Page 17 of Catch and Release Groom

Easton batted away Ford’s hand. He’d begun today before the sun, and with the almost hour-long drive home, he was way too tired for this shit.

Sure, he’d been part of these interventions in the past—whenever there was something off with one of them, the rest of the group annoyed the shit out of that person until they caved and spilled their guts.

Too bad for them, he wasn’t going to have a heart-to-heart. Didn’t need one.

But he supposed giving his friends a tiny morsel to get them off his back wouldn’t hurt anyone. “That’s the handiwork of this morning’s first client. I tried to teach her to cast, and she repaid me by hooking my ear.” He gently brushed a fingertip over the scab as he recalled his time with Imogen this morning. “She caught me good, too.”

Lexi sat forward, face gleaming with fresh interest. “You met someone? That’s great news!”

A murmur of agreement rounded the room, as though having a barbed hook rip the shit out of his ear was an occasion to celebrate, not carelessness. Factor in Imogen’s evening of eating and drinking for two, that boner-killing ride from Hallmark hell, and her admission that she was supposed to be on her honeymoon, and it felt safe—ha—to declare her a walking, talking disaster.

Those lips, too. Talk about dangerous.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Lexi continued, not bothering to wait for confirmation. “If we’d known you weren’t responding to our texts because you met someone, we wouldn’t have resorted to such drastic measures.”

Their resident southern belle and the only person in their group to ever call Will Shepherd by his first name lifted her platinum head and resumed picture-perfect posture. “For the record, the door was unlocked. All we had to do was turn the knob, so there was no breaking. Just entering.”

Easton could argue that in the eyes of the law it still counted as trespassing, or throw out a false threat about how they could “tell it to a judge,” but they only bluffed that hard while playing poker. “Going zero to sixty in this neighborhood is also illegal, Lex, so I’m afraid I need to stop you right there.”

“Deflecting.” Lexi bounced in her seat and added a firmly pointed finger. “He’s deflecting, which means he must really like this woman.”

His friends noisily concurred, tossing out their two cents and talking over the top of one another, and he’d officially entered the seventh circle of singledom hell.

“Fine,” he said, loud enough to put a stop to the wild speculation. “In a roundabout way, you’re right. Imogen’s as quick-witted as she is frustrating. And yeah, she’s also easy on the eyes.”

An overly excited squeak slipped out of Lexi, and Ford added a low whistle.

“But before y’all jump to the wrong conclusion,” Easton quickly said, rushing to keep control of the narrative. “It’s honeymooners’ week at the resort.”

Even though Imogen wasn’t technically part of a couple anymore, she was fresh on the rebound—not from your average run-of-the-mill relationship, either. She’d planned to getmarried.

Oxygen leaked from his lungs as the image of a flower-strewn aisle flashed through his mind. Buried emotions tried to break free, resentment and panic, until the idea of anything related to matrimony caused his windpipe to clamp shut.

Sorta ironic, considering he and Grace talked marriage before they’d even graduated high school, but that was the thing about kids playing grownups. Eventually the real world came calling, and life didn’t tend to pull punches.

“Oh no. She’s married.” Lexi’s entire demeanor changed, her smile fading along with her excitement over a future he didn’t even want. She stretched her arm across the coffee table and gave his knee a consoling pat. “That just means she’s not the one, honey.”

If the pity creeping into everyone’s features went any further, he’d need a different sort of intervention.

“You’re right; she’s not. Imogen’s a runaway bride. Been there, done that. Lost a whole heap of T-shirts.” He had to tread carefully, or they’d think he still wasn’t over Grace.

Which he was, for the record. That didn’t mean he’d be willing to sign up for another relationship, and especially not one that hit so very close to home. It’d be like dinosaurs throwing a surprise party for an incoming asteroid.

“You never know.” Lexi aimed a syrupy-sweet, lovesick smile in Shep’s direction. “Will was just supposed to be a hot country boy I got out of my system, and look how that turned out.”

The room fell silent, and Shep’s mouth about hit the ground.“Babe.”

Lexi clucked her tongue. “Don’t act like I didn’t say this very thing to your face. Or that I’m not aware you referred to me as ‘Sexy Lexi’ to your friends for months.”

That provided Easton with the perfect opportunity to change the subject. “Months? Hell, he still calls you that.”

The first couple from their group to get hitched began playfully arguing, their faces drifting closer together, and Easton exchanged glances with Tucker, Murph, and Ford. They wordlessly agreed that would take a while and would involve a lot of PDA and, as one, stood to head into the kitchen.

Bottles rattled as Ford yanked open the fridge, called out a “heads-up,” and pitched beers around the circle. Lids hissed as they twisted free, a familiar soundtrack to many a poker night. As bummed as he’d been to miss out, he’d needed to keep his head straight. It’d been hard enough to pretend it was just a normal Friday night—and not the last weekend beforetheweekend when all eyes would be on him.

That was the thing about small towns: avoiding exes wasn’t really an option.

And in his case, not only had the townsfolk witnessed his very public rejection, most of them had been along for the ride since the relationship’s inception. Easton Reeves and Grace Harper, from homecoming king and queen, and couple voted “Most likely to make it forever,” to makeup artist to the stars and her country boy, to runaway bride and jilted, left-behind groom.

---