Lovewrecked

I can’t help laugh. “That’s a rather fitting analogy. But seriously, I’m so grateful he was able to give me the ride. I’ve been having a bit of bad luck lately, so it helped.”

I don’t mention that the ride itself felt like a continuation of that bad luck, at least it did at the time.

The funny thing is, even though that drive was hell of sorts, I felt way more comfortable with Tai in that truck than I do talking to most of the people here, and that includes my own sister. Tai’s a grump but there’s at least something real about him. He judges me, but he at least tells me he’s judging me.

Don’t get carried away now, I remind myself. He’s a dick and he’ll make this trip miserable if you let him.

Lord knows why there’s a part of me that wants to let him.

Five

Daisy

As far as weddings go, I have to say my sister’s was pretty much perfect.

Granted, we’ve only just made it through the ceremony, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. Weddings are always slightly chaotic, a drunken mix of bad blood and buried feelings, different friends and families mixing together, creating this soup of heightened emotions.

I thought my own emotions were going to run away on me, especially when my father walked Lacey down the sandy aisle, the music swelling to a crescendo.

She looked gorgeous, in a simple white strapless gown, no frills or gimmicks, but her glasses were off and her hair was pulled back into a chignon. She was smiling so broadly at Richard that I really felt the love between them. Obviously they do love each other, but they’re such odd personalities, and Lacey is so rarely affectionate, that seeing them practically gush at each other was affirming.

And then of course there was my father, who looked so proud that my own heart sank a little. As completely and utterly selfish as it sounds, I wanted to be the one that made him look so happy. That look of pride doesn’t come easily from him.

It’s not like I never thought about getting married. As I said, with Chris it did cross my mind a few times. I wasn’t exactly excited about the idea, but I figured if I had to settle down, then I guess it was best I do it with him.

But that’s all over now, so there’s no use entertaining it.

The last few days leading up to the wedding have actually been pretty good, as if making up for the rough start. I spent most of my time on the beach, sipping wine and slathering on SPF 50. Sometimes Lacey would ask me for some wedding advice, usually with regards to aesthetics, which I appreciated, other times I would be just hanging out with my parents and the Wakefields, which was time well spent.

I also met some of Tai’s friends, who were a hell of a lot more down to earth than Lacey and Richard’s friends. Tai has been behaving, too. Maybe a little too well.

In fact, I don’t think I even saw him up close until it was time for us to walk down the aisle together as best man and maid-of-honor. His gaze rested on my breasts for just a moment (it’s a low-cut halter, Lacey said I could choose whatever dress I wanted so as long as it was lilac, and I chose the one that played up my assets), then gave me the kind of smirk I wanted to wipe off his face. I hate guys that smirk. I hate the word smirk.

“Trying to steal the attention from your sister?” he had asked glibly as he took my arm, and before I had a chance to even reply to that, we were going down the aisle.

“Not my fault I like to look my best,” I told him out of the side of my mouth, smiling broadly for all the guests who were craning their necks in their seats, impatiently waiting for the bride. The wedding was set-up on the beach with seashells and vases of ferns lining the aisle, white chairs sinking into the sand.

“I’m not complaining,” he said. “If you’re always the bridesmaid and never the bride, you might as well live that up.”

It took everything in me not to jab him with my pointy gel nails. It would have been worth losing one of them. I don’t care that he was kind of right.

Anyway, once we were up at the altar, everything went smoothly. The vows, as dorky as they were, were touching, and everyone hollered and cheered when Richard went to kiss the bride.

I might have even shed a tear.

“Daisy,” the wedding photographer, Mara, says to me. “We need you.”

I’m currently sitting on a piece of driftwood on the beach, drinking a glass of rose champagne, feeling a buzz and gathering my thoughts. Down by the water, Mara was shooting endless pictures of Richard and Lacey, though I knew I’d be called in for some shots soon, so I didn’t stray too far.