The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,4

liquid sloshed around, nearly spilling over the side. “Now that’s different. Loving your mother and getting along with her are two very. Different. Things.” She waved her glass to emphasize her point.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, his mouth pursed. “My mother and I get along pretty well. Better than my brother and me.”

“You’re really, really lucky.” She took a sip of her drink and turned to the window to stare out into the clouds. When she was silent for several minutes, he decided she was done and turned to face the seat in front of him.

Josh took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and now that he was on this flight, he realized Noah was right. This caper was insane. He hadn’t even reserved a car or hotel for his time in Kansas City.

What the hell was he doing? It wasn’t like he could actually crash the Vandemeer wedding.

“Can I get you something else, Mr. McMillan?” Tiffani asked. Josh opened his eyes, a little irritated now. Wasn’t it a cardinal rule for flight attendants to leave sleeping—or possibly sleeping—passengers alone?

“No, thank you.”

“Can I have some water, please?” the woman next to him asked.

The flight attendant gave her a dirty look, then moved on to the next row. When she returned, she gave the woman her water and looked down at Josh, fluttering her lashes. “Mr. McMillan, if you change your mind, you let me know.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked away with a small sigh.

“Mr. McMillan,” the woman next to him singsonged in an undertone. “Will you have my babies?”

He laughed and turned to her. “She’s that obvious?”

She snorted, then asked after a pause, “Are you married, Mr. McMillan?”

He waggled his bare left fingers at her. “Nope. You?”

She looked down at the simple diamond solitaire on her left ring finger. “Nope. Very single.” Then she laughed and looked up at him with a wistful smile. “Guess why I’m going to Kansas City.”

“I have no idea.”

“Guess.”

“You’re joining the circus.”

“Nope. Guess again.” She leaned her head against the window, her eyes partially closed.

He found himself wondering again if she’d spent the morning at the airport bar. It seemed impossible that she could be so drunk off two drinks. “You’re going to join a convent.”

She laughed again and lifted her hand, showing him her ring. “I’m going home to my wedding.”

“But you just said you’re single.”

“I am. Now.” She sat up and grabbed the cup of water. “I broke up with the lying, cheating bastard six weeks ago.”

He shook his head. “I’m confused.”

She set her glass down with a thud, and water sloshed out. “I didn’t tell my mother.”

“So . . . you’re going to tell her you’re marrying an invisible man?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think that would work?”

He chuckled. “No.”

She flopped back in her seat with a harrumph. “You’re probably right.”

“So let me get this straight: You’re going home to your wedding, which is this . . . ?”

“Saturday.” She sat up again and leaned over, then picked up his half-full glass of Coke and Jack Daniel’s and gulped it down in a couple of swigs.

He grabbed her arm and pried the now-empty glass out of her hands. “Whoa, slow down there, slugger.”

“She’ll bring you more, you know,” she mumbled, leaning over the armrest toward him, trying to take the glass back.

He moved it out of reach. “Who?”

“The flight attendant. The future Mrs. McMillan.” She burst into giggles and pointed to the glass in his hand, whispering loudly, “Those are free in first class.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“But even if they weren’t, the future Mrs. McMillan would probably give them to you for free.”

“You think so?” he teased, looking down the aisle at the woman in question. “What do you think? Should I propose before I get off the plane?”

The brunette scrunched her nose. “She reminds me of some of the sorority girls I knew in college.”

“And is that a good thing or a bad one?”

She tried to look serious, but she needed to squint to see him. “Definitely bad. Those girls were bitches.”

He laughed despite himself. “I think you just saved me from a nasty divorce.”

She pointed her finger at him. “And don’t forget the alimony.”

“True enough. If you weren’t as drunk as a sailor on shore leave, I’d buy you a free drink. Is your mother really that scary?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Worse.” She grabbed her water and drained it.

“So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged.