Page 29 of Beached Wedding

The clerk was holding onto a patient smile, but the people behind us were losing theirs.

“The sofa is a pullout, isn’t it?” I asked the concierge.

“It is, yes.”

“Can I sleep on it?” I asked Fox. “We can share the suite.”

“I... Sure? I mean, I’ll take the pullout, but okay. Thanks. Go ahead and cancel my other room and leave us in the suite,” he told the woman.

As he tucked his keycard back into his wallet, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

FOX

Ihad an urge to take Ashley’s hand as we approached the villa.

Why? This wasn’t a date. I looked for pockets in the boardies and only then realized my hands were empty.

“We should have brought wine or something.”

“Mom’s been planning the menu down to the last slice of toast since we booked the trip. We bought beer and wine when we bought the groceries.” Ashley rapped the door once and entered without waiting for an invite.

A variety of energy hit me as we stepped into the villa. The boy on the couch stared at me with open curiosity. Fliss held a handful of cutlery and offered a super casual, definitely not guilty of oversharing, closed-lipped smile.

The man taking chairs from the kitchen table might have some North American native in him, but could have been a very well-tanned White guy. He paused to give me an unabashed once-over while the two women in the kitchen sent a silent but loudly impliedHmmph.

“We’re all up to speed then,” Ashley said, showing all her teeth. “Thanks, Fliss.”

Fliss scuttled outside.

“Fox, this is my mom, Joanna, and my sister, Whitney.” Ashley waved, but it wasn’t really necessary. We’d all met online.

“Nice to meet you in person,” I said with the smile I reserved for the customers who looked like they wanted to spend a lot of money on something they didn’t know how to use, and would demand a refund later. The kind I wanted to be nice to, but wanted to steer away from setting me up for later blame.

Both women had their hands full of dishes and didn’t offer to shake.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Whitney’s tight smile shrank her top lip. She was a pretty blonde with a yoga-mom vibe. She had always seemed warm and funny and outgoing whenever I’d overheard her talking to Ashley, but she was definitely throwing cold today.

Joanna had struck me as far more reserved and still did. She was shorter and plumper than her daughters with hair the same shiny dark brown as Ashley’s, but hers had streaks of silver and was cut in a no-nonsense, boyish style.

“Make yourself at home,” Joanna said, but I wasn’t convinced she meant it.

“And this is Oliver, Whitney’s boyfriend,” Ashley said with a wave at the man who set down a chair so he could shake my hand. “Ryan is Oliver’s son.” Ashley nodded toward the sofa.

Oliver offered a friendly smile. He looked to be in his late thirties, had a receding hairline and the hint of a paunch. He shot a glance at Whitney, definitely checking up on whether he was allowed to like me or should hold me at arm’s length.

“Need help taking the table outside?” I offered.

“We were debating whether to bother.” Oliver gave the fruit bowl on the table a perplexed look. “The Holloways aren’t coming so?—”

“No? I should go see them,” Ashley said. “Is dinner ready now or?—”

Her mother was taking a tray of chicken wings out of the oven. “Sandy had a headache.”

“I’ll text them,” I said. “We can drop by after dinner if she’s feeling better.”

“Tell them you’ll bring some of this food,” Joanna said. “Save them ordering in or going out.”

Ashley angled her body to give him a bland,This is my mother, blink.

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