Page 39 of Jilted

“Why aren’t the emergency spray-tan police here?” Elijah whispered.

I giggled. “I think they ran out of solution after using it all on Bridezilla. I can’t believe she showed up like that.”

The Bridezilla we were referring to wasn’t today’s bride, fortunately. It was Piper, the horrendous one from last time. Today’s bride was sweet as could be. She hadn’t even flinched when Piper walked in looking like the Great Pumpkin. I still couldn’t believe the woman had showed up looking exactly like what had made herthrow a hissy fit at her own wedding.Unbelievable. So far Piper’s was the only face I recognized from last time, though I suspected many of the groomsmen would be familiar since the series was based on fraternity brothers.

“Is everyone ready to let the guys in?” the mother of the bride asked the room. “I thought it would be nice to make the introductions in here, rather than as you’re about to walk down the aisle, since many of you haven’t met your partners yet.”

A murmur ofsureswent around the room before she opened the door to the library. The first man to walk in was none other than Wilder. He flashed a Hollywood-worthy smile that came with a shy,aw-shuckswave.

God, he really is adorable. It struck me as an odd thing to think about a six-foot-two, broad-shouldered professional rugby player, yet he somehow pulled it off. Freaking adorable.

The mother of the bride pointed to the ladies standing closest to us—Bridezilla and a pretty blonde who looked like she might be a model. “Wilder, your partner is Amanda.”

I frowned.Great.

Amanda leaned over to Piper and whispered, “Oh, wow. Is he single?”

Piper nodded. “He’s always single. Wilder is a lot of fun, but don’t expect more than that.”

Amanda licked her lips. “That’s okay.Funis all I’m looking for.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, like someone releasing the air from a balloon inside.

Elijah scooted closer as I stared down at the ground. “Apparently I’m not the only one who likes your dress.”

I looked up to meet a set of stunning blue eyes, and that stupid balloon under my rib cage filled back up with air—at least halfway. Wilder offered a slight nod before walking over to his smiling partner.

“Let’s move to the back,” Elijah said, “so I can take some candids of this crew.”

“Okay.” I tried not to pay much attention to Wilder and his pretty partner, but my eyes had a mind of their own. Amanda wasa touchy-feely one. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the ceremony started because I could’ve given myself a headache with all the teeth grinding I was doing.

At the cocktail hour, I took a glass of wine to a quiet table on the outside deck overlooking the ocean and typed some notes about the wedding into my phone for my article. It was beautiful here. The mansion sat on a bluff, and the smell of salt water drifted through the air. The distant sound of waves crashing relaxed me more than the wine.

Then I felt eyes on me. I turned and found Wilder standing in the doorway. I thought for sure he’d come over, especially because I was sitting all alone, but instead he lifted his hand in the type of wave you’d give a casual acquaintance and walked back inside. It left me confused, like maybe I’d done something to upset him and didn’t realize it.

Though when the reception started, he didn’tlookupset. In fact, he was all smiles with his partner in his arms as they swayed to the music.

Elijah noticed me watching. “She’s his partner. They have to dance together.”

He’d said it to make me feel better, but all I could think was,I was his partner last time. Is that the only reason he danced with me?

Over the next hour, my eyes caught with Wilder’s a few times, but he always looked away. There was no flirting, no secret grins, no winks—nothing I’d come to expect from him. And that might in and of itself have been the problem—I’d come to expect something from him.

In between my sulking, I chatted with some of the other guests at my table. One of them was a nice-looking man probably ten years older than me. He was seated two chairs over, but when the table emptied except for the two of us, he got up and took the seat next to me.

“I hate weddings,” he said. “How about you?”

I laughed. “Same.”

He motioned between us. “And the only thing worse than being seated at the single-friend table is being seated at the kiddie table.”

“I’m actually here working.”

“Ouch.” He reached for his stomach like he’d been punched in the gut. “I stand corrected. There is a shittier table than the kiddie table. Theemployeetable.”

I laughed again.

The man extended his hand with a smile. “Joe.”

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