“Fine.” Knox shrugged. “It’s not like we’re telling about the time you ate raw pie dough because you couldn’t admit you’d made a mistake.”
She closed her eyes and groaned. “You just did.”
“Oops.” Knox, a huge grin on his face, turned to Will. “So she insisted she didn’t need any help making pie from scratch, but she forgot to prebake the crust—”
“That was not on the recipe card,” Hadley interrupted.
“So when it came out of the oven and we all took a bite, the crust wasn’t completely raw but it wasn’t done, either. The rest of us took a polite bite, then said we were full. Meanwhile, Miss Always Right over there ate her entire piece, the whole time insisting the crust was supposed to be like that.”
Okay, that Will could imagine without even trying. In the year he’d known her, he’d never seen her allude to things not being completely perfect or that she was ever wrong. He pivoted toward her, a comment about just that on his lips, when the look on her face stopped him. Her chin was tilted just a little too high, her smile a little too tight, and her posture a little too rigid. Knox may not have meant anything by his teasing, but it was clear as the blue sky above them that it had struck a nerve.
This is where you slide that knife home.
But he didn’t. Instead, for reasons he didn’t understand beyond the twist in his gut, he held up his sticks. “I’m not getting any traction here with the snipe. Can you show me how it’s done?”
She shook her head. “No way.”
“Come on,” he cajoled, holding out the sticks to her. “I’m obviously fucking this up. Usually, you love to tell me all about how I should be doing things, so give me a lesson.”
The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she took his sticks and started banging them together and whistling. He should have been taking that opportunity to gain more intel from her brother to figure out what vulnerabilities he could exploit to get her to back off Web—did he need to cut a check, offer her a job, buy her a condo in Boca?—but he got distracted by her ass again. He couldn’t help it.
She’d ass-notized him.
…
Hadley was not laughing on the bumpy ride from the cow pasture a half hour after her brother had ratted her out for making the world’s worst pie. She was not enjoying the fact that all the jostling meant she was sitting thigh to thigh with Will to maintain her balance. Also, she was not in the least bit bummed out about regaining her own personal bubble when Knox pulled the truck to a stop in front of the old barn where Adalyn’s reception was going to be.
Peeling paint and all, the barn looked gorgeous set against the pasture behind it and the big blue sky above. Off to the west were a few out-of-commission work buildings and a small cabin like the one she was staying in with Will.
“The four-wheeler is around back,” Knox said as she and Will climbed down from the truck’s cab. “You can ride that back to the house.”
Wait. What? Her pulse jacked up and she spun around. “You’re not decorating?”
Knox shook his head. “I have other obligations, but I’ll see you back at the house tonight for part two of game night. We have you guys in Pictionary.”
Oh God. When that wasn’t the worst bit of news she’d gotten in the past sixty seconds, that was saying something, because her artistic skill was so bad that stick figures were a reach. Since it wasn’t an option to hold on to the open truck door and beg Knox not to leave her alone with Will because she didn’t trust herself, she shut the passenger door and Knox drove off.
You can do this, Hads. You can ignore the way he looks in those jeans and the way his T-shirt fits with just the right amount of tightness across his shoulders. You will not fall for the packaging. Oh God. Package.
Her gaze dipped down to his jeans’ zipper before she could stop herself.
Dammit, Hads. This is not part of the plan.
What was the plan? Hell if she could remember.
“Are you two coming in?” Adalyn called from the open barn door.
Shoulders lifting, Hadley let out a relieved sigh that evened out her janky blood pressure.
Thank you, baby Jesus.
Hadley was always thrilled to see her little sister, but seeing her now was like finding the oasis in the desert—a chance at survival. She rushed over and gave her sister a bear hug.
“You just saw me last night,” her sister said, her voice muffled, since her face was squashed against Hadley’s shoulder.
Taking a step back, because suffocating her sister was not on her to-do list, Hadley said, “I know, but you’re gorgeous, your wedding is in a few days, and I’m so excited to help.”
The doubtful expression on Adalyn’s face and the knowing smirk on Will’s all but confirmed that Hadley wasn’t pulling it off, but she didn’t care as long as they all just went with it. Mercifully they did—at least for the moment—and walked into the old barn.
For as long as she’d known about it, the building had been called “the old barn.” It was one of those old-fashioned, curved-roofed red barns with a hayloft and horse stalls. Knox must have been out here with his renovation plans, though, because the musty, grimy, splintery, unused barn had been transformed. Most of the stalls at the back had been removed to create an open space big enough for a dance floor, long tables that went down both sides, and a raised dais for the wedding party to sit at. The remainder had been outfitted with booth seats that wrapped around the U-shaped half walls of the old stalls to offer a quieter space for guests to sit and chat.
The result was a unique reception area, pretty enough in its country charm to be Instagramable without even having to use a filter.
While she and Will took in the place like a couple of tourists, Adalyn stood in the middle of the barn with her arms wrapped around her waist, her hair up in a bedraggled ponytail, and dark circles under her eyes. Tension rolled off her in waves as she looked around at the etched mason jar vases on the tables and the strings of fairy lights hanging from the haylofts above them. Weddings were stressful, everyone knew that, but this wasn’t the usual jitters and nerves. How could it be with her fiancé still a no-show? The urge to drive to Denver to smack that man upside the head was strong, but she stuffed it down. That wasn’t what her sister needed at the moment.
“Wow, this looks amazing,” Hadley said. “The reception is going to be almost as gorgeous as you.”
Adalyn gave her a short, tight smile. “It took a while to talk Gabe and Mom into it, but then Weston, Knox, and I finally convinced them that rich people from the city who wanted something unique would pay big bucks for intimate destination weddings out here.” She waved toward the open barn doors. “The plan is to use the cabins as guest cottages once Knox finishes those up. Pretty soon the bunkhouse will be outfitted with twenty junior suites, and we have a crew coming out to build a lodge house and additional cabins. Then we’ll have everything to host weddings and corporate retreats during the off-season. With the way things are going, diversification is the name of the game.”
“That’s an ambitious plan.” And one she could totally see her siblings carrying off.
Adalyn whirled around, turning away from Hadley and Will. “You aren’t the only one with dreams, you know.”
Hadley flinched. “I never said I was.”
“Just because I stayed doesn’t mean I resigned myself to dodging cow patties for the rest of my life or that I don’t have plans for the future,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Adalyn.” She hurried over to her little sister’s side, worry jabbing at her like splinters under her skin, and put an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“You have to ask that?” Adalyn shrugged off Hadley’s touch and started pacing the wood dance floor. “I’m getting married in forty-eight hours; Derek still isn’t here.” Her voice got louder and more high-pitched with each word. “And I’ve spent more than I budgeted just to make this event fancy enough to impress my sister who thinks so badly of where she’s from that she left and never comes home.”
It only took a second for the shock of the declaration to transform into heavy, hot shame that clogged her throat. “That’s not true.”
“Really?” Adalyn started pacing again, her angry steps booming in the barn. “Then why do you only come home when you have to?”
Money? Her totally nonexistent free time? The fact that it’s easier to maintain the fake-it-because-she-still-hasn’t-made-it illusion by text than in person? “My life in Harbor City—”
Her sister threw her hands in the air. “Is perfect. We know. Your life is always perfect.”
All the phone calls where she glossed over the hard parts of her life, the feeling of being lost in a sea of people, and the constant grind that never seemed to take a break all came back. She hadn’t been honest. She’d been a photo filter in human form, smoothing out the cracks and adding a fake layer of soft light that turned everything rosy.
“Adalyn, that’s not—”
“What you meant?” she interrupted. “I don’t care. Not all of us are perfect all the time. Some of us work hard for things, pouring our hearts and souls into it, and never get the results we want.” Adalyn’s cheeks were mottled with emotion, and a frustrated anger burned in her eyes. “So yeah, maybe I went a little overboard to make everything extra to impress the woman who everything always does go right for. And what has it gotten me? A fucking clusterfuck of a wedding and a groom who can’t seem to get here. I—” Adalyn’s voice broke as the tears started rolling down her cheeks.