Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
And they had all complied with that card. Except for the groom’s parents and sister. Who weren’t well-liked by the bride’s parents.
“Holy fuck, dude. I am never getting married,” I said, before I could attempt to keep the thought inside my head.
Scott’s mom and dad looked apprehensive and confused as Scott approached them, but even from twenty feet away, I could read Charlotte’s total mortification. I turned my attention back to the bear.
A woman in a headset approached and said, to the bear-keeper, not to me, “Time to get into position.”
The bridesmaids arrived, driven on two electric golf carts. They huddled together for a second when they got off, and their faces were extremely serious.
Something didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t just the bear drool that hit my foot. I hoped Scott didn’t pick up on it. I deftly avoided Daisy’s curious paw as she attempted to grab my ankle again.
Maybe I was imagining that something was going wrong. Maybe I secretly wanted something to go wrong out of some sense of losing my best friend to marriage, or jealousy that despite my numerous engagements, I’d never made it this close to walking down the aisle. But I liked to think I was a better person than that.
And the bear was suddenly anxious, too. Not anxious enough to leave my ankle alone; I had to shake myself free yet again.
I spotted one of the bridesmaids I remembered from game night. Her name started with an S. Sarah? Sydney? Not Susan. It didn’t matter. She’d hung on the arm of my chair all night, so I knew she knew who I was, at least. I raised a hand to wave her over. She made a “one minute” gesture to another bridesmaid and came reluctantly close to me and the bear.
“What’s going on?” I asked, as the string quartet started Pachelbel’s canon in D major. Which meant the wedding had started. Scott was walking his mother to her seat.
And the bride wasn’t here.
“What’s going on, buddy?” I asked the bridesmaid.
“You don’t remember my name,” she accused me.
I nodded toward the cluster of bridesmaids. “Is that the biggest problem at the moment, friend?”
Her face fell. “It’s all going to be fine.”
“Is it?” I demanded. The women had to close ranks to protect their friend; I understood and respected that. I needed to protect my friend, though. “Because if it’s not, you need to tell me right now, before Scott makes a fool of himself.”
“No, I’m sure it’s fine. She’s running a little bit late.”
“Here.” The bear handler pressed the leash into my hand. “Don’t let go of that.”
“If it tries to eat me, I’m letting go,” I warned, side-stepping Daisy’s paw again as the woman moved off, leaving me alone with the fucking bear while I tried to figure out where the hell the bride was.
“Is she coming?” I snapped at the bridesmaid.
Her face went pale.
I looked back at the canopy, under which my best friend now stood proudly in front of the driftwood altar, awaiting Benedict Lauren.
“Jesus.” I ran a hand through my hair. The bear was no longer the scariest thing in the general vicinity. “So, do I go tell him or—”
“No, no, no,” the woman insisted. “Don’t say a thing. She might change her mind.”
“It sounds like she did change her mind.” I had no loyalty to Lauren, no reason to protect her. On the other hand, if she changed her mind back and came zooming over the horizon dangling off the back of a golf cart before anyone was the wiser, what good would come of telling Scott about her second thoughts?
How long did one wait before breaking the news to a groom that the bride wasn’t coming?
This was going to ruin his life.
I made my decision fast. “Get her on the phone right now. Tell her to get her spoiled ass down here or I will make a rug out of this god damn bear!”
It was a bad time to find out that Daisy understood English. With an annoyed growl, her massive claw slashed across my calf. Blood splattered on the sand and sidewalk and the bridesmaid beside me screamed. The bear handler was back in an instant, but to tend to the bear, not the guy bleeding out on the sand.
“Oh my god!” another bridesmaid screamed, and that got the attention of everyone under the canopy. There were shouts and horrified gasps, and Scott jogged back up the aisle and out to help me.
“Are you okay?” he asked as I limped toward him, blood flowing down my leg. At least, I couldn’t feel the pain.
Oh wait. There it was.
I gritted my teeth against what felt like a rush of fire consuming me from the ankle up. “Scott, you need to—”
“Holy shit! Hey, someone call nine-one-one!” Scott shouted, waving his arms.