But her mouth hooks into a wide grin as she turns to Michael. “You won’tbelievewhat Harri did on the plane,” she says, barely able to contain herself.
Oh God. It was one thing to tell Geoff and Cat, but what will Michael think of me?
Sweat springs to my brow and I raise a hand to my burning cheek. Michael gazes at me, his face a combination of amusement and curiosity. I’m just contemplating fleeing the room when there’s a knock at the door and it creaks open.
“Hello?”
“In here,” Michael calls. He turns back to me and Alex, waiting to hear the rest of the story. But I’m focused on the table again, straightening the knives and forks and avoiding his gaze, praying Alex doesn’t say any more.
I hear someone else enter the room and Michael speaks again. “Harriet, this is my brother.”
I glance up to see a tall, dark-haired man in the kitchen. His jaw is lined with dark stubble, his eyes are a deep brown, and I get a whiff of spicy, woody cologne. His gaze hitches on mine and it takes my brain a second to process who’s standing in front of me.
My heart stops.
I watch as his face contorts in confusion, then realization, then dismay. “Luke Hawkins,” he says awkwardly, extending his hand.
I blink, frozen to the spot, trying to piece everything together.
Why is he here? He can’t be…
“Luke is also Michael’s best man,” Alex adds.
No. Please, no.
I extend a limp hand and he shakes it while I stand there, mute with shock. His eyes are carefully trained on me and, straight away, I can tell the way he wants me to play this.
I swallow hard, making my face as expressionless as possible. “Hello, I’m Harriet. It’s so very nice to meet you.” My tone is overly-formal and I cringe.
This is… I can’t. This is too much.
“Will you please excuse me?” I say stiffly, trying to ignore the way my stomach has plummeted off a cliff. “I just need to go to the bathroom.” I turn and dash up the hall, locking the bathroom door behind me with trembling hands.
What the fuck is happening right now?
Perching on the edge of the bathtub, I force myself to slow my breath, but my heart continues to rattle against my ribcage, my thoughts in free fall.
How is this even possible? How did I not realize…
I shake my head. This cannot be happening. I’m having some kind of jet-lag-induced hallucination, surely.
I spring to my feet, a ball of anxious energy, unable to sit still. Wringing my hands, I make myself take another deep breath.
I have to calm down.
But I can’t.
Because I just realized I had sex with my sister’s fiance’s brother.
The best man.
Holy fuck, this is bad.
And—God, I’m ashamed to admit this—but that isn’t even what’s striking me as the worst thing about this situation. What’s really bothering me right now, if I’m being honest, is that he didn’t seem pleased to see me.
I shake my head again, unable to even believe myself.
Who cares about that?!
