Page 22 of The Wedding Twist

He’d thought the contests had distracted them, but when the best man, Kurt, tried to convince the group to shed their gear and skinny-dip, touting the benefits of a cold plunge, Jack knew he was in trouble.

“Nah, we’re going to keep our clothes on, gents,” he said. “You guys ever seenStand By Me? You think those leeches were big, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

It was a bald-faced lie, but it seemed to do the trick, and the comment was met with boisterous laughter from the group.

Jeff came over and patted him on the back. “You’re the best, man,” he said. The whiff of whiskey on Jeff’s breath left him with no question that the groom would soon be three sheets to the wind.

Jack took a deep breath in. He’d for sure be in the doghouse with Celeste, but some food was exactly what this group needed.

“All right,” he called. “Who’s ready for lunch?”

*

It was shortlyafter one when Celeste pulled into the forest clearing where they’d arranged to meet. There wasn’t a soul to be seen, but she was early and wanted to get all set up before the group arrived back from their session.

The sun shone bright overhead as Celeste pulled the catering trays from the back of the van, then wheeled the lamps over to the picnic tables.

The meal was simple but hearty: a tray of boeuf bourguignon, with a chickpea stew for the vegetarian, roasted vegetables and garlic potatoes, Jeannie’s famous brussels sprout coleslaw, and homemade root beer from Best Case Brewery in town. She’d packed the remaining loaves of sourdough bread and butter from breakfast, and the cherry cheesecake she lugged out of the back of the van must have weighed twenty pounds.

Once everything was set up, Celeste perched on the picnic table, scrolling through her phone as she waited.

She heard before she saw them: male voices loudly singing “Home for a Rest” rang clear through the air. When she looked up from her phone, she saw the crew of them wading through the riverbanks toward her, gesticulating and marching in a way that was decidedly…festive.

He didn’t.

One by one, the fishers emerged from the river toward her, some walking in a staggered fashion that couldn’t be wholly attributed to the uneven ground.

She was going to kill Jack.

Her blood started to boil. “There she is! Madame Butterfly!” Kurt exclaimed, arms raised, his bucket hat askew. “We come bearing gifts!”

Jeff and the his dad, walking side by side with their arms around each other’s shoulders, were now chanting something that Celeste guessed was a sports team cheer of some kind. Jeff held a cooler, which he extended to her as they approached. “Here! Dinner for tonight!” he said. He stopped and surveyed the immaculately laid out picnic tables. Celeste suddenly regretted the white tablecloths. She’d have been smarter to bring plastic bibs.

Jack was at the back of the group, holding another cooler and a net, and looking at her sheepishly. He appeared to be sober, a fact that was keeping her from spearing him with one of his fishing rods.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly when he was right next to her. “They had flasks in their backpacks. I couldn’t stop them.”

Celeste faked a wide grin for the benefit of the guests, who were circling the picnic table. One of them made no attempt to hide another deep tip of his flask. “Kassie is going to kill me,” she hissed. Not only that, but she was also going to give the lodge a terrible review on her social media, and the Keystone Ridge Resort was going to see that rating, and Celeste was 100 percent going to be out of the running for the management job.

“Let’s get them some food, sober them up, then I’ll take them back out for a bit. They’ll be totally fine by the time we get back to the lodge,” Jack said, his eyes pleading.

Celeste clenched her jaw. “All right, everyone!” she said, doing her best to project a tone of jovial merriment. “Time to eat!”

Amazingly, the party were able to serve themselves, although the tablecloth would likely have to be discarded there was so much spillage.

Celeste poured root beers, which were tasty enough to distract the group from substituting with more alcohol and made sure their cups stayed full in hopes that they’d rehydrate a bit. After twenty minutes, she was able to sit down and rest for a moment while the group enjoyed their lunch.

“I’m really sorry,” Jack said, joining her at the empty picnic table with a plate. “Honestly. I think sometimes these things just take on a life of their own. And…at the end of the day, it’s pretty tame for a bachelor party. Groom’s day out, I mean.”

“I get it,” Celeste said. It was also Jeff’s wedding, and if this was something that made the weekend more special for him, she had to respect that. Even if it came at the cost of her plans to salvage her career.

When she looked over at Jack, he had a funny look on his face. He chewed and swallowed, then looked at her intently. “This,” he said, “is the most unbelievable field meal I’ve ever tasted.”

“You can tell that to Jeannie,” she said.

“And the guys are clearly happy.”

Celeste looked over at the other picnic table. “Jeff Grant likes to appear low maintenance—a ‘down-to-earth guy’s guy.’ But he likes the finer things in life.”

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