Page 128 of Surprisingly Us

“How’s wedding planning going?” I ask. It’s not typically a male topic, but after shopping with Lettie yesterday for the event, it’s what’s on my mind.

“Sophie’s taken on the majority of it, but I’ve been helping where I can.” He chuckles. “Where she’llallowme to.”

I think back to me and Lettie’s conversation yesterday about her wedding.

Barefoot on the beach.

The moment she’d said those words, I could imagine her there. White flowing gown fitted in all the right places; dark hair pinned back loosely as the ocean breeze blew through it. Bouquet of tropical flowers in her hand as she made her way down the aisle to me.

The vision in my head had evaporated when she made the comment that as her ex-fiancé, I likely wouldn’t even be invited. It was like a punch to the stomach.

He reaches for the corkscrew, then pauses to look at me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

He nods. “I saw the article about Jerrod and Corinne, and the board voting in a new president for The Spencer Foundation. I didn’t realize you and Jerrod would be competing for the position.” I watch as he effortlessly pulls out the wine cork, then pours two glasses of the pinot. “That’s got to be challenging for your relationship.”

I try to keep my laugh light, but it comes out sardonically. “It’s exactly on par for our relationship. We’ve been competing since we were kids.”

Hunter considers this. “I don’t know much about the inner workings of a foundation like your family’s but if you ever need to talk, let me know.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

I expect him to hand me one of the glasses but he leaves them on the counter, opens the refrigerator, and hands me a seltzer water from inside.

I stare at it confused, before following him into the living room.

There, we find Lettie on the floor, legs wide as she lifts a giggling baby up in the air. Heels click down the hallway and Hunter’s fiancée, Sophie, appears in a black cocktail dress. I look back at Lettie in leggings and a tank top. Did she not get the dress code for this dinner?

“Rhys, good to see you again.” Sophie pulls me in for a hug.

“Yeah, thank you for having us.”

She laughs. “We’ll see how you feel at the end of the night.”

Hunter hands Sophie the extra glass of wine and kisses her neck.

“You look gorgeous,” he says.

“Thank you.” She returns his adoring smile, then takes a sip of her wine. “Oh, I texted you the event center address and hotel concierge number in case of emergency.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lettie assures her, then blows a raspberry on baby number two’s belly.

“I thought we were having dinner,” I say, still confused as to what is happening.

“Oh, there’s a pizza in the freezer you can heat up,” Sophie offers. “Or you can order in. They’ll bring it right up.”

“Sounds great,” Lettie says, not bothering to glance in my direction.

Everything suddenly becomes clear. This isn’t a dinner party, and we’re not dinner guests, we’re the babysitters.

“We’ve been having some separation issues with the girls, so we’re going to just go,” Hunter whispers, then nods toward the door.

“We’ll keep them distracted,” Lettie singsongs to the smiling babies like she’s not trying to cover up their parents’ escape.

Sophie looks torn, but she must decide it’s for the best because she allows Hunter to usher her out the door.

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