Page 35 of The Wedding Wrecker

Oh. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved to know Richard Wellington was talking about his son and not his… member.

"Hey, now," Dick said, shaking his head. "Let’s shoot it straight, dad. You’re not keeping Dick off the pretty women. You’re keeping pretty women off Dick!”

I was currently engaged in a horrible internal battle not to laugh aloud.

“If you’re lucky,” Dick said, leaning close. “You may even get a chance to find yourself getting pulled off Dick by dad before this trip is over.” As usual, he punctuated his creepiness with a wink—like a dash of salt to finish off the world’s most off-putting meal.

My brain short-circuited trying to process that entire exchange. "I'm spoken for," I managed in a quiet voice that was somewhere between laughter and crying. Did they seriously not hear themselves right now? And why was Dick speaking in the third person inthiscontext? Maybe they really were just messing around, and maybe I could ingratiate myself a little by joining in on the fun.

"Well," I said. "I hope you're all careful on the slopes. I wouldn't want you having to... pull your Dick out of a snowbank."

Mr. Wellington's expression darkened like I'd just insulted his ancestry. "Excuse you?"

I went bright red. "I just meant—you two were talking like, and I?—"

"Dick is an incredible athlete, Emma. All of my children are. He would never get stuck in a snowbank."

"Oh," I said. Right, becausethatwas the inappropriate part about my comment. I couldn’t figure these people out. "Sorry."

Mr. Wellington shot me a look that could have melted ice before joining the group.

Wonderful.Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like Mr. Wellington had soured on me from the moment James arrived.

With a sigh, I headed toward my mom, whose drink looked significantly emptier than when I'd first spotted her.

"Hey," I said, sliding onto the barstool beside her. A ball of ice formed in my stomach.

"Em," she said, lifting her eyes to me. My mom was in her late fifties with laugh lines that spoke of a life well-lived, silver hair, and a beautiful smile. This afternoon, though, she looked like she'd aged ten years overnight. "I was looking for you."

"Yeah, Lily told me."

My mom traced the rim of her glass with one finger, lips working like she was trying to find the right words.

Here comes the James conversation I've been dreading.

"I... know you probably hate me right now. I assume he told you who asked him to come here. And I know what he did to the wedding you planned in Ireland, and how much you likely hate the man, but?—"

"Mom..." I said. "Why, though? You don't seriously think there's something to uncover between Lily and Marcus, do you? They're practically perfect for each other."

"I don't know," she said, slumping like her spine had suddenly given up. "But a mother has intuition when it comes to her babies. And my intuition is telling me something about Marcus and his family isn’tright."

"Wait... his family?"

She shook her head. "There's just something. And I called this wedding wrecker man because, well, you told me how he exposed that man in Ireland. I looked him up, and it sounds likehe only works cases if he looks into them and thinks there's a good chance something is wrong. I was honestly hoping I'd talk to him and he'd get back in a few days and say there was nothing to investigate. But... here he is." She lifted her drink and drained the remains, then raised the glass toward the bartender.

I frowned. "What did he find?"

"Nothing yet, as far as I know. But do you care to explain why I saw him with his arm around you claiming to be your boyfriend?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Um, well. It's actually pretty easy to explain, but I need you to promise to keep this quiet. We can't even tell Lily."

Somewhere behind us, the large group of Wellington clan-mates let out a manlywhoopand charged out the doors to load onto a bus that would presumably take them to the slopes.

My mom raised her eyebrow. "You know what? I don't want to know. I can't handle any more secrets right now. As far as I'm concerned, you two are a happy, confusing couple. And that's that."

"You really don't want to know?"

"I don't like keeping things from my daughters. If I don't know, I don't have to keep the secret. So, no. I'll trust that you know what you're doing. You're both smart girls, and I will always trust you two."

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