Page 41 of Bridesmaid to Bride

“Hmm.” Skye puts a finger on her lip.

West leans in, squinting at his name linked to Paige’s with a green thread. “And why am I a suspect?” He’s way too loud. Or am I hungover?

Oh, yes. Last night was debauchery and a raging hot hookup. How could I forget?

Skye sighs. “Because, loverboy, you were once part of the reality TV dating pool for Paige’s affections. That puts you in the hot seat.”

“Christ. That mistake is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.” West pets Balls’s ears, and the dog looks to be in pure bliss, his tongue hanging out sideways.

“Try eternity.” Skye waves her hand.

Shaking my head, I focus on the task at hand. “Okay, what about the others?” My eyes glide over the tangled web of connections.

“Olivia’s out.” Skye flicks at a yellow note with her name crossed out. “She’s too busy bouncing on top of the camera guy.”

“How do you know about that?” The blood drains from my face. This means she might know about West and me too.

A wicked grin spreads across her face. “I know things, that’s how. I also know about you two’s little closet rendezvous, so don’t even bother lying about it. And congratulations.”

“Oh, God.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Skye’s smile grows. “That was wayyy overdue—”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” West cuts in.

“Sure.” Skye drums her fingers on a particular Post-It. “Brielle—Zach’s old college buddy. Someone you both know.”

“Another scorned lover from the past?” West says.

“Close. A one-night wonder.” Skye narrows her eyes at the photo clipped beneath Brielle’s name.

I throw up a finger. “Oh, they were having a little bit too much fun together last night.” My eyes are wide. “And, man, Zach is one horny dude.”

“Oh, yeah.” Skye bats a hand. “He has raunchy sex with your sister. Did you know they have a position called the pound-town pretzel?”

“Please don’t tell me that, Skye!” I scream.

West’s face pinches, and he throws his hands up. “Great. I’ll never look at that dude the same again.” Balls lets out a bark.

“He’d put his dick in Swiss cheese.” I burst into laughter, and West joins me.

“Laugh it up, chuckles,” Skye says, smiling too. “But keep your eyes peeled. That dick left a trail of wreckage in its wake. When I cornered Brielle, she said their encounter was in grad school six years ago.” Then Skye opens out a folder that’s sitting on the coffee table and hesitates, like she’s got a bombshell to drop. “Brielle has a daughter.”

“Oh, wow.” West maneuvers around Balls to lean in and look at the photo.

“No way,” I whisper.

“Okay, and?” West prompts.

Skye lifts her chin. “And, I hesitate to say this because I want to deal in fact, not gossip, but this little girl—cherub cheeks, curly pigtails—is the spitting image of Zach as a kid.” Skye picks up the picture of Brielle and the girl and holds it next to the “Brielle” Post-It on the wall. “And she’s five years old.”

“The plot thickens.” West sighs.

“Wait! Zach has a kid? Oh, God no.” I close my eyes. “Please no. This is not news to drop on a televised groom two days before a wedding. But Paige deserves to know.”

“She does.” West is staring at the wall. “And what if Zach doesn’t even know?”

“Paige doesn’t know!” I cut in, not able to move past that point.

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