The longer I stood there, the officiant extolling the values of love and marriage, the more I realized something. I was grateful for the sign, but I hadn’t needed it. Because my heart, mind, and body had already pointed me in the right direction—to Frasier.
Before I knew it, Allie and Kit had been pronounced husband and wife. The bridesmaid to my right nudged me, and I realized that the ceremony was over. Kit and Allie, the maid of honor and best man, had already proceeded down the aisle, and now all eyes were on me. I cringed, smiling awkwardly as I headed for the groomsman who would walk me out.
I leaned in, whispering, “Sorry,” to Hayden.
He chuckled. “No worries. I find it difficult to stop looking at him too.”
I laughed, giving Hayden’s bicep a squeeze.
We joined the others farther down the beach, waiting for Allie and Kit and the rest of my immediate family. On the plus side, there were custom cocktails for the wedding party. But while the rest of the guests enjoyed a separate cocktail hour, we took photo after photo after photo.
I needed to be alone with Frasier, talk to him. And I wasn’t the only one impatient to move on. Brooke—like all of us—was getting antsy.
“Are we done yet?” She pouted. “I want cake.”
Poor Brooke. There wouldn’t be cake for a while yet. But I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that. Her dad handed her a piece of candy, coaxing her to smile.
My parents were released to join the party, along with some of the other family members. Then the groomsmen. Then,finally,the bridesmaids.
I made my way over to our assigned table at the reception. Frasier was sipping a rum concoction and talking with Kit’s friend Hayden. Frasier stood as I approached, smiling, but something seemed off. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he didn’t seem as relaxed as he had when I’d left the bungalow this morning.
My gaze darted between Frasier and Hayden, trying to determine whether there was some animosity between them. But Hayden seemed mellow enough, so I didn’t think that was it. I wondered if some of the other guests had harassed Frasier for autographs or photos. Or maybe it was something else entirely. It probably wasn’t obvious to anyone else, but I knew him well enough that I could tell something was bothering him.
“You are stunning,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Thank you.” I held Frasier for an extra beat, pressing up on my toes to kiss his cheek before whispering, “You okay?”
Instead of answering, he stepped back, reaching into his pocket to remove his phone. “Sorry. I have to take this.” He dropped a quick peck on my cheek. “I’ll be back.”
That was…odd. And now I was really worried.
A few of my cousins came over to say hello, but I excused myself, heading in the direction in which Frasier had disappeared. He was farther down the beach, and I couldn’t hear the words he said over the roar of the ocean waves. But I could tell from his posture that he was upset.
What on earth is going on?
I debated whether to stay. Ultimately, I remained there, ensuring no one else came by, while trying to give Frasier privacy.
When he ended the call, he stared out at the ocean. He linked his hands, placing them behind his neck before looking up to the sky. I studied him, my worry increasing the longer he remained. I’d inched closer, trying to give him space but wanting to be there for him. Finally, when I couldn’t take it any longer, I closed the remaining distance between us.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Frasier?”
He straightened as if donning his armor. I’d never known him to act like that—at least, not with me anyway. On the ice, sure. In public, absolutely. But here with me? Alone on the beach in the middle of paradise?
He turned to face me, adopting a relaxed expression. But it didn’t fool me. “Sorry about that.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. He opened his mouth, and I added, “And don’t even try telling me nothing’s wrong.”
His jaw was set in a hard line. “We should be enjoying your sister’s wedding. We can talk about it later.”
“I’m worried about you.” I softened my tone. “Talk to me, Bear. What’s bothering you?”
When he still didn’t answer, I said, “Come on.” I tugged on his hand and led him over to a low stone wall overlooking the water. He placed his jacket on the wall before waiting for me to sit.
“Thank you.”
He paced back and forth then stopped, and my blood pressure skyrocketed. Whatever was going on was…not good. I tried not to panic, but Frasier was usually so calm, even on the ice. Even when he had every right to lose his cool.
He took a seat next to me, lacing his fingers with mine. “Jules is in trouble.”
