking away with a muttered, “They missed you.”

“There’s my girl.” My mom squeezes me in a hug from the side. I glance up in time to see her wrinkle her nose at Theo’s backside.

And that’s all it takes to make me tense.

When I was little, Mom wore jeans and T-shirts to work. She had long hair that she pulled back in a ponytail, and girls’ day meant we camped out in her bathroom and painted each other’s toenails.

Now, she gets Botox. She also dyes her hair, and she keeps it short and chic. Girls’ day these days means an all-day adventure to a high-end spa in Denver—yes, that’s what counts as an adventure in my life back home—and I think the last time she wore jeans was probably fifteen years ago. “Mom. Can you please be nice to Theo?”

“I’m being perfectly nice.”

“You’re making faces at him.”

“We ran into Owen. He said you’ve been very friendly with Emma’s brother.”

“He’s a nice man.”

“I know, sweetie, but he has blinders on when it comes to his nephew.”

“Theo is a nice man, Mom.”

Her lips purse again. “What’s this frown for? Emma’s getting married. And we’re in Hawaii, and dinner smells fantastic. There’s an early morning dolphin cruise. We should go Sunday morning before you have to fly back home.”

“Mrs. Kingston! You made it.” Emma dashes across the lanai to hug my mom, then waves at my father, who’s standing with Chandler’s father close to the short walk to the beach.

“Oh, Emma, sweetie, you look beautiful. I can’t believe your day is finally tomorrow.”

Emma’s beam is only half-strength. “Me too. It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

“Good things are worth waiting for. Where’s your groom? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Still cleaning up after golf. He’ll be here soon. Can I borrow Laney for a minute?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Kingston. Oh! Chandler’s mom is over at the bar. Have you said hi to her yet? I know she’d love to see you.”

My mom heads to the bar.

Emma grabs my elbow in a death grip and hauls me back in the direction I’m usually hauling Theo.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

“You looked like you were about to bite your mother’s head off.”

“Em, I—”

She squeals and throws her arms around me. “I knew it! I knew you’d like Theo if you gave him half a chance. What do you need me to do to help handle your parents?”

I gape at her.

Like, I am a fish.

I am completely a fish.

“Laney. You’ve spent the past year saying you want to have fun. I know no one who’s more fun than Theo. And this wasn’t a setup. I really did need someone to keep him separated from Chandler. But you like him. And he’s had a crush on you forever. And this is the best thing ever.”

“But—but—but you didn’t want Claire to babysit him because you were afraid he’d—he’d—”

I cannot say the words seduce her to my best friend when we’re talking about her brother.

And the fact that I’m having sex with him.

And wanting to see him and date him when I get home too.

She shrugs. “You’re a year off your last break-up instead of a week. This is different.”

I do a fish imitation for a little bit longer.

“I know, I know,” she says. “This might be just a little fling. But you’re having fun. I can see it all over you. Even if it doesn’t last, it won’t be any worse than it’s been with having you two avoid each other for the past ten years. And if it does last…then I get my two favorite people together all the time. This is the best wedding gift. Seriously.”

“Even better than the hamster balls?” I blurt.

Her eyes bulge a little, and then she giggles.

“Chandler was so pissed,” she whispers.

“But it was funny,” I whisper back.

“I think it was just timing. You know he would’ve laughed his ass off if he wasn’t so stressed.”

I do. “I’m so glad I didn’t marry Christopher.”

The words leave my mouth, and I realize too late how that sounds. Christopher would’ve been an uptight ass during our wedding too.

Emma winces.

“I didn’t mean—” I start, but she squeezes me in a hug before I can finish.

“I know he’s difficult sometimes,” she whispers, “but I love him. I do. And I know we’ll be happy once we get through this.”

Oh, god.

That’s what I told myself every single bad date with Christopher.

Every. Single. One.

We’ll be happy once we get used to each other’s quirks. We’ll be happy once he gets a promotion. We’ll be happy once we’re living in the same town. We’ll be happy once we get through this.

Have I not been paying attention? Is this what Em’s been saying about Chandler for years and I didn’t notice? Or is this really just a hard time for them?

“Em—”

“Oh, did you hear that? I think Chandler’s back. He’s bringing an old friend from college. One I’ve never met, if you can believe it. Have to dash. Bride duties and all that.” She squeezes me harder. “Be happy, Laney. Just be happy, okay? And all the other stuff—it’ll work out. Theo’s complicated sometimes, but he has the biggest heart. Love you. And thank you. You will never know just how much I appreciate everything you’ve done this week.”

I try to say something else, but she’s gone.

I clench my eyes shut and take a deep breath.

Everything feels wrong.

Everything.

Two arms loop around my stomach.

I don’t jump. I’m not startled.

I know who it is.

I can smell him. Sense him.

And it’s so easy to lean back into his arms while he presses a kiss to my shoulder in this quiet little alcove tucked away from everyone else.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a clusterfuck,” he says softly.

I doubt he’s wrong. I blink my eyes open and study the flowers, the trees, the bushes, the bright green grass all around us as I tilt my head to his. “How do you tell someone you love that you’re afraid they’re making a huge mistake when it’s all they’ve wanted for years?”

“Can’t stop people from making mistakes.”

“But I want to.”

“You sure it’s a mistake?”

“No,” I whisper. “Not when it’s what she says she wants. When she says it’s all she’s ever wanted. But all day, I keep wondering if there are supposed to be so many disasters. If this was my wedding, I’d say it was a sign. But it’s Emma, and she’d say—”

“Anything worth having is worth working for,” he finishes for me.

I sigh. “What do you think?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If it was your wedding, would you listen to the signs, or would you say it’s worth working for?”

He kisses my neck. “I don’t care about weddings. I care about people.”

So simple.

So Theo.

I close my eyes again and hold his arms while he holds me.

How can this feel so right here, but so complicated just a few feet away?

“I told my mom to be nice to you,” I whisper.

“I can deal with people not liking me.”

“But she’s not giving you a chance. And that’s wrong.”

“One thing at a time. I went back to where we had breakfast. To find a chef for dinner. That’s all.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. I can’t wait to see what they do with dinner.”

“You’re sitting with the bridesmaids.”

“Only physically.”

I feel his lips smile against my neck. “I wanted you to know. So you don’t think I was flirting with anyone else.”

“It’s okay. I know you have resting flirt face.”

It’s not my imagination when his entire body relaxes behind mine. Especially when it’s accompanied by that chuckle. “Can’t help being born this fabulous.”

He’s so easy to smile at, which is one more unexpected gift of this week. “If I rub you a little more, think it’ll come off on me?”

“We should try it and see.”

I laugh. “I know you didn’t just say I could be more fabulous.”

“Sorry. Thought about you rubbing me, and my brain broke.”

The voices on the lanai get louder, and because I’m boring at every given opportunity, no matter how much I try to fight it, I pull out my phone and check the time.

Nearly there.

“Still staying with me tonight?” The husky hope in his voice doesn’t just make my clit tingle.

It also makes my heart tighten. “Yes.”

“Even if your parents see?”

I shiver. That won’t go over well and I know it. But I can’t live for them.

And I’m frankly horrified that I ever treated Theo the same way my mom still does. “Even if my parents see.”

He presses another kiss to my neck, and this one comes with a gentle suckle that turns my nipples inside out and makes me want to skip dinner entirely.

“Promise me you’ll eat,” I order.

“I’ll eat you.”

“Dinner, Theo.”

“I’ll eat you for dinner.”

I sigh.

He gives me one last squeeze. “Thank you for worrying about me, Laney.”

And then he’s gone, heading back to the kitchen where he’ll get zero credit for saving the night.

No, that’s not true.

I’ll give him credit.

I’ll give him all the credit in the world.

And I’ll be counting the minutes until I can do it in private.