28. Noah
NOAH
I t’s Valentine’s Day, that heart-shaped day we’ve all been waiting for, also known as the day of the double wedding.
The Honey Hollow Bed and Breakfast is decorated to the hilt in all things hearts, all things floral, and basically, all things wedding.
The building itself reminds me of a haunted house I visited as a kid—it’s tall, white, stately, with lots of columns, a sweeping wrought-iron staircase that leads to the second level, lots of dark wood flooring inside, creamy marble counters, lots of rooms, lots of dark halls, an entire army of chandeliers, and it even has a room made of glass—the conservatory. Which happens to be the very room where the holy matrimony times two is set to take place.
I spot Lottie off near the library, talking to what looks like thin air.
Have I mentioned this place is inhabited by a family of ghosts? They’re a lovable bunch if you’re into machete-wielding little girls who are perpetually in a bad mood.
But I’m on the lookout for another girl entirely—my sister.
Miranda speeds this way, looking lovely in a long peach gown and carrying a bouquet of pink roses.
“Miranda,” I call out, and she pauses in front of me, nearly out of breath.
“Lainey has Lyla Nell with her in my office,” she says, eager to pass me by. “I thought we might need a room away from the conservatory where the kids can take a break. Of course, any of you are welcome to go up to my suite and watch them there as well. I’m just a little busy at the moment.”
“Well, thank you. I was actually going to ask if you knew where I could find my sister.”
“Oh, that.” She waves me off, and the diamonds on her bracelet sparkle and shine. I know for a fact my father didn’t gift them to her. That is, unless he’s committed a bank heist. And it wouldn’t be the first time. “I’ve converted the formal dining room into a bridal dressing room. Just knock on the shoji screen I placed in front of it!”
She takes off, and I head for the dining room, giving a little friendly knock right over the do not enter sign.
Mom pokes her head out. “Oh, Noah, come in,” she says with those gold teeth of hers gleaming.
I will never in a million years times a million get used to that.
“It’s just Noah,” she squawks and sounds more than a little disappointed as she pats a tiny bump on her chest. It’s then I see she’s holding my shiny new niece, Willow.
“Expecting Elvis?” I tease.
Elvis Presley was my mother’s favorite singer, along with her biggest celebrity crush. I may have caught her smooching with his album covers a time or two.
“I thought you might be Jed,” she says.
The dining room is no more—or more to the point, it’s covered in veils, dresses of every shape and size, flowers, more flowers, and what looks to be the entire cosmetics counter at the mall.
Meg is seated at the far end with a white robe split down the middle, and I can see she’s nursing Piper, while Keelie stands behind her, pulling and tugging at her tresses. And Charlie stands guard in front while dusting the cheeks of the bride-to-be with a fuzzy-looking brush.
And alas, my sister is on the opposite end of the room, scrolling through her phone at a frenetic pace and frowning. Her hair is in rollers, her face is covered in green goo, and she’s wrapped in a robe that looks as if it’s seen better days.
Mom continues to sway with baby Willow close to her chest, and the infant seems content, more or less, considering she’s just inches from my mother’s stunning smile. And I don’t mean stunning in a good way.
“Sam,” I say, heading her way. “You can’t be expecting Jed,” I say to both her and my mother while I pull Sam in for a quick embrace. “That would be bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”
“Don’t be silly, Noah.” Mom openly scoffs at me. “Meg and Hook have been canoodling all afternoon.”
“And I woke up with Jed,” Sam points out, not taking her eyes off her phone. “I made it crystal clear he had to be here an hour before the wedding began. Why does he have to be chronically late for everything?”
“Not everything.” Mom rolls her eyes toward the window. “He certainly showed up just in time when both you and Meg were ovulating.”
“So true,” I say, shaking my head before snapping out of my Jed Silver-inspired trance and smile over at my sister. “Are you ready to do this?”
She jerks her phone from her line of sight and growls my way. “Do I look ready to do anything, Noah?” she shouts as the green goo starts to slide off her face.
“Don’t mind her.” Mom waves me away. “It’s just wedding day jitters.” Mom sheds a toothy smile while patting little Willow over the back.
As soon as that kid sees what’s holding her, she’s going to test out those lungs once again.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask my sister, and I mean it with everything in me. I’d do anything, even put Jed Silver in the morgue if that was her last request as a single woman.
Heck, I’d do it for her if it were an afterthought.
“There is something you could do for me,” Sam says, getting lost in scrolling through her phone again, this time far more frantically than before. “Go out there and make sure everything looks just right. And then sit down and enjoy yourself. At least one of us should.”
“Okay,” I say with a light chuckle. “But if you need me, I’ll be right in the next room vacuuming up the dessert table. And just so you know, I’m packing heat.” I touch my gun with my elbow as it sits beneath the jacket of my suit, and Sam doesn’t even acknowledge my attempt to add levity to the situation.
I drop a kiss to the top of Willow’s head and make my way out of the bridal zone.
I don’t get two feet into the hall when I hear Willow exercising her lungs once again. I’m guessing she’s seen my mother’s shining smile.
I’m about to make my way to the dessert spread when I nearly run right through Everett.
“Watch it, big guy.” I frown his way.
“You watch it, twerp,” he says, and I’m not amused.
“Hey, have you seen Jed? My sister is in a mood, and I think he’s the one who’s putting her in it. I know she’d feel better once she knew he was here.”
Everett’s face hardens to stone. He gives a brief glance over his shoulder before hitching his head toward an alcove just shy of the conservatory.
“We need to talk.”