Page 10 of Wedding Wrecker

It’s not his suit that startles me. Neither is it the fact that he’s handsome, or that his smile is warm as sunshine.

No. My heart goes into overdrive, sending boiling blood all over my body because my cousin Madison’s future husband is the guy who I fucked in the hay less than twenty-four hours ago.

I can still hear his moans in my ears, and his smell is vivid in my memory.

Motherfucker.

As if to make this fiasco even worse, Jude leans his bald head closer with a smile. “That’s my brother.” He points toward Kyle.

I think I’m gonna throw up.

It’s a personal rule for me that I don’t fuck other people’s partners, let alone spouses. I’ve been in open relationships, hell, I’ve had a threesome with a couple, but cheating is where I draw the line, and I hate liars with a passion.

I want to go up to him and throw my drink in his cute fucking face. If he thinks I’m gonna let this slide, he has another thing coming.

Kyle can’t easily notice me at the back of the room, so as the clapping dies down, I make a point of standing for a moment longer and toast his way with a whistle.

His eyes glide over me as I sit down, but then they’re glued to me like there’s no one else in the room.

Yes, fucker. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Chapter 4

Logan

I’m seething.

I’m seething at dinner, I’m seething at drinks, I’m even seething as I eat the best tiramisu of my life.

It can’t sweeten the shitcake Kyle has served me.

I find it hard to be a good conversation partner, and every now and then, I steal a glance at the groom, who appears so happy with his bride-to-be.

Unaware of her fiancé’s cheating, Madison is a beaming, bubbly princess, in her element at the party. My sister is a very pretty girl, but Madison could be a cover girl for a celebrity gossip website. She’s blonde, tall, has a lovely updo, the perfect figure and lips enhanced so subtly with filler that no one could tell without being informed. I only know she’s had them done because Ann told me.

But despite her beauty, she’s prissy, demanding, and always wants things her way. As her cousin, I’ve learned that the hard way when I stayed with her family one summer in my teens. She made me wash her horse for two months under the threat of telling her dad I was spying on her in the shower. Which I was not. I’m not a saint, but I’d never cross that line.

But it is her party, so I do whatever is demanded of me. When the guests are ushered into the gardens surrounding a large pool with an island in the middle, I go with the crowd. There’s no point in retreating to my room just yet. Not when I can continue making the groom uncomfortable.

His gaze strays my way at times, but when he and Madison stop to discuss something with a guy from the camera crew, I head past them and grab a cocktail from the pool bar. It might be dark, but the air remains warm, so I end up leaning against a random freestanding column and watching a smartly dressed man sit behind a grand piano in a gazebo nearby.

“Logan. I thought I saw you around,” I hear a female voice slurring from a bit too close, and when I turn, I spot Aunt Patty.

She has a bit of an obsession with ‘clean eating’ so I’m surprised to see the drink in her hand and the flush on her face visible even from under heavy makeup. Her tight satin dress accentuates every curve on her body from overinflated breasts to the rather shapely hips, but I don’t like how close she’s standing. We might not be blood relatives, but she’s seen me in diapers.

“Enjoying the evening?” I ask casually, even though I’m not in the mood. Not after finding out who the groom is, and not after spending half the evening next to the woman who left me hanging right before our wedding.

She exhales, leaning against the column, so close to me her shoulder touches mine. I bite the inside of my cheek and pull away to stand in front of her. She’s had too much booze already, and the night is still young.

Her chest deflates, and when she cozies up to the column, I realize she made me uncomfortable on purpose, to replace me in the picturesque spot. “I think you and I both know how little value promises of commitment have in today’s world,” she says and casts a glance to where I spotted Uncle Jacob and Garland earlier.

I take a deep breath. So this is the kind of conversation she wants. Fine. I can indulge her for a bit as my own gaze strays to Kayla’s back. She’s taken off her heels and sits alone by the pool, dipping her feet into the water. I don’t have feelings for her anymore, and it’s a strange realization. I don’t even hate her. The past hurt feels like an old bruise in comparison to my fresh anger at Kyle Hone.

“I’m not getting married any time soon,” I say and take a sip of whisky.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it,” Aunt Patty says, crossing her arms to make her chest seem more pronounced. I get the sense she’s on the hunt and using me as a wingman of sorts, or rather, bait thrown around the fishing hook. She is an attractive woman and doesn’t need it, but aren’t all people lured by a sense of competition?

Because… she wouldn’t be hitting on me, would she? I know I’m a hot guy, but come on.