Page 90 of The Trouble with Runaway Brides

I kiss her, then walk to my truck, leaving her in the gazebo. I say goodbye to Easton, Brinley, and Van, who are huddled together outside the diner. Kenzie walks toward them, and I can’t get the feeling of unease out of my gut. But I push it down and get in my truck.

I wave at them and drive toward our house, but I just can’t do it. Something in me, some gut instinct, tells me there’s more going on than I know about. So I pull into the parking lot of the crab restaurant on the outside of town, park between two big trucks to hide my vehicle, and wait to see if they come this way.

Five minutes later, Kenzie drives by with Easton right behind her in his truck.

“What the fuck!” I slam my hand on my steering wheel.

Don’t do it. Trust them. Don’t fucking ruin this because you’re insecure, asshole.

But after two more cars go past, I pull out behind them. I keep my distance, but thankfully almost everyone around us owns trucks. The only thing unique about mine is that it’s older than the others.

Kenzie turns and heads back toward the lake, which I don’t understand. It’s as if they’re going out of their way to make people think they’re going somewhere else. Easton is right on her ass the entire time and if I wasn’t trying to be incognito, I’d fucking call him and tell him if he rear-ends her, I’m going to kick his ass.

Another left turn and she’s heading right back where they came from. She winds around, and it’s then I realize she’s heading toward Glacier Point. But why would she go there? They’d be caught in a second.

I stay back, hidden by the trees. They park next to one another at the resort and file out of their vehicles. She shoves him and he laughs as they walk through the sliding doors.

I inch my truck up and try to see through the windows. No way they’re going to the restaurant—we just ate. Neither of them has their stuff to go skiing or snowboarding. I back my truck in, trying to camouflage myself enough so I don’t stand out.

I have a great view of the lobby and I see that they have bags now, suitcases I didn’t see them carry in. They press the elevator button. When it arrives, Easton lets Kenzie go first and follows her in. They’re still grinning ear to ear.

I run my hand down my face and blow out a breath.

Fuck it. I might look like a lunatic, but there’s no way I can sit here and wait for them to come out.

I turn off the ignition, climb out of my truck, and walk across the parking lot. I enter the lobby and I’m about to head to the reception desk when the elevator doors open and my mom steps out.

“Lance?” she says, but there’s no element of surprise on her face. “Guess this saves me having to text you and tell you I need to meet with you.” She’s wearing a pantsuit, which is way dressier than normal. Plus, she doesn’t hang around Glacier Point, so I’m guessing she and my dad have something together.

But whatever, I have more important things to do.

“I’m busy,” I say and continue toward the desk.

“You are, but with me.” She scurries across the lobby and grabs my arm, guiding me toward the hall that leads to the event rooms.

“Mom, Kenzie and Easton are upstairs together, and I need to figure out why.”

“First, I need a word with you.” She pats my arm, stops at my dad’s office door, and opens it.

My dad is on the couch, dressed in his usual suit. He’s relaxed with one leg crossed, reading some paperwork. He takes off his reading glasses, throws the papers on the table, and sets his glasses on top. “Have a seat, son.”

“I can’t. I’ll be right back.”

He sits up straighter. “Have a seat, son.”

Even though I’m grown, I still know to obey him when he uses that tone, so I sit on the couch, frustrated that whatever they want to chat about is keeping me from figuring out what’s going on.

My mom sits next to me and takes my hand. “I’m doing you a favor. I’m stopping you before you make a fool of yourself.”

“I’m not making a fool of myself. My cousin and girlfriend are in a hotel together. Your hotel.” I point at my dad. “And we’re here having some talk.” I move to stand, but my dad puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Do you really think they’re having an affair?” my dad asks.

I bury my head in my hands. “Deep down, no, but something’s off. They’re here.”

They nod at each other, and my mom says, “I was so happy when your aunt Holly, aunt Savannah, and I all had you three around the same time. The Bailey Triplets and you three were, I swear, talking to each other from your wombs because after you all came out, the three of you would be so calm when you were all together. You guys were the best of friends from the start, and since I never gave you a sibling—”

“We,” my dad interrupts.

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