Wedding Dashers

Chapter 23

22 hours until the wedding

As soon as I enter my hotel room, I understand exactly how Mia Thermopolis must have felt when she was first shown her royal bedroom in Genovia because holy cow is this room amazing.

My eyes zip from the floor-length windows draped in plush velvet curtains to the massive four-poster bed in the center of the room.

I can’t believe I complained about coming to this wedding. I take it all back. Especially the part about the overpriced castle .

I sink into the zillion-thread-count bedding, already plotting how I can stay wrapped in this glorious duvet instead of going to the rehearsal, but alas, I think someone might notice if the maid of honor doesn’t turn up.

I open my luggage, searching for the black midi skirt I packed for the rehearsal dinner. I used to call it my date night skirt because I would wear it out with Carter. He said he liked it because it made my ass look good. And he was right.

After I add a black halter top, a pair of dangly earrings, and a pop of red lipstick, I head back down to the lobby in search of Jack. I’m turning the corner past the elevators when I spot familiar broad shoulders straining under a charcoal suit jacket, that even with his back turned to me, I can tell fits Jack in all the right places. Standing opposite him is Collin, dressed in a dark navy suit, hair combed back like a nineties Wall Street tycoon.

I wait for Collin to notice me, but his eyes stay grounded on Jack, expression darkening. “I’m freaking out,” he says, voice a low rasp. “What if this whole thing is a mistake?”

“It’s not,” Jack says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I told you last night, it’s just cold feet. Everything is going to be fine.”

My body stiffens, pulse throbbing against my neck.

I should probably turn around, pretend I didn’t hear anything, but my feet stay rooted to the floor.

“You were the one who told me not to get married. So, what? Now you think I should?” Collin asks.

Jack shifts his weight, adjusting his stance. “You love her, right?”

Collin runs a hand through his sandy hair, jaw tightening. “Of course I love her, but what if it’s not enough? What if we can’t make it work? We’ve known each other less than a year.”

“Come on, Collin,” Jack says, voice firm. “The wedding is tomorrow. You need to get a grip.”

The muscles in Collin’s throat flex as he swallows. “Is this how you felt before you married Lexi?”

Jack’s shoulders grow rigid. “Things with her were different. You know that.”

Collin opens his mouth to respond, but just as he does, his eyes sidestep to me. I instantly pull my gaze away, pretending to be engrossed in a painting and not like I was eavesdropping.

Collin clears his throat. “Hey, Ada.”

At the mention of my name, Jack turns around, eyes dragging up and down my body with unfettered interest, something that would have normally built a fire in my stomach. Instead, blood pumps loudly in my ears, palms growing sticky with panic.

“Ada,” Jack says, voice a little breathless, like he’s taken the stairs too fast.

I force my eyes up, pretending to have just noticed them. “Hey, I didn’t even recognize you guys. You look so…fancy,” I say with a nervous laugh.

Collin forces a tight smile as he slides a hand around my shoulder and pulls me into a very youth group-y side hug. “How was the trip here?” he asks.

“Fine. Good,” I say, hoping to mask the chaos breaking loose inside me, but I can’t seem to catch a breath. Or swallow properly. It’s like my throat’s been coated in tar.

I think back to last night, to Jack’s phone buzzing on the pub table. To his terse “just wedding stuff ” as he’d taken one glance at the screen and stuffed it back in his pocket.

Is that why Collin had been blowing up Jack’s phone? Because he was freaking out about getting married?

The thought makes my stomach pendulate, acid rising in my throat.

Though I’m not sure which is worse: That Collin’s having second thoughts about marrying Allison? Or that Jack knew—at least since last night—and didn’t tell me?

Jack tilts his head, examining my face. “Ada? Everything okay?”

I think about confronting them, demanding that they explain what the hell is going on, but a voice of reason intervenes to remind me that on the other side of those doors are a hundred guests, none of whom have traveled six thousand miles to hear the maid of honor lay into the groom and best man. Or maybe they have, but that’s not a show they’ll be getting tonight.

No, I’ll have to handle this more discreetly.

“I’m fine,” I say again. “Totally fine.”

Jack frowns, clearly dubious, but doesn’t say anything.

“We should go in there,” Collin says, pointing to a wide set of double doors. “You know how Allison doesn’t like to wait.” He flashes us a faulty grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before gesturing for us to follow him.

As we step into the party, my brain whirs to action, attempting to formulate a plan.

Should I tell Allison that Collin’s having second thoughts?

No, of course not. She’ll panic. I’ll have to figure this out on my own.

But how? Convince Collin to go through with a marriage he isn’t sure about? That’s not exactly a stellar plan either.

Ahead, I catch a glimpse of Collin’s profile. He’s smiling and laughing as he greets guests, but behind his eyes there’s a rigidity that makes my gut twist.

This is exactly what I was worried about. That Collin and Allison were rushing into things. That Collin couldn’t be trusted. And now I’m going to have to clean up the mess the way I always knew I would.

Allison and Collin opted for a rehearsal dinner sans an actual rehearsal since, as Allison put it, she didn’t want to steal the thunder of the real thing , which means it’s just an excuse for another expensive party.

Hors d’oeuvres and champagne flow freely from the silver trays of cocktail waiters. There’s even a jazz band in the corner. But I’m not paying attention to any of it. All I can think about is knocking back a drink and figuring out what the hell I’m going to do about Collin.

I’m making a beeline to the open bar when I’m intercepted by Bill, who promptly wraps me in a big bear hug. “Kiddo, you made it,” he says, squeezing me tight.

“Hey, Bill.” I hug him back, inhaling the familiar scent of Old Spice.

In true Seattle fashion, Bill is wildly underdressed in khakis and a North Face puffer vest.

“How was the trip here?” he asks. “Allison said something about you traveling with the best man?”

As though of their own accord, my eyes find Jack on the other side of the room, engrossed in conversation with Collin’s friends. My gaze pulls his and he looks up, eyes meeting mine, but I snap my attention back to Bill.

“We made it in one piece,” I tell him.

“Well, it’s lucky you two found each other,” Bill says. “We were worried you weren’t going to make it.”

“Lucky is one way of putting it.”

“Do you, uh…” His brow furrows. “Need money or anything? I’m sure it wasn’t cheap traveling all that way.”

I shift my weight, suddenly feeling like my clothes are too tight.

“I’m fine,” I lie.

He nods, but lingering traces of worry still line his eyes. “Any leads on the job hunt?”

“A few.”

His eyes warm. “That’s great, kiddo. Glad to hear it.”

I don’t like lying to Bill, but it’s not a good idea to tell my parents about my plans to reopen Sleeve It to Me. Not with Allison’s wedding—and possible fallout—looming on the horizon.

“So, how’s everything been here?” I ask. “How are Allison and Mom?”

“Oh, you know, a crisis a minute, but we’re getting through it,” he says good-naturedly. “I think your mom is trying to distract herself from the stress of the wedding by trying to set you up with someone. The neighbor’s kid, last I heard.”

“Oh, I heard,” I tell him. “I think she’s hoping it will be a double wedding.”

Bill laughs, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her. She’s just stressed, is all. You know how she is. Just wants the best for you girls.”

I cast Bill a grateful smile.

“And Allison’s been looking for you,” he says. “She keeps asking if you’re here yet.” Bill’s eyes drift across the room and I follow his gaze.

In the corner of the room, every bit the center of attention, is Allison, dressed in white, blond hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, the very image of the blushing bride.

When I look back at Bill, his eyes are already misting over.

“Oh, Bill,” I say, patting his arm, a nervous laugh bubbling out of me. “It’s not even the wedding yet.”

“I know, I know…” He shakes his head. “I knew this day would come; I just didn’t know it’d come so fast. I blinked and you girls grew up.”

I’m about to tell him he doesn’t have to worry about me getting married anytime soon, when I see Allison making a beeline in my direction.

“Duty calls,” I tell Bill. He gives my shoulder a squeeze before sauntering off in the direction of the bar.

“Finally!” she cries. “I was about to promote Britney to maid of honor!”

I give her a pinched smile. “Not too late.”

She rolls her eyes before wrapping me in a hug that’s just a little too tight to be entirely friendly. “Where’s the veil?”

“What veil?” I ask, bringing my hands to my face with cartoonish surprise.

She glares at me. “Not funny.”

“It’s up in my room,” I tell her. “And don’t worry. Your precious veil is in mint condition.”

Apart from the minor surgery Jack had to perform, that is. But she doesn’t need to know about that. That will be my and Jack’s dirty little secret.

Speaking of Jack, my eyes scan the room until I find him talking with an older couple I assume are Collin’s parents. They’re both laughing at something he’s just said.

“So,” Allison says, following my gaze. “I see you and Houghton made it here in one piece.”

“We got along, actually,” I tell her. “He’s a nice guy.”

She scoffs. “Don’t tell me you fell for it.”

“Fell for what?”

“His whole charming routine ,” she says, using air quotes. “He’s just trying to get in your pants, you know.”

The air in my lungs thickens.

“Trust me, he’s not,” I tell her, just as a waiter passes us with a plate of small puff pastry–type things. Thankful for the excuse to do something with my hands and face, I stuff one into my mouth.

Holy crap . This is delicious.

“What are these?” I garble between bites of meat and pastry goodness.

“Mini sausage rolls,” Allison says. “Apparently they are really popular here.”

“These are amazing,” I say, grabbing four more.

Allison takes one, too, and I wrinkle my nose. “I thought you weren’t eating gluten anymore? Didn’t you say it made you break out?”

“But I’m starving.” She shoves two into her mouth, smudging her perfect cherry lip. “I’ve been so busy with wedding stuff I haven’t eaten all day.”

“I can go find you something else,” I say, eyes darting around the room for another waiter. “Maybe I can see if they have rice crackers or—”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I’ll just—”

“Ada. Seriously.” She gives me a firm look. “I’m fine .”

I put my hands up in a sign of surrender and finish chewing.

“So, how are you feeling about the wedding?” I ask, brushing the crumbs from my mouth.

“Good. There was a thing with the dinner menu, but—”

“No, I mean about getting married. To Collin,” I clarify.

“Oh.” She looks visibly uncomfortable. “Fine. I guess,” she answers stiffly.

She guesses?

“How’s Collin? Is he excited?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral and not at all like I’m keeping a nuclear secret.

Allison’s perfectly made-up gaze shifts to the floor. “I think so.”

“What do you mean you think so ? Did he say something?” I study her expression, looking for clues that she might sense something’s wrong.

“No, we’ve just both been so busy we haven’t had a ton of time together.”

Interesting. Is Collin avoiding her? Because he’s having doubts?

“So you still want to do this?” I ask, eyes probing hers.

Her brows dip into a scowl. “ This ?”

“ This .” I gesture around the room. “ Get married . Because if you don’t, it’s not too late, you know.” I lean in, lowering my voice to a whisper. “We could call the whole thing off if you want. I’m pretty sure I can wrangle up a horse for you to escape on like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride . Just say the word.”

Allison pulls away from me, mouth tilting into a pinched frown. “I knew you were going to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Come in here and…and…” Her voice sputters, eyes popping. “And try to convince me not to marry him!”

“I’m not,” I say quickly. “I just want to make sure you feel totally comfortable with your decision to enter into a legally binding contract that expires only in death.”

Allison glares at me. “I know you don’t like Collin. But I’m going through with it, Ada. And if you don’t like it, too bad.” And with that, she storms off, white dress billowing behind her.

Great. Now Allison’s mad at me. Or madder , I guess. But that’s not my biggest problem right now. My biggest problem is that I need to figure out what the hell is going on with Collin so I can fix it before it’s too late.

I spot Jack on the other side of the room and I make my way toward him. He’s mid-conversation with Collin’s parents when I grab his arm.

“I need to talk to you,” I say, not bothering to apologize for interrupting.

He frowns. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now.” And before he can protest, I’m dragging him out a set of glass doors and onto the darkened patio overlooking the lawn.

“What the hell, Ada? What’s going on?” Jack demands, as the door shuts behind us, muffling the sounds of clinking glassware and laughter.

I turn to face him. “When were you going to tell me that Collin is having doubts about marrying my sister?”

His gaze widens as comprehension slogs through his features. “You heard us talking?”

“I did.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, currents of frustration weaving through his features. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he says after a pause.

“So, what? You were just going to hide the fact that Collin’s freaking out about marrying Allison?”

Jack shakes his head, jaw muscles pulling taut. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what’s it like? Because it sounds like you knew that Collin was having second thoughts and you didn’t tell me!”

As the words fly out of my mouth, echoing in the darkness around us, I feel almost jittery, like my finely curated restraint has finally snapped, and I’m no longer in control.

Jack looks away, eyes not meeting mine. “He’s just nervous, is all.”

“Because you told him marriage is a trap?” I counter.

“I have it handled, okay?”

“How?”

His lips draw apart, close, then part again. “Just let me deal with it,” he says.

I step closer. “Oh, because you’ve been dealing with it so well?”

His eyes darken, emulsifying into two black pools, and for a minute I think he’s going to push back, tell me I’m wrong. Instead, he draws a long, jagged breath that rattles as though torn straight from his gut.

“I’m sorry,” he says at last. “I know I should have told you how Collin was feeling, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were already freaked out about Allison and this wedding, and I didn’t want to make it worse. I figured it was my mess to clean up since I’m the one who told Collin not to get married.” He pauses, shaking his head in frustration. “But this is just one more thing I’ve managed to fuck up.”

My body stiffens like I’m preparing to be struck by lightning. I want to get mad, to accuse Jack of ruining everything. But somewhere past the haze of my own anger and fear, I can see that whatever’s going on between him and Collin, it’s weighing heavily on Jack, and piling on him won’t solve anything.

I release a heavy breath, letting the tension float outward, away from my center.

“You should have told me,” I say at last.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says again.

Our eyes latch, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

“How long has Collin been feeling this way?” I ask.

He kicks at a pebble, sending it into the blackness. “He told me about a week ago that he was nervous, but I honestly thought the whole thing would blow over. That he’d get to Ireland and forget all about his cold feet.”

“Is that what you meant when you said it was between you and Collin?” I ask, thinking back to what Jack had said in the car.

Jack looks away, brow scrunching against the moonlight, and I think I’m about to get another brush-off, but his chin tips into a slow nod, dragging his gaze back to me. “Our relationship’s been strained since Lexi asked for the divorce, but that’s mostly my fault.”

I step closer, eyeing him carefully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that telling my best friend not to marry the love of his life is a pretty shitty thing to do,” he says, eyes landing on mine with the kind of force that feels like friction. “Especially when Collin has always been there for me.”

He looks down at the Rolex on his wrist, wincing like it contains bad memories.

“After my mom died, I stopped trying at pretty much everything. It was like the part of my brain that was supposed to care about stuff just stopped working, and slowly everyone in my life gave up on me. Teachers. Friends. Everyone except Collin. He’s the one person who stood by my side through all of it.” Jack pauses, moonlight-struck eyes lifting to meet mine before he says, “I know you’re worried about Allison, but I promise Collin’s a good guy. He’s just nervous. That’s all.”

I want to jump in and explain why Collin can’t be trusted, now perhaps more than ever, but something about the earnestness on Jack’s face and the tenderness with which he speaks about Collin gives me pause, and slowly I retreat.

Maybe Jack was right and I’ve allowed past experiences to cloud my judgment of Collin.

Maybe this whole time I’ve been attempting to paint Collin in broad strokes of black and white, when really what I need are finer, more detail-oriented brushes, the kind that leave room for nuance.

“Sounds like Collin’s a good friend,” I say at last.

“He is.” There’s a guardedness to his expression, letting me know he hasn’t yet forgotten my criticisms of Collin. “He’s one of the best people I know.”

“And you think he loves her?” I ask.

Jack blinks, then slowly he nods. “I remember Collin texted me the morning after his first official date with Allison. He told me he didn’t want to jinx it, but he was pretty sure she was the one . I’ve never seen him fall so fast, or so hard.”

Jack’s words tunnel inside me, carving out new pathways in my brain.

All this time I’ve been concerned about Allison getting hurt. About minimizing damage. About protecting her. But I haven’t stopped to ask if she and Collin are actually good together. If they make each other happy. If this wedding and subsequent marriage is something worth saving.

The realization fills me with guilt. The kind that’s heavy in my gut.

When I look back at Jack, streaks of moonlight paint stripes across his face. His eyes hold mine, so delicately it’s like I’m made of glass. Like I could shatter at any moment.

“But is that enough?” I ask.

It’s the same question Collin had asked Jack. But it’s a fair one. I’d loved Carter. Just like Jack had loved Lexi, and my mom had loved my dad. But it hadn’t been enough. Because love isn’t always enough for things to work out. To make people stay.

Jack’s gaze softens, lips bowed in a tender crease before he says, “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, but I can tell you that no matter what, Allison is going to be okay. If I have to make a PowerPoint presentation reminding Collin of all the reasons he loves Allison, then I will. And if I have to smuggle Allison out of the castle on horseback myself, then I’ll do that too.” He pauses, swallowing. “I’m just trying to tell you that we’re in this together and I’ve got your back. I promise.”

Maybe it’s his words, or the determination with which he says them, but the tightly wound knot inside me loosens and suddenly I’m crying. Not cute, little tears, but full-on, bone-rattling sobs. The kind I can’t control.

Jack only lets a beat pass before he puts his arm around me, tucking my head under the crook of his chin. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers into my hair. “You’re okay.”

The tears come harder and faster, but his grip only tightens as his arms gather me against his chest.

A sliver of my brain is embarrassed for sobbing into his chest like this again. But there’s something about the way Jack’s holding me—about the gentle hand on my back—that makes me feel like it’s okay to cry. That I don’t have to be strong or capable or in control. That Jack’s arms are a safe place to fall apart. So I do. I cry and I cry until I’m not totally sure what I’m crying for anymore. Only that Jack feels too warm, too solid, too good, and I’m not ready to let go. Not yet.

Eventually I pull back, sniffing and wiping under my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I say.

He runs his thumb under my chin, wiping away a stray tear. “For what?”

“For crying. For being a mess. Again.” I gesture to myself.

Moonlight catches his eye, bringing lighter flecks of brown and caramel to the surface. “You don’t have to apologize,” he says. “You love your sister and it’s scary to think she might get hurt. I get it.”

I let his words wrap around me like a warm, weighted blanket as Jack tucks me back into his chest, where his skin is warm and his heart taps out comforting rhythms against mine.

“I think what scares me most is not being able to protect her,” I say after a minute. “That things with her and me will never go back to the way they were. That she’ll never be my best friend again.”

“You’re a good sister,” he says, stroking my hair. “And I don’t know how long it will take, but eventually you two will find your way back to one another.”

My eyes drift up, finding his. “You think so?” My voice comes out raw, like my vocal cords have been stripped down to their core.

“I know so.” Then he takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and for a minute we stay like that, pressed together like we’re each afraid the other might float away. It feels good. Not just the closeness, but knowing that I have someone who is looking out for me. Or maybe it’s just as Jack told my mom. Maybe we’re both looking out for one another.

A cool breeze catches my tearstained cheek and I shiver.

“Here.” Jack shrugs his way out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

It smells like him, tangy with a hint of sweetness, and I shiver again, but this time it’s not from the cold.

“My clothes look good on you,” he says. “Maybe you should have stolen my suitcase after all.”

“I wasn’t trying to steal your suitcase, it was just—”

“Bad luck?” he tries.

My cheeks warm despite the cool night air. “I was going to say good luck, actually.”

Jack’s jaw softens, a hint of smile creeping into his features. “I agree. It was good luck.”

Our gazes hold for a string of seconds, twin grins stretching across both of our faces until laugher and the low hum of voices drift through the door, reminding me that our presence is probably missed.

“You want to ditch the rest of the rehearsal dinner?” I ask.

His gaze skates toward the door then back to me. “I think they might notice if we’re gone.”

“Who cares,” I say, giving his arm a tug. “We’re in Ireland, let’s go to a pub or something. I promise to not throw up this time,” I add.

A husky laugh catches in the back of his throat. “You’re just trying to get out of meeting Stable Tom, aren’t you?”

My mouth quirks. “Maybe.”

“As appealing as that offer is, we’d better get back in there. They’re likely to notice if the best man and maid of honor are missing.”

I want to protest, to make this moment stretch just a little longer, but he’s giving me one of his dashing smiles that I find so hard to refuse. Damn him and his perfect dental hygiene.

“ Finnnneeee ,” I say. “But only because those mini sausage rolls were so good.”

“Those were good,” he agrees. “I had, like, twenty.”

“Same. Do you think I could fit some in my purse for later?”

Jack smiles at me, his eyes crinkling. “Only if you get some for me too.”

“Deal.”

As we walk back inside, I find it harder and harder to ignore the tug in my chest, the ache of want, burning bright and electric inside me.

I ought to pack it away, shove it into the dark corner of my mind where I store song lyrics and random facts about celebrities. But my feelings for him feel too large, too overwhelming. Like a massive tsunami building in the distance, one whose force I can’t outrun. All I can do is shelter in place and brace for impact.