Page 46 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

I chuckled. “In a surprising twist of events, it’s probably not the only hops the train has to offer. I’m willing to bet you’ll find a few more groups intent on making the trip into a party if you just look.”

“Have you done that?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened with delight. “Ryan Thayer, who knew you were such a rebel?”

I laughed. After cracking open my own can, I took a sip of my beer and very quickly proceeded to learn that Maggie was a complete lightweight—and a chatterbox the second any alcohol hit her bloodstream. I hadn’t even finished my sandwich yet when her eyes started sparkling and her words started tumbling out faster.

She couldn’t have had more than half her beer, but to anyone who hadn’t physically seen it happen, it would’ve seemed like she’d had half a six-pack. “This is the best trip I’ve ever been on. Seriously. It’s amazing. The food could be better, I think, but your sandwich actually looks pretty fresh.”

“I hate to say it, but I told you so.” I grinned and leaned back in my chair, amused by her ramblings right now. It almost felt like she was finally relaxing, and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing. “Their sandwiches are popular, so they never have time to just sit and get old. Also, you’ve only been on the train for a few hours. The novelty is going to wear off soon and you’ll realize you’ve been on much better trips.”

She shook her head hard from one side to the other. “There’s no way. What more do you want in a trip? We’ve got space to move, we can walk, we made friends, and we’ve got beer.”

“All of which you’ve also got on your father’s jet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Except for the making friends part.”

“Fair enough.”

She fell silent for two seconds, staring out the window before bringing those hazel eyes back to mine. “Do you know what my dream wedding is?”

I nearly choked on my beer. “No.”

“It’s insane, a feral, girlhood dream, but if I got to choose, it would be outside. In the woods, with a haunted church kind of vibe.” She took another sip. “It would have these huge trees around it. Moss. Ivy. Maybe some broken stained-glass windows.”

“So your dream is to get tetanus?”

She smirked. “My dream is to have a carnival instead of a reception.”

“A carnival?” I stared at her, then started laughing. “You cannot be serious. Why on God’s green earth would you want a carnival?”

“Weddings are always so boring. No matter where they are, they always follow the same sort of patterns, right? There’s speeches, some dancing, a few people drinking too much, cake, and then it’s over.”

“Well, I suppose a ceremony in a haunted forest followed by a carnival would be something different,” I conceded. “I can’t picture it, if I’m being honest, but it sounds fun.”

“Exactly.” She flashed me a wide smile. “My dress would be different too. I’d like it to be butter yellow. Something vintage with plenty of movement and my shoes would be sneakers. Comfortable ones, but I’m willing to bedazzle them to appease my mother.”

“That’s very generous.” I chuckled. “Let me guess, you don’t want a buffet or a stuffy sit-down meal either.”

“Never.” She looked at me like she was horrified at the mere suggestion. “We would eat carnival food.”

“So corn dogs, cotton candy, and funnel cake?”

“Now you’re understanding the vision.” She let out a contented sigh and glanced at the window again. “It would be perfect. People would talk about it for years because it would actually have been fun. An event really worth remembering and talking about for reasons other than judging the centerpieces and the guest list in retrospect.”

“It would definitely be something, alright.” I wasn’t sure people wouldn’t judge everything in retrospect, but she looked so happy that I let it slide. “Where would you have this haunted carnival, also known as some people nightmares? The Hamptons?”

She snorted. “No. I hate the Hamptons.”

I laughed. “You hate the Hamptons? Why?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but the people ruin it.”

“Isn’t that true about most places?”

“Absolutely, but it’s worse there.”