“There’s also super rats,” I add.
“Super rats.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t even want to ask.”
“Probably for the best.”
He exhales. “Who’s in charge here?”
I shake my head miserably. “The guy said there’s no chance of fixing it. You’re wasting your time. You can huff and puff all you want, but it’s hopeless.”
“I don’t huff and puff. I’m not a wolf. Now, where is he?”
I flick a tired hand toward a tent in the distance. “Over there somewhere.”
Without another word, he strides off into the darkness, his broad shoulders taut with exasperation.
I watch him disappear, then sink onto the grass, spent.
Sophia’s going to be crushed. She won’t say anything, of course—she’s too well-mannered for that—but I know this will ruin everything. We’ll end up in some overpriced, soulless hotel, and this whole trip will go down in history as another Oopsie Daisy Disaster™.
The thought makes me snort. Swiping at my damp face, I try to pull myself together when a shadow falls over me.
I glance up.
Edward stands there, silhouetted against the soft glow of the string lights. He extends a hand. For a second, I genuinely can’t tell if he’s offering to help me up or contemplating how best to put me out of my misery.
“It’s resolved.”
I blink up at him. “What?”
“Are you going to get up?” His wide-legged stance makes it very clear hedoes nothave the patience for my dramatics.
I stare dumbly at his outstretched hand before finally taking it—definitelynot noticing how warm and strong it feels because that would be inappropriate in this moment of crisis.
He hauls me to my feet like I weigh nothing.
“We’re in the tents at the front. Everyone gets their own.”
My jaw drops. “How? Edward, did you—did you bribe him? Free surgeries for life or something?”
“It’s handled,” he mutters, looking away as his jaw ticks. “Don’t worry about it.”
Oh my god. He totally did. He marched over there, all commanding and intense, probably flashed some inch-thick credit card, and growledfix ituntil the guy caved.
“No need to tell the others,” he adds.
I slap my hands over my mouth, stifling a gasp. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Now let’s get to these damn tents. I’ve had a long day. A bridal party is thelastthing I need, even if it is for my sister.”
Something in me shifts, a messy knot of feelings swelling up too fast to untangle. Before I can think—before reason or dignity can stop me—I do the most spectacularly stupid thing I’ve ever done.
I fling myself at him.
Full koala mode—arms around his neck, legs hooking his waist like I’ve lost all grip on sanity. Which, yeah, I probably have.
He catches me, his reflexes snapping into place, hands automatically clamping around my thighs.
His entire body goes rigid. Every muscle locked.
