Page 15 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“You might need this. Not too much though since you haven’t eaten. Can’t have you going all savage on us.”

Amelia takes a dainty sip, then wrinkles her nose and coughs as she hands it back. “Whatisthat?”

“I think Fireball? Cinnamon whisky.” Her friend takes a bigger swig, then turns to me. “Hi, I’m Morgan. Milly’s best friend. Single. And not a cheater, for the record.”

“Van.”

“Also known as Robbie,” Amelia says.

Morgan’s eyes take on a knowing look. “Robbie as in Restaurant Robbie? The guy who—” She makes an oomph as Amelia elbows her. “Right. Nice to meet you,Robbie. Or Van.”

Clearly, Amelia has talked about me. I’m dying to know what she said, but this isn’t the time to ask.

Amelia lifts a brow. I never knew a single eyebrow could hold so much judgment. “Apparently, he’s a man of many names.”

Before I can explain myself, Morgan takes Amelia by the shoulders.

“Listen. I can handle things here. Do you want to go?”

“As soon as humanly possible.”

“Great,” Morgan says, then groans. “Hang on. Neither of us drove to the church.”

“I’ve got a car.”

Both women swivel to face me, Morgan with a growing smile, and Amelia looking doubtful.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nope.” I did drive Tucker and Dumbo, but there are a bunch of guys from the team who could get them home. They’ll get over it.

“Van,” Morgan says, turning to me, face serious even as her eyes still dance. “Or Robbie. Whatever your name is—you’ve heard that with great power comes great responsibility?”

I chuckle. “I’ve seenSpidermana time or two.”

“The quote comes from Voltaire,” Amelia corrects, reminding me of our long-ago book debate. “Not Marvel.”

Again, Morgan glances between us. “Okay, then. We’re all familiar with the quote. Good. Van—will you take responsibility for Milly while I make sure they don’t set the church on fire?”

I glance behind her, where Drew and Becky are now shouting at each other. Coach and his brother are embroiled in an all-out brawl. I should care more than I do.

Maybe if Coach hadn’t thought the worst of me and then accidentally decked me, I’d help him out.

But I’d rather stay with Amelia.

There’s a crash as Coach and his brother fall through a coffee table, now rolling around on the floor throwing ineffective punches. It’s the worst fight I’ve ever seen. And that includes the time I saw two players get into it after one licked the other one’s face.

“That’s our signal.” Morgan ushers us toward a door at the back of the room, which appears to lead directly to the parking lot.

“You might want to grab some of my teammates from the sanctuary,” I tell Morgan. “They’ll keep Coach from hurting someone—or himself.”

“Are any of them single?” Morgan asks.

“Plenty.”

“Great.” She grins, gives Amelia a quick kiss on the cheek, whispers, “Love you, Milly. You’re going to get through this.”

“Take care of my dad,” Amelia says. “And the grandmas. And Aunt Sally.”

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