The Wedding Date Disaster (Harbor City 4)

“Fine.” Knox shrugged. “It’s not like we’re telling about the time you ate raw pie dough because you couldn’t admit you’d made a mistake.”

She closed her eyes and groaned. “You just did.”

“Oops.” Knox, a huge grin on his face, turned to Will. “So she insisted she didn’t need any help making pie from scratch, but she forgot to prebake the crust—”

“That was not on the recipe card,” Hadley interrupted.

“So when it came out of the oven and we all took a bite, the crust wasn’t completely raw but it wasn’t done, either. The rest of us took a polite bite, then said we were full. Meanwhile, Miss Always Right over there ate her entire piece, the whole time insisting the crust was supposed to be like that.”

Okay, that Will could imagine without even trying. In the year he’d known her, he’d never seen her allude to things not being completely perfect or that she was ever wrong. He pivoted toward her, a comment about just that on his lips, when the look on her face stopped him. Her chin was tilted just a little too high, her smile a little too tight, and her posture a little too rigid. Knox may not have meant anything by his teasing, but it was clear as the blue sky above them that it had struck a nerve.

This is where you slide that knife home.

But he didn’t. Instead, for reasons he didn’t understand beyond the twist in his gut, he held up his sticks. “I’m not getting any traction here with the snipe. Can you show me how it’s done?”

She shook her head. “No way.”

“Come on,” he cajoled, holding out the sticks to her. “I’m obviously fucking this up. Usually, you love to tell me all about how I should be doing things, so give me a lesson.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she took his sticks and started banging them together and whistling. He should have been taking that opportunity to gain more intel from her brother to figure out what vulnerabilities he could exploit to get her to back off Web—did he need to cut a check, offer her a job, buy her a condo in Boca?—but he got distracted by her ass again. He couldn’t help it.

She’d ass-notized him.

…

Hadley was not laughing on the bumpy ride from the cow pasture a half hour after her brother had ratted her out for making the world’s worst pie. She was not enjoying the fact that all the jostling meant she was sitting thigh to thigh with Will to maintain her balance. Also, she was not in the least bit bummed out about regaining her own personal bubble when Knox pulled the truck to a stop in front of the old barn where Adalyn’s reception was going to be.

Peeling paint and all, the barn looked gorgeous set against the pasture behind it and the big blue sky above. Off to the west were a few out-of-commission work buildings and a small cabin like the one she was staying in with Will.

“The four-wheeler is around back,” Knox said as she and Will climbed down from the truck’s cab. “You can ride that back to the house.”

Wait. What? Her pulse jacked up and she spun around. “You’re not decorating?”

Knox shook his head. “I have other obligations, but I’ll see you back at the house tonight for part two of game night. We have you guys in Pictionary.”

Oh God. When that wasn’t the worst bit of news she’d gotten in the past sixty seconds, that was saying something, because her artistic skill was so bad that stick figures were a reach. Since it wasn’t an option to hold on to the open truck door and beg Knox not to leave her alone with Will because she didn’t trust herself, she shut the passenger door and Knox drove off.

You can do this, Hads. You can ignore the way he looks in those jeans and the way his T-shirt fits with just the right amount of tightness across his shoulders. You will not fall for the packaging. Oh God. Package.

Her gaze dipped down to his jeans’ zipper before she could stop herself.

Dammit, Hads. This is not part of the plan.

What was the plan? Hell if she could remember.

“Are you two coming in?” Adalyn called from the open barn door.

Shoulders lifting, Hadley let out a relieved sigh that evened out her janky blood pressure.

Thank you, baby

Jesus.

Hadley was always thrilled to see her little sister, but seeing her now was like finding the oasis in the desert—a chance at survival. She rushed over and gave her sister a bear hug.

“You just saw me last night,” her sister said, her voice muffled, since her face was squashed against Hadley’s shoulder.

Taking a step back, because suffocating her sister was not on her to-do list, Hadley said, “I know, but you’re gorgeous, your wedding is in a few days, and I’m so excited to help.”