Page 59 of Love on Deck

“What’s wrong?” he asked, somehow sensing my mood shift.

“Nothing.” My smile could rival stuffed crust when it came to cheesy content. It was also just as artificial.

“Are you sure—”

“It’s my sister’s wedding.” I hoped those words spoke for themselves. This wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. If anything, it would need to be avoided at all costs until we reached Miami and went our separate ways. I couldn’t afford to allow myself feelings that would only end up hurting me later. My brain was too full to add anything else to worry about. Like a man. Or, more specifically, like a broken heart.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LAUREN

The wedding was perfect, as expected. A wooden pergola with white gauzy fabric framed white sand, clear teal water, and the happy couple. The moment they were pronounced husband and wife, we all threw our flowers in the air and hollered while Kevin dipped Amelia and kissed her. The photographer on scene captured the entire event, and despite my stern self-lecture earlier, my eyes sought Jack immediately.

He was already watching me.

Oh, goodbye heart. You’re so far gone.

When the couple eventually broke apart and the initial cheering had passed, we hugged them. I squeezed Kevin a little extra. “Welcome to the family,” I said.

He looked down at me. “Glad to be here.”

He meant it. Okay, fine. So maybe they weren’t too young for this. Maybe I’d like having a brother too.

When it was my turn for Amelia, she started crying. “I love you, Sissy.”

“Love you too. This wedding was absolute perfection.”

“And it isn’t over yet,” Kevin said, grinning like he was about to announce the winners of the on-board belly flop competition we’d tragically witnessed yesterday. “I have lunch planned.”

“We booked a table, Kev,” Amelia said, freezing.

“I canceled it. Don’t worry, wife. You’ll like this,” he promised, taking her hand and pulling her close. “We just have to hurry so we don’t miss it.”

Amelia looked unsure. As the person who’d researched restaurants and went to the trouble of calling ahead to book us a table for lunch, I was feeling a little like the waves getting close to our bare toes: salty.

“You’ll all like it,” Kevin reiterated, giving me a look that meant he was probably reading my mind now. “Let’s go.”

We followed him back up the shore after Kevin tipped the photographer and thanked the officiator.

Once we reached the surprise he’d booked, my mouth dropped clear open. Kevin’s family had money. We all knew this. It was part of the reason for this whole elopement, since his parents believed my kind, guileless sister to be a fortune-hunter. But when I saw the yacht he’d scheduled for half a day to cart us around the Bahamas for a sea-faring wedding reception, I was still swept away.

Maybe I hadn’t previously registered just how wealthy Kevin was, especially if he could drop this kind of money on an experience that would only last a few hours.

We all got on board and were shown to the front of the boat, where food was set out around deck furniture and music blasted through the speakers. It was elegant and fancy, and even if Amelia only wanted a beach wedding followed by lunch with her friends, I could tell she was impressed.

It was hard not to be, even if I felt the expense was probably ridiculous. My penny-pinching vein throbbed, but I suppressed it. This was Amelia’s day. Who cared if the cost of this excursion could probably go into mutual funds for thirty years and yield a return big enough to fund an entire fleet of yachts?

Oh, gosh. Maybe Kevin could already afford a fleet of yachts. You had to in order to spend like this, right?

Enough, Lauren. This was Amelia’s day.

And it was really, really nice. They drove us away from the island and anchored, leaving us floating in the middle of the ocean. The sun glared down, so I stayed in the shade of the overhang and munched on steak kabobs, goat cheese dip, and some sort of incredible crab pastry thing while everyone else lounged on the deck just a few steps below me.

Jack filled a plate and carried it to where I was sitting. “May I?”

The little bench seat wasn’t very big. “Sydney isn’t here, you know. I don’t need to be your shield right now.”

“Maybe I just want to sit by you.”

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