Page 98 of Special Delivery

“We trust you,” Jordan blurts out, shocking both Emma and me. “We know this is different. We’ve known Kim is different since day one. We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

His mouth forms a soft smile. “Living and loving and getting hurt is much better than not living and loving at all.” His gaze lands on me for a second too long, and goosebumps rise on my skin. “You’re my greatest pride. I love you.”

He lifts his glass, and the three of us do the same, while I swallow back tears. We clink our glasses before tipping them back. The whiskey burns its way down my throat, clearing the lump that was lodged there.

Dad checks his watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get married.” His mouth hooks into a smile, and my chest inflates.

I help him tie his bow tie, while Emma fixes his tux, and Jordan handles any rebellious hair strands.

“We’ll see you soon,” I say as we exit the cigar room.

Emma and Jordan head to the bathroom, and I set out to find our spots in the garden. As one foot steps into the living room, a figure appears from behind the corner, running straight into me.

“Sorry,” he says, and the familiar voice stops me in my tracks. “Paige… hi.”

With a deep breath to collect myself, I lift my gaze. Not even a hundred deep breaths could prepare me for how devastating he looks in his tux. His beard is neatly trimmed, his hair styled, and the tux showcases his tall frame and wide shoulders before tapering at his waist. I suppress a groan.

“Hi.”

“Wow…you look amazing.”

I look down at my dress to hide the blush rising in my cheeks. “Thank you. The dress is beautiful.” I fell in love with it the first time I’ve seen it. The baby blue satin fabric is elegant and graceful, and it’s super flattering, gathered at the chest and stomach before falling smoothly to the floor.

“I wasn’t talking about the dress.”

My mouth parts on an ‘oh,’ my body’s reaction to his words visceral. In less than a second, my nipples harden and wetness pools in my core. It would be so easy to forget why the two of us are a bad idea, but I need to be smarter than that. I’m glad Dad found someone who makes him happy, yet it doesn’t mean love is meant for me.

“I need to find my seat,” I respond politely.

“Of course. I’ll see you later.” He places a large hand on my upper arm, and his touch burns through my skin.

Finally, I exit the house and inhale sharply. The typically manicured, but empty backyard is now fully decorated for an outdoor wedding. To the right, there’s a large white tent, with string lights hanging underneath the ceiling. To the left, there’s a gorgeous arbor made entirely out of white peonies. The aisle adorned with white rose petals separates the rows of wooden chairs decorated with ivory tulle bows.

Brenda—the maid of honor—waves at me while Dad’s oldest colleague and best man smiles. He started the company with our dad and probably holds the record for the most experienced best man, considering he’s held the spot at five weddings with the same groom. The mood is intimate and cozy, with only their closest friends and family filling the rows, and no bridesmaids or groomsmen keeping them company. Jordan and Emma soon join me, and we find our spots in the first row.

Throughout the ceremony, I barely maintain my composure. Even though it’s wedding number five for our dad, this one is special. It’s obvious in the way the bride and groom stare at one another as if they see the world in each other’s eyes. Moisture forms in the corners of my own as I stare in awe at the two people declaring their love to one another. They’ve both experienced their own fair share of hurt, but here they are, ready to dive in headfirst again. An ache starts in my chest, as regret takes its form in the pit of my belly. Still, I’m happy for them and clap louder than everyone else when the officiant pronounces them husband and wife.

The seating arrangement sabotages my plan of avoiding Ryan. Like a replay of the Bahamas, Jordan, Emma, Ryan, and I are sharing a space, only this time it’s the family table at the reception. I try to hide behind the tall vases adorned with white peonies, but his broad shoulders are somehow always in my line of vision.

The only reprieve I get is when Dad serenades Kim with a horrible rendition of Fly Me to the Moon on the piano. The man has never played the piano before, but apparently he’s been taking lessons ever since he asked her to marry him. We all swoon at the gesture, regardless of the missed chords and off-key singing.

The DJ takes over after him, inviting us all to the podium. I’m three drinks in when my twin betrays me by getting up to dance with her wife, leaving me alone with Ryan.

I keep my gaze on the dance floor to avoid looking at his perfect form, but he slides into the chair next to me. A relieved breath escapes me when two other people join us at the table.

The mustached one speaks first, and my relief quickly vanishes. “You must be Paige, the stepsister.” His smirk makes him devastatingly handsome, his dark brown eyes gleaming underneath thick eyebrows.

“And you must be Parker,” I respond. Surprise crosses his features, and I pump a fist internally.

“Come on, Parker. Don’t tease her. I’m Wes, by the way.” He puts out his hand for me to shake, and I take it. Wes is just as handsome as Parker, but in a more nerdy, wholesome way.

“Nice to meet you, Wes.”

“Your mom looks amazing, man. And she seems really happy.” This time, Parker’s tone sounds honest.

“Yeah, I think she is.” Ryan flashes a sincere smile, shooting me a quick glance that pierces straight to my chest.

A young girl in a peach-colored dress and white ballet flats skips to our table. “Daddy, can I go dance?”