Unfortunately, I didn't wait to happen.
The wedding hasn't even started yet, and I'm already happening.
"No," I whisper, staring in horror at the water spraying from the fountain like a geyser. It splashes the white wall and spraysthe brown carpet at my feet. Jesus is probably not a happy camper right now. I'm pretty sure this church is new. And I'm single-handedly destroying it.
"No, no, no." I reach out, trying frantically to make the water stop. All I manage to do is send a stream of it right into my face.
Goodbye, $400 hair and makeup.
RIP, fancy bridesmaid's dress.
"Please, stop!" I beg the fountain, holding one hand up in front of my face while feeling around for an emergency shutoff—or any shutoff, really—with the other. There may be one. I have no idea. It's not like water fountain maintenance is my forte.
Getting kids into college? That I can do. Dealing with this disaster? Absolutely not. Why does a new church need a water fountain designed in the 1970s anyway?
"Stop!" I cry.
"I don't think shouting at it is going to help," a familiar deep voice chuckles from behind me half a second before a pair of hands settle around my waist, tugging me out of the way.
The frisson of heat surging through me tells me exactly who just saved me before I even look, but I look anyway, hoping I'm wrong.
Nope.
Briggs Ward, brother of the groom and the man supposed to walk me down the aisle, is right there, his hands still around my waist.
Of course the hottest fucking man at this wedding would find me right now.Of coursehe would.
If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.
I glance up, meeting his denim eyes. That frisson dies a quick death when I see the amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.
He's as infuriating as he is beautiful, and believe me, the man is stunning. Those gorgeous eyes are just the tip of the icebergwith him. There's also the thick dark hair, the full, kissable lips always tipped up in this smile that says he knows something I don't, and more muscles than my brain can even process. He's effortlessly sexy and annoyingly charming.
He also has this way of focusing on me that's had me in a constant state of fight, flight, or fuck since we met last night. It's like I don't know whether I want to climb him, flee from him, or karate chop him in the throat. This is a problem for a few reasons. One, I just met him yesterday. Two, he's my brother's friend. And three, like my brother, he plays hockey.
The red flags don't come in a brighter shade. If there's anything I've learned in my twenty-four years on this planet, it's to stay away from attractive men,especiallyif they're friends with my brother or play hockey.
Don't get me wrong, my brother is great. But he's the exception to the rule. In my experience, most hockey players are cocky, self-serving assholes. Like Daniel Jordan, the jerk I dated during my freshman year of college. He had me convinced he was a good guy…right up until I found out precisely how wrong I was.
He was never the guy he pretended to be. He just wanted to win a bet and bragging rights with some of his stupid teammates. And I was the bet.
The whole, ugly truth came out in front of his entire team and three dozen witnesses the morning after I gave him my virginity.
My freshman year was hell because of him and his teammates. And I haven't dated since. I willneverbe a stupid bet, game, or bragging rights for some brainless athlete ever again.
"You know you're supposed to drink the water, not flood the church, right?" Briggs asks me, chuckling again.
"This isn't funny!" I whisper-hiss in response. Except…it kind of is. The water fountain in the church has gone demonic, I looklike a drowned rat, and I'm being rescued by the man I dreamed about last night.
If you don't laugh at your misery…well, then you're just miserable. Might as well get a laugh or two out of it, right?
"What happened?" he asks, his gaze raking down my body. To his credit, his eyes don't linger very long on my boobs, which I'm sure he can probably see through my dress right now.
"I wanted water. The fountain said no," I grumble, trying to wring out my hair. "I think the church needs an exorcism."
"Wrong denomination, babe," Briggs chuckles before kneeling at my feet.
My mind immediately goes to places it shouldn't be in a place of worship.
