Brother of the Bride (Wedding Disasters #3)

Chapter 1

AIDYN

As I clear the mess left by a family of four, a sparkly blur catches my attention. Zye. Twirling. Again. And before I can stop him, his outstretched arms knock Mrs. Weppler’s iced tea into her lap.

Zye jerks to a stop, and his hands fly to his face. The kid is seventeen, but he looks younger with his spiked white hair and elfin face. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weppler.”

Her smile is stiff as she wipes splotches of tea from her dress. “It’s fine, dear.” But fresh tears shine in her eyes. Jesus. Of all the people and all the days…

“Lanie,” I yell to my nine-year-old daughter, who’s clearing tables on the other side of the diner, “get me my mop.” Then I shoo Zye away. Not that he goes very far. I ignore him, for now. “I’m sorry, Lorrainne. He’s just a kid—” Way to make it worse. “I mean—”

“Stop, please.” She presses her lips together and sniffs. Then she points her finger at me. The same one she pointed at me when Lanie’s library books were overdue by one day. “I’m barely holding on as it is, Aidyn Christy, so don’t you dare make it worse.”

Christ. Now she’s full-naming me. Most people call me Christy. That’s what everyone calls my da back at our family pub in Dublin. It’s a tradition. No one calls me Aidyn. Almost no one. “I was trying to be nice.”

“Exactly. You’re never nice.”

“That’s not true. I’m nice sometimes.”

Zye snorts, and I glare at him. Lanie is standing beside him with the mop, but she ducks her head, and I’m fairly sure she’s trying not to grin.

“Maybe I have good reasons to be grumpy,” I say to them both before turning back to Mrs. Weppler.

“Much better.” She throws money on the table, careful to avoid the puddle of tea dripping off the edge and onto the floor.

Normally, I wouldn’t leave a mess to stop and chat, but Mrs. Weppler’s daughter decided to skip her own wedding in favor of eloping to Vegas.

There was some fighting going on between the bride’s and groom’s parents, from what I hear.

The wedding cake Mrs. Weppler had me bake is still in the refrigerator.

I tried to get her to take it since she paid for it. But she wouldn’t go for it.

Mrs. Weppler rushes out with a wave of her hand, barely missing another couple entering the diner. Grabbing my mop from Lanie, I nod toward the customers. “Go on, lass. I’ve got this.”

Emily and I opened Christy’s Café when Lanie was but a wee babe. She was raised in the diner. I’ve encouraged her to do other things. Kid things. But she wants to be here helping out. Especially since her ma is gone.

The diner has been busy all day. This is one of the only places to eat in Mule Creek, but that’s not the reason for the rush of townsfolk. We’re closed tomorrow for a family event.

I mop up the spilled drink, scowling at Zye every so often so he gets my message. I’ve had it with all the spinning. He hovers, picking at the rhinestones that spell out DIVA on his shirt.

When he catches my glare, he raises his chin. “Do you want me to clean it?”

“No.” As if I’d let him touch my mop. “But you cannot twirl in here, Zye. Go outside.” My Irish brogue gets more pronounced when I’m stressed or excited. And right now, I’m stressed beyond my limit.

His hands go to his hips, not backing down one bit. This boy gets on my last nerve, but he’s tougher than most. Stubborn. “It was an accident.”

“I know, lad.”

I try to take my annoyance down a notch even as my chest tightens at his words. Accidents happen. I know that better than anyone. And maybe that’s the reason I’m on edge. It’s been two years since the accident that took my sweet Emily, and it still feels like yesterday.

He huffs. “Then why are you glaring at me?”

The lad will be a senior in high school when summer break is over, but he’s got the enthusiasm of a kindergartener and the scars of someone much older. Zye doesn’t talk about his home life or his past, but sometimes, I can see flashes of pain. Not fresh, but like they’ve been brewing for a while.

Zye plans to go to Northwest State in Maryville after high school and become a certified event planner. Which annoys me because he has no experience yet, but he’s planning my sister-in-law’s wedding.

All the build-up to the big day—shite, that’s tomorrow—brings bittersweet memories that have me wanting to laugh and cry and hide in my room until it’s all over.

Emily would have loved planning her sister’s wedding.

A wave of melancholy hits me right in the chest. Not that my sadness is ever gone. But sometimes it slips behind the anger, catching me unaware. Emily is supposed to be here for this.

And for Lanie. The lass is only nine, but it won’t be long before she’s going through things she’ll need her mother for. Not a grumpy dad who’s barely holding it together.

“Christy, stop picking on my wedding planner.”

When did Jane get here? Probably while I was glaring at Zye. She snaps her gum—which she knows I hate—and grins as she grabs my arm with both hands and pulls herself up to kiss my cheek. At five feet one, she’s a wee lass. I’m about a foot taller.

My shoulders relax as my mood softens. I love this girl as if she were my own sister. She and Emily were close, although not in age. Jane’s the baby of the family. Born nine years after Emily.

We moved from Ireland to Mule Creek when Lanie was a babe, so Emily could be close to her family. Jane has been in our lives ever since.

“He’s a kid,” I tell her. “Was there really no one else you could get?”

She blushes, and I’m not entirely sure why. “It works for everyone. Zye gets experience and we…don’t spend too much on the wedding.”

There it is. I’m not as close to Isaac, her fiancé.

But he’s studying to be an accountant at the University of Central Missouri in Warrensburg and is obsessed with planning their lives.

My eyes stray to Jane’s belly. Some things didn’t get planned as well.

And maybe that’s why Isaac is being stingy about the wedding.

They’ll have a child to worry about in the next couple of months.

Jesus. They’re really just kids themselves, both of them barely twenty.

Zye and Jane get a booth and discuss the final plans for the wedding. The lunch rush is winding down, so I go about my business serving food and bussing tables until Jane waves me over.

“What?”

She grins at me. “Is the cake ready?”

“Do you think I’d wait until the day before the wedding to make the cake?”

“Just checking, Christy. I want my wedding to be perfect.”

“It will be,” Zye says. “I promise.”

I scowl at him. “You can’t promise, lad. Things happen—” I stop as Jane’s smile drops. She blinks a few times. “Jane, I’m—”

My words are lost as she makes an excuse, jumps up, and runs from the room. Losing Emily still hurts even after two years. I sometimes forget I’m not the only one in pain. I jab a finger at Zye. “Don’t say it.”

But I recognize that mulish look on his face. “You’re grumpier than normal, Aidyn. And you made my bride cry.”

“Am not. And don’t call me that.” No one calls me by my first name. Only Emily and— Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. Is that why I’m on edge? Garrett fucking Bishop will be home for the wedding. Probably already is. But I can’t let that horse’s arse distract me.

Zye gets a soft look in his eyes that I don’t like one bit. “You’re right. Nothing is set. That’s why you have to grab onto things that make you happy.”

“You’re seventeen. What do you know?” I move to the next table, clearing the dishes and trash, and hoping he’ll go away. No luck.

“Even a grump like you deserves a happily ever—” His hands go to his mouth. “Sorry, Christy.”

I take pity on him and don’t throw him out. “Emily was the love of my life,” I say in a way I hope ends this conversation. We’d planned on forever and got less than ten years together. “So that’s that.”

He picks at the sparkly letters on his shirt. “I don’t think you only get one chance at love.” He shrugs. “But what do I know?”

“I’ve got my Lanie. She’s my focus.” I wave at the door. “Now leave me be and go check on your bride.”

I expect the tightness in my chest to lessen once Zye is gone. He’s either breaking something or talking about weddings—the boy is obsessed. But I still can’t catch my breath. Jane’s wedding has me on edge. I miss Emily something fierce.

Lanie doesn’t want to leave while we’re so busy, but I convince her Jane needs her help with the wedding stuff. Lanie’s had the biggest smile on her face all week…and the saddest look when she thinks I don’t notice.

Stop being a stubborn ass, Aidyn.

I hear the words in Emily’s voice. She said them often enough. But always with love.

During the afternoon lull, I ask Ramon to handle things while I take a break from all the people and the wedding talk.

He frowns at me, but I wave him off. I just need a minute.

The window seat in the corner doesn’t make much sense in a kitchen, but Lanie used to sit there and watch me cook while her mom was out serving customers.

The garden outside the window is in full bloom with Emily’s favorite flowers and spices.

Lanie especially loves the orange daylilies.

I press my palms into my eyes, trying to stop the flood of memories and tears. Get it together, Aidyn.

I’ve had to hold it together for Lanie’s sake, but Jane getting married…

I rub at the pain in my chest. Emily would have taken over in a way that still had everyone loving her.

Teasing Isaac. Getting him to not take everything so seriously.

Making Jane laugh. I can see it so clearly.

Like, at any moment, she’s going to walk through the door.

Why is this still so hard?

I miss her smile. Her voice. Her arms around me as she teased me. “My grumpy Irishman.”

I miss having someone by my side and in my bed. Zye’s words come back to me. But he’s wrong. I don’t deserve another chance.

Jane has tried to convince me to date again, but I’m thirty-two. I have a nine-year-old child to raise and a diner to run. I don’t have the time or energy for more.

And if, by some miracle, I found someone, could I risk another loss?

My watch beeps at fifteen minutes. Time’s up. I lock my melancholy back in its box and pull myself together. We have the dinner rush to get through.

When Jane and Lanie return hours later, Jane catches my eye and gestures to a booth. My stomach sinks. This isn’t a quick chat.

I grab a coffee for me and a lemonade for her. Even though it’s July in Missouri and hot, I still need coffee, especially after the long day. I swear that everyone in town stopped in.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” I say, straight away.

She squeezes my hand. “It’s fine, Christy.” But her gaze is on the scarred table instead of me. She traces her fingers along the grooves left by not-so-clever teens. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

“Go on.” I try to keep the growl out of my words, but I can tell I’m not successful when I catch a quick smile on her lips before it disappears.

“I’m worried about tomorrow…”

“D’ya want to see the cake? It’s ready.”

She shakes her head, still not looking at me. “I need you and Garrett to get along.”

Garrett—my blood pressure rises just hearing his name. Jane’s confirmation makes me realize there was a part of me that expected him not to show. He’s only returned to Mule Creek a few times since Emily passed away.

But Garrett loves his sisters more than anything. So, of course, he’ll be at the wedding, but I haven’t considered what that will look like. Or thought about what happened the last time I saw him.

“Maybe you should talk to him, Jane. He starts it. Every damn time.”

“I’m talking to you, Christy, because you’re the one who might listen to me. But I did tell Garrett that fighting with our brother-in-law at my wedding would not go well for him.” She keeps her gaze locked on me until I finally break.

“Fine.” I sigh. Not as dramatically as Zye, but it’s probably close. “I’ll try.” And I will. There’s no way I’m going to let snooty, too-good-for-his-family Garrett ruin this wedding.