Without a Hitch(20)

Jenna leans in for a hug. “You know,” she whispers, “we’re not doing a head table. I scattered the bridesmaids throughout the reception. For instance, if someone happened to switch your place setting with Theodore Ackers at table two, I wouldn’t be the wiser.” She pulls away and winks.

When they move to the next guest, I take off to the table settings to search for Theodore Ackers.

Once I’ve traded the name tags, I take my seat and wait for Pepper to find me.

Another new one for me. I don’t believe I’ve ever stalked a woman at a wedding before. In fact, I’ve never chased a woman before. I don’t know what it is about Miss Abby Pepper, but I’ll have a bloody good time finding out.





C HAPTE R 7

TILLY

O livia exits the bathroom stall with a huff when she sees me washing my hands. “What do you think I’m going to do, Abby? Sneak Jacob in under my skirt?”

“It must be exhausting,” I say.

“What is?” she snips.

“Carrying around so much hate. You know, two of my sisters married into a family who values their chosen members just as much as their blood ones, but not one of them balks when a new person enters the fold. They literally open their arms and make them one of their own. Wouldn’t it be better to be part of a family rather than trying to tear it apart?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hisses. “I’ll never be part of their family. Jenna and Melinda have always made sure of that.” There’s an edge and a sadness to her words, and I almost feel sorry for her. Then she opens her mouth again. “My wedding will make this one look like trailer trash.”

I see red. I didn’t grow up in a trailer, but close enough. Camden Crossing is the armpit of North Carolina, and only by the grace of God and my sister Emory did we have a roof over our heads.

Being raised in a town that also held our name did nothing for our lot in life.

She storms off before I can lay into her. I take a few calming breaths, then follow her into the ballroom. She’s standing across from a man with his back to me, and she has an odd expression as she speaks to him. By every indication, he’s relaxed, exuding a confidence I can feel from here.

I move quickly toward the table, knowing I’m seated next to her, and I nearly stumble in my stilettos when she coos, “Maybe we could get out of here,” in a sickeningly sweet voice.

I’m not sure who the man is, but I can tell by his suit and shiny watch that he’s wealthy. You pick up on these things after working for a few billionaires. God, she’s disgusting.

“Wouldn’t your boyfriend object to that?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You know, the boyfriend you slept with while he was still your stepsister’s fiancé? I can’t imagine he’d take too kindly to your advances here.”

Her face goes volcanic. She downs her drink and then slams the glass on the table. Before she can spew any more hate, I place my palms on the table and lean in.

“Do not make a scene here, Olivia,” I warn her in a deadly calm voice that’s equally aggressive.

“Remember how much appearances mean to Daddy dearest.”

“You’re such a cunt.”

Air stills in my lungs as shock registers. I’ve never been called the c-word before, but I refuse to react in kind. “Sit. Down. Olivia.”

She calls for a server and orders two more cocktails. Shit. This is going to be a long night.

With a heavy sigh, I straighten and pull out the chair in front of me. Only then do I remember the stranger to my left. Easing myself down, I chance a peek at him and instantly wish I hadn’t. He’s the stranger from the ceremony, with a smirk I’ll dream about and sparkling blue eyes that turn my insides to liquid. But it’s his troublemaking expression that has me so nervous I nearly miss my chair. He reaches out with one hand to steady me, and I feel his touch everywhere.

My face flushes, and for once, I’m thankful for my darker complexion. My sisters would be fire-engine red right now. When I’m seated, the sexy stranger gives a slow clap, and Olivia scoffs.

“Hello, Pepper. It’s nice to meet you. You’ve had quite the job here today.” His low baritone causes my skin to pebble with goosebumps.

“Oh, I’m…”

“Blaine? I’ll be damned. I thought that was you.” We’re interrupted by a fast-talking, slimy-looking, middle-aged balding man.

“Adam,” the man apparently named Blaine replies. His tone has gone cold though, and he’s shielding me from Adam’s view. It’s oddly protective, and even more strangely, my body reacts as if it likes it.

“I told Roger I thought that was you, but he disagreed. Said you never socialize with peasants.”

He gives a throaty laugh that’s much too phlegmy and makes me want to gag.

“I socialize plenty with people deserving of my time. You, Adam, are not one of them. If you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of a conversation.”

I hear Adam balk, even though I can’t see past the wall of a man beside me. But Blaine doesn’t give him another breath and instead turns his attention back to me.

“Well, that was kind of rude, wasn’t it, Blaine?” I say. What the heck kind of name is Blaine, anyway? It sounds like knock-off-Barbie’s Ken doll.