of winning. “I only cursed once. My first usage of the word hell was in relation to the location.”
Debra shook the jar, making the coins clink. “Now it’s three.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What am I supposed to call the place where Satan and all his minions reside?” Blair turned to Neil’s stoically quiet father. He was studying his menu with an intensity that suggested he’d be given a quiz later.
Debra cringed. “I wish you wouldn’t use his name, dear.”
“Satan?” Blair asked in disbelief. “Is he like Lord Voldemort? Should we only refer to him as ‘you know who’?”
Debra pursed her lips, deep in thought. “I don’t know who this Lord Voldemort is, but that’s a great idea.”
Blair started to tell her that she was being ridiculous, but it was a pointless endeavor. Debra Fredrick was too simple-minded and stubborn for a fair argument. “Never mind.” She dug out her wallet and pulled out three ones and stuffed them into the jar.
“Is this some new wedding shower game?” a male voice asked from behind her. “Or have you resorted to panhandling, Aunt Debra? I saw a great corner in downtown Kansas City if you’re interested. The homeless guy who sleeps there looked like he’d share his spot and his bottle of booze.”
Neil’s mother gasped and clutched her chest again, looking like she was about to have a heart attack, while Neil’s father tried to hide his laughter. It was about the liveliest she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t focus on his transformation because she recognized that voice.
Blair spun around in horror. No. It couldn’t be . . .
But it was. Standing in front of her was Garrett Lowry.
How was the only word that found its way into her brain. Too dumbfounded to say anything, she simply gaped at him.
The only thing that made her feel better was that the look on her ex-boyfriend’s face undoubtedly matched her own.
“I’m glad you regret making such a crass joke,” Debra finally said, mistaking his dismay.
“So you really showed up.” Neil turned in his seat and glared at Garrett. “That took balls.”
“Neil!” Debra said. “A dollar!”
Neil shook his head as he dug a bill out of his wallet.
Garrett Lowry was Neil’s cousin? How had this never come up? Neil had told her about his nemesis, the cousin who’d made his every summer a living hell, but he’d never once referred to him by name. He was always asshole or Nana’s favorite. It had infuriated Neil when his nana insisted they invite him to the wedding. Admittedly, Blair hadn’t looked at Neil’s family’s guest list. She’d handed it over to her wedding planner, who had addressed all the invitations before running off to South America with one of her client’s grooms.
Garrett recovered enough to say, “Great to see you too, Neil. And I’m here on Nana Ruby’s orders. We both know that to defy Nana is to skirt one’s own death.” His gaze turned to Blair, and his eyes softened. “Trust me. This is the last place on earth I want to be right now.”
The pain behind his words caught her by surprise.
“Well . . .” Neil muttered.
Garrett tore his gaze away from Blair and turned his focus to Neil. “So you’re marrying Blair . . . Hansen.”
There was no mistaking the fact that he didn’t sound happy about it. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, or of her own elation over the possibility that he might still care for her.
She couldn’t trust Garrett Lowry, and she could deal with that. What she couldn’t handle was that she apparently couldn’t trust herself around him. Garrett was bad news, and she needed to steer clear of the man, or she was likely to be susceptible to falling for his charms. She’d fallen for him once; she couldn’t afford to do it again. She’d never survive it. But as she stared at him now, an undeniable feeling of longing rose up within her, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to stay away from him.
She needed a drink. And quick.
But Neil must have picked up on something too, because Garrett had Neil’s attention now. Neil stood and wrapped an arm possessively around her waist. “You know Blair?”
One of the great things about Neil was that he didn’t pry about her past. Early on, they’d agreed never to talk much about exes, and they’d both stuck to that rule, only exchanging basic information. She planned to keep it that way. “Mr. Lowry is