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Ryder gets off the bed. He pushes a hand through his hair and stalks to the door.

I sit up and fix my dress.

He opens it.

Lila’s eyes travel over him.

Shirtless.

Barefoot.

Furious.

“Oh.”

Ryder grips the door. “Choose your next words very fucking carefully.”

Her gaze darts past him to me. “Were you two finally going to…”

“Lila.”

“Right. Emergency.”

That gets me off the bed. “What happened?”

“Uncle Hank is missing.”

Ryder’s expression changes immediately. “Missing how?”

“He stole a golf cart.”

I blink. “What?”

“Borrowed. Stole. The distinction isn’t important. He’s drunk, nobody can find him, and somebody saw him heading toward the lake.”

Ryder grabs his boots. “Where’s Dane?”

“Checking the trails. Security has the parking lots. Hank actually listens to Clara, so I came here.”

Ryder looks at me.

I sigh.

“Let’s go find Hank.”

Forty-five minutes later, we find him beside the lake.

The golf cart is parked crooked near a tree.

Hank is asleep in the passenger seat.

A decorative white swan from the wedding is tucked under one arm.

Ryder stares at him. “I’m going to leave him here.”

“You are not,” I say.

Hank opens one eye. “Clara?”