Page 7 of The Engagement Party

Will pressed his cheek against hers and provided a quick rundown of their guests. “The two who look like they stepped out of a clothing ad are Alex and Cassie. The one who’s contemplating taking his chances and swimming back to the mainland is Mitch. The cute brunette with the sunglasses on top of her head and the confused frown must be Sierra. I wrote a note on your invitation and told him to bring a guest this weekend. I’m surprised he did.”

Ruthie forced her runaway breathing to calm down again. “Sierra. That’s the woman you all think Mitch needs to open his eyes and marry?”

“Or at least date her.” Will made a humming sound. “He didn’t bother to tell me she was coming until yesterday. Sorry. I thought I’d passed that on.”

Typical and no.Ruthie had heard so much about Mitch and his background. All sordid and painful. His hesitant gait reflected the way he moved through the world—carefully. His blank expression didn’t give away his thoughts. He lifted a duffle bag andsmall suitcase out of the back of the cart, taking peeks at Sierra as she surveyed the island. “He keeps track of her. Watches when he thinks she’s not looking.”

“He’s got it bad.” Will stepped back. An eagerness to head for the door and welcome his friends thrummed off him. “He’s not great about keeping in touch, but when he does there’s a lot ofSierra thisandSierra that.”

Four of them. With Will, five. Ruthie didn’t like feeling outmaneuvered or outnumbered.

Will’s smile faded. “What’s wrong? You’re not nervous, are you?”

Wary. Cautious but optimistic.She pushed all hints of those feelings out of her voice. “Never.”

“They’re going to love you.” He winked at her. “We’ll enjoy a few days on the water. I’ll reconnect with old friends. We’ll make new memories. Then we’ll go home and deal with unrelenting rounds of exhausting wedding stuff.”

Little did he know that wasn’t the plan. Not even close.

He held out his hand. “Ready to meet everyone?”

She slipped her fingers through his. “Definitely.”

Time to get started. After all, she’d been planning this showdown for almost six months.

Chapter Seven

Sierra

More than an hour after arriving on the unexpectedly secluded island, Sierra struggled to understand the group dynamic unfolding in front of her. Mitch’s friends were thestand around the kitchen island drinking winetypes even though a perfectly comfortable-looking sectional sofa sat ten steps away in the open great room.

They’d all found their phone chargers and plugged in their cells immediately after splitting up to pick bedrooms and unpack. She’d almost balked at the idea of sleeping in the same room with Mitch until she realized the choice was that or sleeping alone in this place.

Up close, the house had that trying-to-look-rustic feel. The overstuffed furniture and open living room with the two-story soaring ceiling saidwealthy upgrade.The whitewashed bookshelf and perfectly broken in throw pillows and frayed accent rug criedvintage.The entire mix of decked-out-in-oatmeal-and-other-soothing-colors vibe and curated pieces made Sierra worry about spilling something.

Cassie made a quick call to say hello to her daughter and had to walk around the room to find a signal that held the call formore than two minutes. She’d giggled with the girl in a way that sounded sweet and loving but then got off the phone and complained nonstop about the spotty service until five minutes ago.

The couples milling around Sierra matched in apparent economic status. They looked like they walked right out of a casting call for a television show. The engineer and the art gallery manager. The successful lawyer duo. All attractive but pretending looks didn’t matter. Put-together, laughing at all the right jokes. Skipping over the difficult parts of their collective past, settling on safe talk about homes, work, and the upcoming wedding instead.

Mitch joined Sierra where she leaned against the sink, slightly away from the group but facing everyone as they talked. She sensed she needed to be ready... but for what?

“She’s not a blonde.” Mitch whispered the phrase against her ear.

Sierra studied Ruthie over of the rim of her water glass. She’d taken off her cardigan and now wore a sleeveless shirtdress that showed off her fit arms. Pretty with big brown eyes, a genuine smile, and black hair that fell in layered spirals just past her shoulders. Unexpected in some ways, but not in others. This was a Ruthie type who sent out written invitations to a casual weekend instead of picking up the phone or sending an email. That choice still fascinated Sierra.

“I admit I made some assumptions,” Sierra said. “But you didn’t correct me.”

“Going by historical data, your guess at Will’s new partner being the blond WASPy country club type seemed accurate. He’s always gone for a certain look and been relentless in pursuing it.”

Ruthie picked that moment to break away from the group and join Mitch and Sierra. “What are you two whispering about?”

Sierra couldn’t exactly sayyou,so she lied. “Did you grow up here?”

“What?” Ruthie’s glass bobbled a little in her hand, but she managed not to spill any of the precious wine on her light blue dress.

“On the island.” Mitch nodded in the direction of the rest of the group. “Cassie said your family owned the place... or maybe it was Alex.”

Likely trained by years of fatherhood, Alex picked his name out of the mumble of conversation and answered. “Will told me and I told Cassie.”

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