Page 26 of Wedding Wrecker

Kayla’s smile ghosts over her red lips. “You like him.”

I balk at this accusation. “No, I don’t.”

She breathes in a lungful of air and starts fanning herself. “Oh my god! You really do like him. And it makes so much sense. You almost married Kayla, and now you’re so into Kyle you can’t bear to see him getting married to someone else. Wow. I did not see this one coming. I guess we’ll have a poetic ending after all.” She giggles. She actually giggles in my face.

“He’s a misguided gay boy who doesn’t know what he wants, a cheater, my cousin’s groom-to-be, and an all-around mess. Why on earth would I like him?”

Kayla points to the wedding party where Madison sits in the grass, Holden is taking photos, and Kyle has to contort his body to hold the umbrella at the right angle.

“I don’t know. That ass?”

I groan, unable to look away. “Either way, I’m not looking for a relationship. Especially not in Texas, and especially not with him.”

“But somehow you still think he’s the one more likely to suffer if they married, not Madison. Curious,” Kayla says with a mysterious smile and keeps strutting through the gardens.

I think back to that vulnerable, hurt look he was giving me yesterday over steak, and I can’t help but want to protect him from the turmoil that Madison would inevitably bring into his life. It could take him years to end the marriage and leave him even more lost in his sexuality.

“No, this is for Madison’s sake,” I say, but even I don’t believe this lie. “He will cheat again sooner or later. This is to save her, so let’s keep brainstorming.” I snap my fingers in frustration.

Kayla spins around to face me. “We could stain both of her dresses. I can tell you for a fact that she will not get married in just anything. It needs to be a pearl-white ball gown with a tulle skirt, she told that to anyone who would listen last night. But that will be an expensive way to stop your boy Kyle from getting hitched.”

I ignore her saying Kyle is mine and focus on the serious part. “Expensive for who? She can’t force me to pay for it if she doesn’t know I stained them.”

“Ooh… you want to sneak into the bridal suite? Living on the edge, Logan. It reminds me of that time we shoplifted four bottles of vodka back in high school.”

It had been a glorious day, even though it landed us both in detention.

“Ann should have the key.”

“She should,” Kayla agrees before opening her small, beaded purse to produce a key. “But I have one too. Madison fired her makeup artist yesterday and asked me to do her face instead.”

I look to the sky, and the sun smiles back at me.

“Let’s go while they’re here,” I say and lead the way toward the hotel with my heart in my throat. This has to work.

“There should be some wine in the bridal suite. She likes her reds a lot,” Kayla tells me, marching forward like a woman on a mission. I have to jog to catch up with her.

“Cameras?”

“They can’t be everywhere. Although I doubt they’ll look through footage in order to find out who spilled the wine on a dress. That’s just silly.”

“Kayla?”

She turns back with raised eyebrows but never stops walking. “Hm?”

“Are we the villains?”

Kayla frowns. “Nooo! We’re doing what’s right. Kyle’s a cheater, and Madison is a privileged bridezilla with too much money to burn. She’ll just ask Daddy for another dress. Do you know she ordered the staff to remove the ducks from the pond because she feared they might poop on her? We are not the villains.”

I’m not so sure, but since none of us came up with a better idea, I try to look inconspicuous as we make our way through the hotel.

The bridal suite is at the very end of the hallway on the second floor, and I’m stressed out of my mind by the time we reach it. But Kayla, who’s an approved guest, seems light on her feet and doesn’t even knock before opening the door. She only calls out to check whether the coast is clear once she sticks her head in.

Madison and her bridesmaids are still out.

The two dresses are draped on dressmaker’s mannequins in the corner of the large room, next to a satin-upholstered daybed. Both are works of art, but Kyle’s future is more important. And if Madison knew why I was doing this, that it's for her own good, wouldn’t she be grateful?

“Okay, where’s the wine…” I mutter.