The ones I’m most certain were taken down on the private beach beneath the palm trees I had chosen. I mean why not, right? Good thing for them this island has a pretty moderate temperature all year-round or God forbid with the change of seasons, Rebound Sarah might have had to make a decision on her own.
I’m not oblivious to the constant whispers that stop when I walk by and then start again or the sly glances of the women who all think they’re better than me. But I do have to admit they sure as hell do a double take when they see Hayes’s hand on my waist or how he pulls out my chair for me. I force myself to meet their eyes despite the unease rioting through me, knowing they are talking about and turning their noses down at me.
Confidence, Ships, a constant refrain off Hayes’s tongue.
But I’m still on edge. Still waiting for security to show up and tell me I need to leave because I wasn’t invited, and that’s why I have the invitation tucked inside Hayes’s suit jacket pocket. Just in case. And still in shock over seeing my meticulous preparations come to life before me and not actually be for me.
“I’m just thinking,” I say quietly and look around once again at the centerpieces and linens and room setup.
“About?”
“About how Uptight Ursula sold this to Rebound Sarah. I mean, did she tell her the hotel offered a package deal where everything was already decided . . . and Sarah just went along with it?” What sort of woman happily accepts a wedding completely organized for a different bride? By a different bride. “Or was Sarah just so love-struck that she agreed to anything his mom wanted just to smooth over the waters because she can already tell what a controlling bitch she is?”
“Mmm.” He nods his head before pressing a kiss to my temple. And I love the gesture, the feeling it gives me, but hate that I immediately wonder if it’s for show or because he wants to do it. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“I mean as stupid as I now feel about allowing it to happen, I can stomach the similarities in our wedding dresses. Hell, even I had a weak moment and succumbed to Mrs. Layton’s relentless ramblings about how very special it would be for me to wear a modern-day version of the dress she’d married Mitch’s dad in. She had a designer bring in a couple of racks full of similar-looking dresses for me to choose from. And I did. And it was gorgeous. But that’s where I drew the line in giving in to her demands.”
Another murmur of acknowledgement from Hayes followed by a kiss to my temple.
And I love that he’s letting me ramble on and get it all out. That he’s giving me the elbows in the batter feeling I need and yet I’m nowhere near a kitchen or mixer.
The man really gets me.
I look his way to see his sudden interest in the room around us. “Something wrong?”
“Nah. There’s just an all-round weird vibe here . . . but it’s not our wedding, so who are we to judge?”
Not our wedding. I know he doesn’t mean the words how I hear them, but it makes me pause for a moment. Ideas and images flicker through my mind of what our wedding would look like. Simplicity over grandeur. In the field under the tree house with shabby chic décor and mason jars with tea lights in them for mood.
“Ships?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” My cheeks heat at getting caught thinking things I shouldn’t be thinking. “The weird vibe? It’s probably just because we’re here.”
“Nah. Don’t look now, but I think it has to do with Mitch’s mom over there shooting daggers at you while you’re sitting over here with a drink in your hand and a smile on your face. I definitely don’t think Mitch told her they invited you.”
“But she had to have known. This is an all-inclusive resort. It’s not like we’ve been hiding in the villa the whole time.”
“Maybe she’s just a bitch,” he muses as he tips the bottle of beer to his mouth with a half-cocked smirk on his lips that tugs on places deep within me.
I snort in response. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You’re incredible.” Two words. That’s all they are. But the way he says them with a mixture of conviction, awe, and reverence, and with a completely serious look on his face as he holds my eyes captive, causes my heart to stutter a beat in my chest.
“And you’re ridiculous.” But I can’t help my smile from growing to epic proportions. You’re incredible. I try to laugh off my unease from the compliment but he won’t have any of it.
“No, I’m serious.” He leans in close, mouth skimming over my ear. His voice is low, just a whisper of a sound so that even surrounded by the hundred or so guests, only I can hear him. “Not many women would have the guts to show up here today. And if they did, not many people would know that it has absolutely zero to do with you. It has to do with your business. With not wanting to let Ryder down. I’m proud of you, Ships. Proud of you for walking in here with your head held high and a sincere smile on your face, when I know under your breath you’re cursing at many of them.”