Page 1 of Three Grumpy Groomsmen

CHAPTER 1

Ford

“No. Goddammit,no. This motherfucker.”I’m staring at my phone and reading the message from one of my best friends for the third time. But I still don’t believe it.

Hey, I’m not going to be there today. It’s all wrong. I’m sorry you made the trip. Tell Harrison for me.

That’s not funny. Get your ass over here. We’re all dressed and ready.

I’m not kidding. I’m at the airport. I’m not doing it.

What the FUCK are you talking about? You are getting married today. Stop being a dick.

I’m not. I can’t.

You’re in love, you asshole. It’s Ivy. Get your ass over here. You have ten minutes.

I’m getting on the plane. I have to turn my phone off soon. Sorry.

You’re a cowardly cocksucking chickenshit! Get off the plane.

I’m serious. Get. Off. The. Plane.

I am going to kick your ass when I see you. And you can’t avoid me forever.

What did you say to Ivy?

“Hey. What’s going on? We’re supposed to be out in the garden in a couple of minutes.”

I look up as Harrison—yes, I know how our names sound together, ridiculous coincidence—pokes his head around the door to the room where we changed into our tuxes. He’s now myonlybest friend. Because the son of a bitch who is texting me right now is dead to me.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think they’re going to need us out there at all,” I say.

He frowns. “What are you talking about?”

I hold up my phone. “Brad just texted me.”

Harrison’s frown deepens and he steps into the room. “Hetexted you? Where is he? I haven’t seen him all morning. When I texted to ask if he wanted breakfast he never got back to me.”

I scowl at my phone. Then hand it over. I can’t read it out loud.

Harrison takes it, and his eyes scan the screen.

His gaze bounces back to mine. “He’s not here?He’s not coming? What the hell does he mean he can’t do this?”

I sigh heavily. This is an absolute clusterfuck and I’m so pissed at Brad I almost can’t see straight.

My phone pings, and Harrison looks down.

“What does it say?” I ask, somehow knowing it’s Brad again.

Harrison looks a little sick when he meets my gaze again. “You have to tell Ivy.”

I frown, then start shaking my head. “No. No fucking way.”

“I’m just reading the message to you,” Harrison says, handing my phone back. “Maybe you shouldn’t have called him a cowardly cocksucking chickenshit.”

“Heisa cowardly cocksucking chickenshit. And he wouldn’t have told her himself even if I hadn’t called him that,” I say.

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