Page 13 of The First Best Man

Damn.

Kate Reid is perfect, but also off-limits. As much as I wanted to kiss her last night––and still do, in addition to other things––I can’t. There are so many red flags with the whole situation, I can’t ignore them with a clear conscience.

It’s Penny and Logan’s wedding. Sleeping with Kate could, and probablywould, upset Penny. I know she likes me, but I also know she isn’t unaware of my track record with women. I have no desire to settle down at this point in my life, and I rarely commit to more than a single night with a woman. Penny doesn’t hold it against me, but there’s no way she wants that for her best friend. Her worry was obvious when Kate and I “met” today, and she realized I’m the guy Kate hung out with at the Grill last night.

And knowing Kate must’ve at the very least implied she was attracted to me, too, to garner such a reaction from Penny? But I digress.

The second and less important reason I can’t go there is Logan’s sister. Blaine has made it obvious over the years that she wants me despite my many attempts to ward her off, and if I show any romantic interest in Kate, I have no doubt sparks will fly. And it’s not that I don’t think Kate can handle Blaine. I’m sure she can and has had tons of practice, being so close to the family. But I have no doubt Blaine would cause trouble, and that’s not something Penny and Logan need while we’re trying to celebrate their upcoming nuptials.

So, until the wedding is a fait accompli, I will be on my best behavior as far as Kate is concerned.

My breathing stutters at the thought. The wedding is in six days, on Sunday. But after that?

I slide my gaze to the left, taking in Kate’s profile as she drives the golf cart down the narrow road with a smile.

After that, the big event will be over, and anything that may or may not happen between Kate and me can’t affect it anymore. It’s a plan worth considering, at the very least. If things go well between us this week, I’ll ask her out for a post-wedding drink and see where it goes from there.

“Hey, can you read me the list again?” she asks suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I reply, digging the slip of paper out of my pants pocket. Unfolding it, I scan the list again before reading it aloud. “Number one. Whether you like the muffin or the scone, come to the place my wife and I own.”

“Bruno,” she cuts in without taking her eyes off the road. “He owns the market, and his wife runs a small bakery inside. Too easy. What’s next?”

“Number two,” I say. “Head east, but don’t go all the way to the sea. This beautiful island was named after me.”

“Got it,” she says, and I blink my eyes in confusion.

“What is Bush Monkey Isle actually named for?”

She dips her chin and looks at me like I’m an idiot, saying, “It’s right there in the name.”

I look back down at the clue before meeting her eyes again, my expression mirroring my incredulity. “Bush monkeys? Like…actualmonkeys that live in bushes?”

“They’re fairly harmless,” she says with a casualshrug. “We should be able to get close enough to one to take a picture with no problem. Just don’t try to pet one, or anything. They’re wild animals.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” pops out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I mean, this is technically California, and there aren’t any monkeys in this part of the country. At least, not that I’m aware of. And don’t monkeys live in trees? In the tropics?”

“That’s their natural habitat, yes. The bush monkeys here are an invasive species. A hundred years ago, a cargo ship carrying zoo animals sunk off the coast of San Diego, and the monkeys escaped their cages, swam here, and started multiplying.”

“Now, I know you’re shitting me,” I say, and she looks over at me with wide eyes.

“No lie. Look,” she says, then stretches her right arm in my direction.

The otherwise unblemished skin of her wrist is marred by three silvery lines. Thin and equidistant, almost faded like they were acquired many years ago.

“I got too close,” she says, pulling her arm back and gripping the steering wheel. “This little guy seemed friendly, and I tried to offer him some fruit. He thanked me with a swipe of his claws. Thank God he wasn’t carrying any diseases that could’ve taken me out.”

I watch her as she keeps her eyes peeled, scanning each side of the road as we leave town and head out into an uninhabited section of the island. My heartrate picks up as I, too, start searching every bush we pass, looking for movement or a hint of fur.

“Here we go,” she says suddenly, then yanks the wheel to steer the cart off to the side of the road. Thenshe meets my eyes. “Remember, stay vigilant. And have your phone ready. Those little suckers are fast.”

She climbs out of the cart and starts peering into the nearest bush while I remain sitting, debating whether or not a free dinner is worth the risk of searching the bushes for obviously dangerous wild animals.

Why would the crew of the Grill even put this on the list?Damn sadists.

Kate’s moving farther away, and there’s no way I can let her go out there on her own, risking another attack. Sliding off the bench seat, I move quickly until I’m right beside her. She keeps her eyes to the left, so I keep mine to the right.

“Oh, shit!” Kate shouts suddenly, and I nearly jump out of my skin as a shriek that would make an eleven-year-old girl proud erupts from my lips. Then she looks at me with a sheepish expression, saying, “Sorry. False alarm. It was a squirrel.”

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