Page 11 of Luck of the Draw

“We know him through his aunt Dottie,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

His face lit up. “I love Dottie. That woman saved River’s life.”

Sam and I just nodded, and while his statement seemed dramatic, after meeting her, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.

The dinner was delicious. When the buffet was nearly empty and the last plates were cleared away, the happy couple had their first dance, and then everyone joined them. Sam gave me a wistful look, and I motioned for her to head to the dance floor. “Go dance with Tristan. Have fun.”

I was content to sit and people-watch. To be surrounded by beautiful dresses and fancy suits and tuxes. To bask in the sheer happiness all around me. My life had felt hopeless for so long, my soul soaked it in. Blue and Lee were out on the dance floor with the rest of the bridal party, enjoying themselves enough that I didn’t have to worry about them noticing me.

I took the last sip of my second drink (Tristan, bless him, had gotten us another round), then glanced back at the bar, realizing, one, the line was only two people long, and two, the guy who had caught us was not at the bar. Maybe he’d been arboretum security after all. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had security at a wedding like this. Who wouldn’t want to crash it?

I headed to the bar, pleased that there was only one person in front of me getting a couple of beers.

I approached the counter and asked for two lemon drops, figuring Sam would be thirsty. Just as the bartender finished pouring our drinks from a pitcher, I noticed a man heading toward the bar with a bucket full of ice.

I’d had a couple of hours to recover from the whole nearly getting caught thing, but the instant I saw him, it happened again—I froze like a deer caught in the headlights, stilled by his presence, by the sheer fact that a man like him existed and was standing across from me in the flesh, not on a poster or a TV. It was a strange combination of melting butter, dipping down a steep hill on a roller coaster, and a low current of electricity flowing over my skin.

Then he took a step toward me and the spell broke. I turned around and fled, the bartender’s tip still in my hand.

Chapter Four

Dylan

I’d fully intendedto tell someone about the crashers. The thing was, I was pretty sure neither of them was Victoria. Admittedly, Dottie’s description was slim on details, and Cinderellawaspretty and dark-haired, but she certainly didn’t look crazy, and I could practically hear Dottie in my head, telling me that I was picking up on her aura or some shit. Still, I’d been told to stop crashers, and Cinderella and her friendwerecrashers. Despite what Matteo and my dad might think of me, I wasn’t the kind of man to shirk my duty. So maybe I would have said something…if I hadn’t heard another scream from the amphitheater seconds after they disappeared. It sent a pulse of panic through me before I reminded myself that the people down there were probably being attacked by a goat, not a gun, and tucked the sparkling shoes beneath the bar and ran down to see what fresh hell awaited me.

Turned out the goat lady had gotten through our very limited security setup—thanks, Daniel—and nearly caused the bride’s train to go up in flames. The wedding party had averted the near-fire disaster, although Adalia, who’d pushed her sister away from the falling candelabra, had lost part of her own gown instead. Thankfully, the bridesmaid’s dresses had some weird puffy fabric sewn along the bottoms, like the tutus Tina used to wear to ballet class when we were kids, and only the sewed-on part caught fire. Finn had upended a vase full of water and lilies on her before it could do any harm.

But all of that had gone down before I made it to the amphitheater. By the time I got there, Daniel was chasing the goat as it attempted to run away with a guest’s clutch. Goat Lady Stella was hot on his heels, attempting to hit him with a stick she must have picked up from the grounds, hollering that “Grumpy” had a heart problem and shouldn’t be running. The guests were all watching in mute horror, but none of the Buchanans seemed all that fussed or surprised, even Georgie, who’d actually burst out laughing as she watched her plans go up in flames like that stuff on her sister’s dress.

Actually, maybe she was in shock.

“Give the goat a mint!” Dottie cried out, and Daniel, who’d of course stolen a handful and stuck them in his pocket, used one to lure him to a stop.

Only in Asheville.

As soon as the goat was stationary, Goat Lady Stella stopped running too.

It proved strangely easy to get her to leave.

Although she didn’t so much as flinch when I barked out, “Ma’am, you need to vacate the premises,” she swiveled to look at me after I touched her upper arm, giving me a long, lingering perusal. Her eyes wide, she held her hands out to me, palms facing down. It took me a solid ten seconds to realize she was offering herself up to be cuffed.

“Um. There’s no need for that, ma’am. Just follow us off the premises.”

“Pity,” she said, looking at me like I was the last hot-ticket Christmas toy in the bin. “But I think we can work out something mutually beneficial.” Apparently, she was some sort of artist because she offered to cooperate if I’d pose for a painting. Given that I hadn’t wanted to physically cart a little old lady off and Georgie’s laughter had dried up into a somewhat desperate look, I’d agreed on the spot, on the condition that I would only do it fully clothed. If a nude painting of me with some goats found its way online,Iwould be the one my grandmother said a rosary for every night, and my buddies in the Marines would never let me hear the end of it.

As we made our deal, Daniel made faces at me over her shoulder, mouthing something I didn’t understand. We followed her as far as the parking lot to make sure she actually took off, carting the goat along with a ribbon someone had given her because his leash had broken. Finally, as she ushered Grumpy into her VW van, Daniel turned to me with a grim look. “You’re going to regret that, dude. I’ve heard she eats men alive.”

“I thought she was involved with Lurch?” Not to mention she was probably old enough to be my grandmother.

“Sure, but she’s polyamorous.”

Who wasn’t in this town?

His shoulders slumped a little as we headed back to the bar. He obviously felt bad about letting Stella through, and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the other crashers to make him feel better, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

It was only after we got back to the bar, the silver shoes winking up at me from underneath it, that I realized why I’d kept quiet.

If I told someone else, they might find her before I did.

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