Page 15 of Stuck With the Billionaire Grump

This weddingwillbe perfect. Or else.

Chapter Six: Theo

Istare up at the crooked wooden sign swinging to-and-fro outside the bar. The door has been propped open to tempt in the evening sea breeze, but there is so much noise pouring forth from inside that I can’t hear the ocean at all, even though the beach is right behind me. There’s a chalkboard sign posted on the sidewalk, declaring that the place is closed for a private event, though it looks like what’s going on here is anything but private.

The sign overhead looks like it’s been fixed to the post protruding from the building since this town was settled. The chains from which it dangles are rusted, and the faux medieval lettering is chipped and faded.Siren & Sword,it spells out. Just below the words is a rudimentary rendition of a mermaid tail curling around the blade of a sword, the bluish scales seemingly impervious to the sharp edges.

Nobody can say that this town can’t stick to a theme.

I sigh to myself, stepping aside to allow a pair of blonde twins into the bar. One of them shouts a thunderoushelloto someone inside before they even cross the threshold, and a tall manbehind the bar waves at her over the heads of the crowd. The girls are locals, presumably. Childhood friends of the bride or groom.

I need to go inside. If I keep standing out here like an idiot, someone is eventually going to start asking questions about a lurker. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself as a party crasher and have to defend myself by stating that I have, indeed, been invited to this event.

Another sigh passes my lips. I shift on my feet, moving aside again as still more people filter into the party.

Apparently, the future Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell opted not to have separate bachelor and bachelorette parties, and instead planned a combined soiree here at the local watering hole. Knowing how reserved Elijah can be, I had hoped it’d be a low-key event with a few champagne toasts, subtle music, and a reasonable guest list. Unfortunately, it seems to be the complete opposite of that. Loud pop music from two decades ago is booming from the sound system and party-goers’ hands are full of beer bottles and red plastic cups. There’s a nostalgic tinge to it all, as if I’m stepping back in time to a younger, wilder world.

I just need to make an appearance. Long enough to give my congratulations to the bride and groom, to sip maybe half a beer on the fringes of the crowd, and then I can disappear back to my cottage for the rest of the evening.

Satisfied with my game plan, I take a deep breath and enter the Siren & Sword. Instantly, I can barely hear myself think. The music is loud, causing the crowd to half-shout to be heard over it as they laugh and chatter and gossip with each other. A few glances are tossed my way from people I don’t know, but I ignore them as I politely push my way to the bar.

The bartender, a burly guy with a chiseled jaw who must be only a few years older than me, has been joined behind thebar by one of the blonde twins I saw moments ago. The young woman smiles at me like I’m an old friend as I approach.

“Open bar tonight!” she bellows at me in order to be heard over the raucous celebration. “What can I get you?”

“Anything,” I reply. “Literally anything at all.”

She snorts and hands me what looks like a dark lager in a brown bottle. I nod in thanks, noticing a streak of purple paint on her forearm, but she’s already twirled away to serve someone else.

I take a swig of the drink and then aim for a secluded corner of the room. Before I can make it more than three steps, however, the music cuts and a cheerful voice echoes from the speakers positioned near the ceiling.

“Hello, everyone! Welcome to the Josieandelijah Bachelor-Bachelorette Bash! Or, as I like to call it, the J-and-E B-B-B!”

I whirl around, shocked by how familiar the voice is.

Sure enough, standing atop one of the tables near the front of the room is none other than Lucy, her espresso-brown hair flowing thick and long around her shoulders. She grins and gestures to a couple standing beside the table. Even with my height advantage, I can just barely see their faces through the crowd. I recognize Elijah right away and make a mental note to beeline for him as soon as possible so I can get my greetings and congratulations over with before this chaos gives me a migraine.

The woman beside Elijah is most definitely theJosephine Montgomerywhose name was scrawled in elegant calligraphy on the wedding invitations. Elijah’s bride, Josie. With her mane of dark waves and big brown eyes, she looks oddly familiar.

No… notfamiliar. She looks almost exactly like Lucy.

I stumble slightly, my back hitting the wall as several realizations click into place.

Lucy M. That’s what was on her name tag at Camp Hannefort all those years ago. M forMontgomery. Yes, I remember now. Are they sisters? I don’t remember Lucy ever mentioning—

“I’ll keep this short and sweet so you can all get back to your revelry,” Lucy says into the mic in her hand, smiling brightly as if she’s never felt more at ease than when sixty to seventy pairs of adoring eyes are upon her.

I scoff under my breath. Clearly, she hasn’t changed at all.

“First and foremost, I want to extend a massive congratulations to my cousin, Josie, and her soon-to-be husband, Elijah. I think I speak for everyone when I say I’ve been waiting for this wedding for, like, half my life.”

Several cheers erupt from the crowd. Elijah lowers his face bashfully while his bride beams, her cheeks pink either from the attention or the alcohol.

“I also want to thank Liam Moore for generously offering an open bar tonight,” Lucy continues, gesturing to the broad-shouldered man behind the bar. “And also, a huge thanks to his wife Amy, Mermaid Shores’ internationally-acclaimed artist, for stepping back into her old bartending shoes for tonight. Metaphorically, of course, because I know for a fact you’re wearing Jimmy Choos right now, Amy.”

The blonde woman behind the bar throws her head back with laughter.

Suddenly, a hand reaches up from the crowd and wraps around the microphone. It takes me a second to realize that the hand belongs to Josie, who climbs atop a chair beside the table and gently pries the mic from her cousin.

---