The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,30

“Okay.”

They worked silently for nearly half a minute before she said, “Thanks for helping me.”

He shrugged. “What else am I going to do? Part of the job is keeping your mother happy with you, right?” He looked up at her. “This will make her happy.”

“Not just this. This.” Her eyebrows arched with her emphasis. “Everything. I’m sorry Blair was so hateful to you. Thanks for standing up to her, too.”

“I never could stand a bully.”

She looked surprised. “Blair’s not a bully. She’s just worried about me.”

Josh grimaced and set the next candle in the pool. “She’s your friend, so I won’t butt in, but I think she could have handled it differently . . . with some compassion.”

“That’s just how she is. Blair’s more of a confrontational, nip-things-in-the-bud type of person. She’s never been sweet and nurturing.”

“Like you?” He studied her face, which turned a soft pink as she watched him.

“How would you know that?”

He grinned, setting the last candle in the pool before standing in front of her. “Call it a hunch.”

“Megan!” a woman shouted in a happy voice.

They both turned to see a dark-haired woman running across the deck, her face lit up with excitement. She wore a gauzy orange and pink skirt and white tank topped with a gauzy button-down shirt, which hung open.

“Libby!” Megan thrust the empty tray at Josh and ran to her friend, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Libby shouted, waving and attracting the attention of Kevin and Megan’s grandmother. Blair didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her other supposed best friend, further cementing the title Josh had already assigned to her: bitch.

Libby pulled out of Megan’s hold and eyed Josh up and down with an appreciative look on her face. Josh already got a better vibe from her, and not just because she’d checked him out and found him worthy. It seemed reasonable to expect she’d be more open to and supportive of his arrangement with Megan.

But Megan had stiffened at Libby’s announcement, an alarmed look on her face, as if it hadn’t occurred to her that Libby would need to be let in on the charade. “Of course I’m here, Libby,” she said loudly. “I’m getting married in three days.”

Confusion flickered across Libby’s face.

Megan glanced back at Josh, as if issuing an SOS, and he strolled over to the two women. “Hi, Libby. I’m Josh,” he said, loud enough for her family to hear. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Libby glanced between the two of them with a slightly open mouth. She lowered her voice when she spoke next. “I thought you broke up with Jay back in April.”

Megan leaned closer, whispering. “I did.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re marrying him instead?”

“It’s a long story. But this is Josh, and my parents think he’s Jay.”

Libby blinked. “Why do they think he’s Jay if you’re calling him Josh?”

“Megan!” Her mother waved at her, motioning for her to join the small group of people she was talking to on the deck.

Megan placed a hand on her friend’s upper arm. “It’s a long story, Libby. I’ll tell you later, but right now I have to greet my mother’s snooty friends. Please, please, please just play along.”

She moved toward the couples trickling out the back door, leaving Josh with her still-confused friend. The number of guests had increased to about twenty. Bart was talking to three other men, and Josh considered joining them, but he needed to figure out a way to encourage Megan to keep him around longer. If not, he might find himself kicked out before he’d even started investigating. He had a hunch Libby would make a perfect ally.

“Why don’t we get you a drink?” he asked, motioning to the bar, where Megan’s brother had taken up residence. Apparently all his experience from their grandparents’ parties was being put to use for the evening.

Half-empty glass in hand, Josh led the way.

Kevin gave him a measured glare before flashing a smile at Libby. “What can I get for my favorite hippie?”

Libby rolled her eyes, but her grin neutralized the action. “I’ll take a glass of white wine. And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a hippie? That generalization would apply more to your sister than to me.”

Kevin grabbed a bottle of wine and poured a glass. “She works for an environmental nonprofit, and that’s the extent of it. You dye your own clothes, grow your own food, and make art out of recycled glass. Hippie.”

Libby