3. Hannah
HANNAH
I woke with the distinct sense that I'd made a series of regrettable decisions.
Sunlight sliced through the cabin curtains like a personal attack. My mouth tasted like I'd been chewing cardboard, and my head throbbed in time with my pulse.
I reached for my phone and squinted at the screen.
A long text conversation stared back at me. I remembered asking Everett to come to the wedding. Remembered the relief that flooded through me when he'd agreed.
I didn’t remember the full extent of whatever else I'd said.
I scrolled up slightly, saw something about crying in public and possibly murdering James, and immediately locked my phone again.
No. I refused to reread drunk Hannah's complete emotional breakdown. Everett had already witnessed it. That was humiliation enough.
At least he'd said yes. That was the part that mattered. I wouldn't have to face James alone.
My phone rang.
Everett's name appeared on the screen, and I answered immediately. "Thank you for agreeing to come. I know it's last minute and?—"
"Hannah." His tone made my stomach drop. "I can't make it."
I sat up too fast and regretted it. "What?"
"I'm so sorry. I’ve got a meeting I can't get out of."
"You said you'd be here." The words came out smaller than I meant them to.
"I said I'd make sure you weren't handling this alone. That part still stands."
That wasn't the same thing, but I'd been too drunk to notice the distinction last night.
"Everett, I asked you specifically because?—"
"Grim's coming instead."
I blinked. "Grim?”
"He'll keep James away from you. Trust me, nobody's going to mess with you if Grim's standing next to you."
My brain struggled to process this new information. "You told him?"
"Yeah. You can count on him. He's the one person I trust not to make the whole situation worse for you.”
I wanted to argue that Grim barely tolerated me, but Everett sounded pretty sure. "He agreed to this?"
"He did." Everett clearly believed this solved everything.
I thanked him, ended the call, and stared at the wall.
Grim, also known as Evan Benson, was attending Lyra's wedding as my date.
The same Grim who'd spent years treating me like an inconvenient younger sister. The one who answered my questions in single syllables and looked perpetually annoyed whenever I entered a room.
I dropped my face into my hands and groaned.
By the time I showered, downed two glasses of water, and swallowed a couple of ibuprofen tablets, I’d started to feel better. At least until I tried to decide what to wear.
James had always preferred me in neutral colors. Tasteful, he'd called it. Understated.
I pulled a navy dress from my suitcase, then shoved it back inside. Screw James.
I picked up a bright coral wrap dress instead. It hugged my curves, showed off my legs, and made me feel like the version of myself I'd been before James convinced me I was too much… too loud, too colorful, and too emotional.
And maybe I wanted to look pretty for Grim. I’d always had a huge crush on him. I'd followed him around during family gatherings, invented reasons to visit Everett when I knew Grim would be there, and tried way too hard to make him laugh.
He'd responded with silence, grunts, and a flat expression that suggested he found me more annoying than adorable. Eventually, I'd accepted the harsh truth that he thought I was irritating and moved on.
That crush had been over for years. Mostly over.
I heard his motorcycle before I saw him. The low rumble made me glance out the window, and sent my heart into somersaults inside my chest.
Grim climbed off the bike wearing a gorgeous black suit. The jacket stretched across his broad shoulders. He'd combed his dark hair back and trimmed his beard down to something almost formal.
The tattoos on his hands and wrists crawled up under the white cuffs of his shirt. He stood next to the Harley with one hand on the tank, backlit by the August sun.
I forgot what I'd been about to think.
He shouldn't have looked this good.
I met him outside before I backed out.
"You didn't have to do this," I said. "Everett shouldn't have dragged you into my mess."
"He didn't."
I frowned. "But he called you and?—"
"You needed help.”
Something in my chest did a slow half-turn. He was watching me the way I'd seen him watch machines when he was diagnosing them — quiet, patient, waiting to see what I'd do with the information.
I did what I always did with things I didn't want to look at directly. I moved past it.
"Right," I said. “Please tell me he didn’t forward all of my messages."
Grim's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes that I couldn't quite read.
"You asked me to prevent public crying, murder, and humiliation." His voice was dry. "That's a lot of responsibility for one weekend."
Heat flooded my face. "Oh my god. He showed you everything?"
"You also demanded a dance."
"I was drunk."
"Doesn't make it less binding."
I stared at him. Was Grim Benson making a joke?
He handed me a bottle of water and a small packet of pain relievers.
"You look like you need these."
"I'm fine."
"You're hungover."
I took the water. "Thank you."
"It's practical. Can't keep you from crying in public if you're dehydrated."
"I don't cry in public."
"Then my job's already easier."
We arrived at Willow Bend Ranch together. It was a newly restored homestead where every Broken Bend bride wanted to get married eventually. Live oaks. Long porches. String lights someone had already threaded through the branches for that evening.
Lyra spotted us immediately, and her eyebrows rose when she saw Grim walking next to me.
"You brought Grim?"
"Everett sent him."
"Oh." Relief crossed her face. "That's good. I'm glad you're not alone."
The tension between us hadn't disappeared, but she seemed genuinely happy I had backup.
I didn't mention that I'd asked Everett first or that this entire arrangement resulted from my drunken panic.
Lyra glanced at Grim. "Thank you for coming."
He nodded once. "Congratulations."
She smiled and moved on to greet other guests.
It didn’t take more than five minutes for James to find me. He approached with the polished confidence I used to find charming and now recognized as condescension wrapped in expensive cologne.
"Hannah. I wasn't sure you'd actually come."
The comment landed exactly how he'd intended. Casual. Slightly surprised. Suggesting that my presence required courage or special effort.
My ribs contracted on the next breath, like my body remembered what it felt like to make myself smaller before my brain did. The bright colored dress I had on suddenly seemed too loud. I tried to hide my hands behind my back, in pockets I didn't have, anywhere where they’d be less visible.
I was shrinking. I could feel it happening in real time and I didn't know how to stop it.
Then Grim stepped closer. He didn't speak. Didn't threaten. Just placed his hand at the small of my back.
The pressure was slight but deliberate enough to remind me where the floor was and that my feet were still on it.
I straightened. "Of course I came. Lyra's my best friend."
James's gaze shifted to Grim. "I don't think we've met."
"Evan Benson." Grim's voice was calm. "I'm here with Hannah."
James's expression changed immediately. "You're dating?"
I hesitated. Grim's hand remained steady against my back, and I realized that allowing James to believe we were together gave me the breathing room I desperately needed.
“Yeah.” Grim stared at James, daring him to doubt the lie.
“Hannah never mentioned it.”
"We don't discuss my personal life anymore," I said. "Remember?"
The words felt like reclaiming something I'd surrendered.
James's jaw tightened briefly before his polished mask returned. “Right. Well. Good to meet you, Evan."
He walked away.
I exhaled slowly. Grim's hand dropped from my back, but I could still feel where his hand had been. Needing a few minutes to myself, I excused myself to go to the restroom and pulled out my phone to text my brother.
Me: I can’t believe Grim just let James think we’re dating.
Across the room, Grim checked his phone.
A moment later, my phone buzzed.
Everett: You wanted back up.
I frowned. Of course Everett was reminding me that I'd requested help.
Me: Moral support isn’t the same as a fake boyfriend.
His reply came quickly.
Everett: Did it work?
I glanced across the room and saw Grim looking at his phone, but half the guests were checking messages. Wedding weekends meant constant coordination.
I typed one more message.
Me: He looks way too pleased with himself.
The response appeared almost immediately.
Everett: He probably is.
I smiled despite myself.
When I returned, Grim met my eyes.
"You're welcome."
I stopped. "Did Everett just tell you I complained about you?"
"Something like that."
"Do you two share all of my texts?”
"Not every one."
The answer should have reassured me. Instead, it made me wonder what else they’d discussed before Grim agreed to come.
Grim offered his arm. "Ready?"
I took it. My hand fit against his forearm like it belonged there. That could end up being a problem if I let it.