Page 71 of Love and Other Trials
Red lace.
Fudge sauce.
Best day ever.
They had fun finding her something in red lace, although it took two stores, but the fudge sauce was a piece of cake.
When they returned to the resort, people were waiting on the front steps of their cottage. She sighed. Dax sighed. Even Sherlock’s pace slowed. They hadn’t turned on their phones yet, and wouldn’t you know, she probably had a slew of texts about the latest crisis.
“Stephan, I suddenly want to make a break for it.”
Sherlock gave a dull whine and looked up at them with his sad, expressive eyes. She gave him an encouraging pat.
“Me too, Elizabeth.” Dax looked down at her, his bearing becoming almost battle ready. “Should I hide our special little package here? The bag might?—”
“Right.” She worried her lip, telling herself she was an adult. “Maybe it would make them leave us alone?”
His laugh was as dry as the surrounding sand dunes on the beach. “Really? After everything we’ve experienced so far?”
“You’re right.” She groaned quietly. “Better to flaunt it, then. Make them wonder.”
“I like that. Smile now. They’ve sighted us.”
“How did they know we’d arrived anyway?” she hissed.
“Lord of the Flieslookouts likely.”
She choked. “Good one. Okay, here we go.”
The Three Tornadoes were on the front steps along with Alison and Presley, brightly colored sundresses flapping madly in the wind coming off the beach. Ariel noted Tiffany had used some pick-me-up regimen. Her eyes and skin were no longer puffy or red. One bonus. Thankfully her mother wasn’t with them.
“Everything okay?” she asked brightly as they reached them, hoping she was wrong.
Tiffany and everyone else’s gazes seemed to lower. She saw a few shocked expressions. Tricia even gasped aloud.
That’s right. Lingerie and fudge sauce. Who’s the lucky girl?
The shock and curiosity lasted less than the life of a fly before Tiffany strode over and nearly slumped against her, ignoring Dax. “Oh, Ariel. It’s so awful. I keep thinking what’s next.”
She slid her arm around her sister, shouldering her weight as Sherlock gave them a wide berth. All her earlier happiness drained out of her, like she was a boat and her sister had poked holes in her all over. “What now, Tiff?”
“You need to see it for yourself.” Tiffany took her hand and dragged her down the steps and then onto the path, Sherlock trotting at her side.
She could hear the herd of footsteps behind her and knew Dax was joining them. He wouldn’t let her face this next crisis alone. She spotted the discreet sign on the ground pointing the way to the seaside area where Tiffany and Rob would exchange their marriage vows with the reception to follow in a tent. Following the path, she waited for the problem to become apparent, and boy, did it ever.
Stopping short, she felt her mouth gape like the trout she’d caught earlier. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”
The usually pristine, carefully manicured green grass before her was pockmarked with pools of mud.
Bubbling pools of mud.
At least eight of them.
All situated where the wedding and reception were supposed to be held.
The Deverell wedding curse had struck again.
SIXTEEN
