She nods mournfully. “We were supposed to get married quietly. We'd planned to go to Tampa, hang out in the city for few days and do the ceremony at the courthouse, alone. Quietly. We figured I could get added to his insurance within a week, he'd be gone out west for a year, and it would give me time to get my life together. But my mom found the marriage license certificate, and she showed his mom. Things went sideways. Fast.” She covers her face with her hands.
“And so we're here at a rehearsal dinner, with everyone in town, a pig roast, and forty-eight hours before you officially become Mrs. Damien Hastings.”
She glances up. A river of tears slides down her cheek as she nods once. “It all spiraled out of control. But here's the thing. We get along so well. We've actually been spending time together. We like each other. We have a connection.”
I smirk. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“No. Not only that. We've been kayaking and paddleboarding on the springs, and we jog together. We hang out and watch movies. We're like a real couple. I like him, Lauren. A lot. More than like.”
My spine straightens. “You jog?”
She shrugs. “Since I wasn't able to afford medication for a while, I thought exercise might help my cholesterol levels. We also walk Steve together at night.”
This is way more complicated than I imagined.
By the time we finish our second glass of champagne, the sun has almost set. I'm getting used to the idea Kate's marrying out of necessity. It’s not a bad plan, now that I think about it. Also, any skepticism about Damien that I had is mostly gone.
“I actually think it's chivalrous he offered to marry you for health insurance,” I say in a hoarse whisper. “That's kind of wonderful. And he didn't back out when the moms got involved.”
“Don't say anything to anyone this weekend, please? As far as everyone here's concerned, Damien and I are madly in love.”
“Considering you said he sends you flowers at the bar, and how you’ve been gushing about how much you make him laugh, and talking about how you continued watching a movie and making out after that dog farted on you, I’d say youaremadly in love, lady.” I raise an eyebrow.
Kate shoots me a stern look. “Let's get back to the party, okay?”
We shuffle out of the bar. I haven’t again brought up how we’d planned to travel together, and I'm not sure if I should. Kate's got so much on her mind right now, between her health and the wedding.
I can't burden her with my selfish needs right now. Since Damien's heading out west for his fire job not long after the wedding, I'll stay an extra week or two, and that’s when I’ll talkKate into coming with me to Costa Rica. Damien wouldn't stop her, would he? Could he? Of course he wouldn't.
He's not even her real husband.
When we reach the pool area, Kate slips off her flip-flops. I do the same with my sandals and notice a fierce volleyball game has started up on the lawn.
“Is this where the wedding's going to be, here by the pool?” I gesture in the air. “You should probably fill me in on all the details since I’m the maid of honor.”
“No, we're doing it on a platform in the garden. You can see the Starlight River from there. It's super pretty. I'll show you tomorrow. Oh. Hey, what were you trying to say when you texted me earlier, by the way? Some guy was naked? I didn't understand your text. Sorry I didn't respond; I was a little busy.”
Almost as if by serendipity, my eye goes to a shirtless, golden-haired man playing volleyball on the lawn.
Max.
“Yeah. Apparently it was Damien's brother. I accidentally walked into his room while he was taking off his clothes. It was kinda funny.”
Kate grabs my arm. “Which brother?”
I continue staring at Max. He's moving with the grace of a gazelle, hitting the ball and thwacking it at the perfect time. All while grinning adorably and cheering his side on.
“The shirtless one over there.”
She squints at the game, and her line of sight immediately goes to Damien, because he's the biggest. He's also shirtless, and while he's handsome, he doesn't do it for me like Max does.
“Which brother? There's four of them, and they're all currently shirtless and playing volleyball. Sometimes I wonder if any of the Hastings men even own shirts.”
“The one I saw earlier didn't seem to own pants, either.” I crack up. Indeed, there are four men sans shirts on one side ofthe net. All have rippling torso muscles. The family is obviously genetically blessed.
“The guy who looks almost exactly like Damien is Remy. See?” She points. “He's a little shorter than Damien and doesn’t have a beard.”
“Nope. Wasn't him. Is Remy Damien's twin?”
