Parker was clearly uncomfortable with the congratulations and good wishes from all the people gathered here—and it was little wonder, as I was pretty sure Lauren hadn’t stuck to the agreed number of guests. There looked to be seats for about a thousand people around the tables. Lucky for me, she didn’t have access to my contacts or everyone I’d ever met would probably be here today, including the obstetrician who delivered me. Things only got worse when Lauren guided us to our seats for dinner. Neither Parker nor I had taken much interest in the seating plan. We certainly hadn’t expected to be seated on our own, just the two of us, elevated to the rest of our guests at one end of the marquee.
“Is she serious?” Parker hissed from beside me as Lauren beckoned us up the three steps to our table.
“Isn’t it pretty?” Lauren said. “Very common in America to do a sweetheart table and with Tristan’s parents divorced, I thought it would be more comfortable than having the usual top table.”
“Please shoot me,” Parker muttered under her breath. “This isn’t a wedding,” she continued, loud enough so Lauren could hear. “We didn’t need a top table.”
There was no point complaining. We were here and we had to make the best of it.
“Lovely idea, Lauren,” I said, trying to hide the fact that Parker was freaking out beside me.
“Is it usual for these tables to be on a stage?” Parker asked.
Lauren’s smile blazed. “That was my idea. Thought you could see everyone much better from here. And everyone can get another look at the happy couple.”
I squeezed Parker’s hand before releasing it and holding out her chair. “Wife-to-be?”
Lauren took a couple of paces back, like she was enjoying a painting in a gallery, almost jumped for joy, and then left us to it.
“Can you believe this?” Parker asked. “It’s like we’re an exhibit at a museum. You’re going to have to stop me from killing her. Like, that’s your job today. Once I get my hands on the knife, we’re going to cut the cake with, I will have very little self-control. If you don’t want to be married to someone doing life for murder, you’ll have to hold me back.”
I chuckled, glancing out and down to our guests that filled the marquee. “It’s just a couple of hours. No one’s getting murdered. If I have to hold you down and feed you chocolate-covered raisins to prevent a bloodbath, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. Your first duty as my fiancé—make sure I don’t kill anyone.”
“I had hoped taking your virginity would be my first assignment, but needs must.”
Parker laughed and warmth filled my ribcage at the sound of her laugh. “I hate to break it to you, but that ship has sailed.”
“Shame.”
The servers presented the first course. It occurred to me I had no idea what we were eating.
I glanced over at Parker.
“Don’t ask me,” she said, reading my mind. “I left it to Lauren.”
“I think it’s duck,” I said.
Parker started to laugh. “Never in the world have two people been less interested in their engagement party.”
“People say it’s stressful planning a wedding,” I replied. “I have no idea what they’re talking about.”
To anyone looking at us, we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Lucky for me, I genuinely liked my fiancée. At least I wasn’t faking that bit.
The meal was delicious and the sounds of chatter and laughter filled the tent. Even Parker seemed to relax. I managed to make her laugh at least three more times before we’d finished.
“I actually think just the two of us on this table was a great idea,” Parker admitted. “At least we haven’t had to keep up any kind of pretense between ourselves. It’s been a welcome break.”
“Every cloud has a silver lining.”
“The cake, my lovely couple. The cake. Everyone,” Lauren bellowed, “gather round. We’re going to cut the cake.”
Parker groaned beside me. “I spoke too soon.”
“Come on,” I said, standing and taking her by the hand. “The sooner the bit where you get your hands on a sharp knife, the better.”
Parker laughed and it lit up her entire face. I couldn’t help but smile. “Is it me or is it weird to have a cake cutting at an engagement party?”
“Just go with it,” I said through my grin. “No one else seems to think it’s weird.”
We stood by the two-tiered cake as people started to congregate around us.
“Thank God they’ve all agreed to a small wedding,” Parker said. “Can you imagine if this was a three-day thing? My mother would have people releasing doves and the Pope sending a message of congratulations.”
“Are you Catholic?”
“No. But that wouldn’t stop my mother when she sets her mind to something.”
“I’m more concerned about Lauren. We’re going to need to keep an eye on her. I know everyone agreed on a twenty-five maximum for the wedding, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the guest list suddenly ballooned.”