The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,24

overlay was set up on one level of the deck. But that wasn’t what had so stunned them.

The entire area was tented with a soft white fabric lined with white twinkle lights, and a giant chandelier hung in the middle, directly over the pool.

“Does your mother think we’re already married and this is the reception?” Josh asked.

“No, she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to torture me before the wedding.”

“What the . . .” He walked down the steps to the pool deck, checking out one of the bistro tables.

Megan followed in horror. Like the other tables, this one was decorated with a single blooming rose in a crystal vase, beneath which a few petals were artfully scattered on the white tablecloth. It was the domed glass covering the flower that had caught his attention.

“Is this from Beauty and the Beast?” Josh asked, turning back to gape at her.

She shook her head in dismay. “She said it was a princess theme.”

“That must make me the Beast.”

She released a short laugh. “If she originally planned it that way, I can assure you that she’s turned the tables. She loves you. I’m the Beast.”

He set the tray of candles on the table. “Oh, God. Is that bowl of red apples on the food table a Snow White reference? And the brass lamp must be a nod to Aladdin.”

Megan shook her head, speechless.

“Seriously, Megan. What the hell?”

She stared up at him in dismay. “I don’t know. I think I’m about twenty years too old for this party. And I don’t even like Disney movies. She knows that.”

“And I think I just lost my man card.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” her mother asked, coming out the back door, tsking when she saw the tray of candles on one of the tables.

“It’s something else, all right,” Megan answered, taking in the decorations. A clear high heel sat atop the bar at the end of the pool, keeping company with the liquor bottles.

Her mother set an ornate picture frame containing words instead of a photo on the organza-strewn table. Megan moved closer to see it read Megan and Josh, June 14.

“I thought Josh told you that he preferred to use Jay on everything.”

Her mother gave her a blank look. “Did he? I figured he meant the invitations. Besides, if people are going to call him Josh, it will be less confusing if the placard says Josh.”

Her father emerged from the door next, a frame in his hand. Megan gasped when she realized what it was: a photo of her and Josh in her parents’ kitchen.

“How did you get that?”

“The photos you sent me of you and Josh were just atrocious—all blurry and out of focus. And besides, Josh’s hair is longer now and he’s much cuter in person,” her mother said. “So after Josh kissed you in the kitchen, your father took your picture with his phone so we could use it tonight.”

“That’s creepy,” Megan muttered.

Her mother offered her a tight smile. “No. It was efficient. And while it’s not the professional portrait I wanted . . . which I suggested to you many, many times—”

“I told you that Jay couldn’t get away from work.”

“—this will have to do in a pinch.”

“Why do we need one at all?” Megan asked in dismay. “We’re both here. Our presence should be enough.” Although she hoped Josh wouldn’t be here for long so she could be done with this disaster of a weekend.

She looked over her shoulder at him and mouthed sorry, although she wasn’t entirely sure why. He gave her a sympathetic smile before she turned back to face her mother, and she was surprised by how comforting the gesture was. She couldn’t help thinking what Jay would have done in this situation. No doubt he would have found a reason to blame it on her. He certainly wouldn’t have done a thing to comfort her.

Her mother’s brow furrowed, but not by much, making Megan wonder if she’d had Botox injections recently. “Barbara Decker’s daughter’s engagement party was gorgeous. You’re not going to have anything less.”

“Are you saying this is our engagement party? We’re getting married in three days!”

“Barbara Decker gave her daughter an engagement party that was the talk of the country club for months.” Her mouth turned down. “I won’t be outdone by that social wannabe.”

“So you did all of this?” Megan’s voice rose as she gestured to the tent over their heads. “How much did it even cost?”

“Too much,” her father grumbled.

“Bart!” her mother reprimanded. “Enough of that. You