Page 19 of Jack
“That’ll be hard with all the paparazzi.”
“No paparazzi. All of Oaken’s friends and family are at Grover House. My family is here at Doyle’s, and Dodge and Echo and the rest of the Alaska Kingstons are staying with Dad and Mom when they arrive. Security will be on-site the day of, checking off guests with their digital invitation . . .” She sighed. “Maybe we should have eloped.”
Harper came off the bed, walked over to take her friend’s hands. “Listen, as your friend, I promise to keep anything I write sweet and chaste and perfect. You’re going to have an amazing, drama-free week. I promise.”
“I don’t think you can promise the drama-free part, but . . . thanks.”
“Well, don’t worry about me and Jack.” She glanced at Penelope. “And I’ll make sure Penelope doesn’t run off with one of your brothers.”
“What? Me?” But Penelope grinned. “It’s hard to be beautiful.” She tossed her hair.
It worked, because Boo laughed. “Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs in a half hour. Dance rehearsal is in town, with dinner for the entire party at the Moonlight Supperclub.” She glanced at Harper. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to ride in Jack’s ancient green Geo Tracker.”
“He still has that?”
“Saw him pull up in it today.”
Harper laughed. “Be still my heart. I used to think that car was so cool.”
“I think he still does.” Boo winked and headed toward the door.
Which left Harper the next twenty-eight minutes to stare at the stupid party outfits she’d brought, wondering which of them might make her feel less naked in Jack’s arms.
She finally decided on the one-piece black jumpsuit with wide legs, and a long-sleeve white turtleneck, short boots. Felt like enough armor.
Of course, Penelope rocked her outfit in a white V-neck shirt, matching white pants, and an oversized black suit jacket, the sleeves rolled up. She wore her dark hair down, spike boots, and looked like she’d just walked off the runway.
So not fair.
Penelope hooked arms with Harper and leaned in. “He’s going to regret laughing.”
Sweet, but hardly.
They came downstairs, where Boo had divided up rides. Doyle’s SUV took Austen and Penelope, Boo’s hockey-star brother Conrad, Harper, and former SEAL Steinbeck. He climbed into the back seat next to Harper, and she barely fit against his broad shoulders.
Why all Boo’s brothers had to be built like action heroes, she didn’t know, but Steinbeck had actually been one, for a while.
“I didn’t know you were back.”
“Couldn’t miss Boo’s wedding.” He looked over at her with those blue Kingston eyes. He still had a tan and maintained his military build.
“So you call her Boo too.”
“Why not?”
“After the fight between her and Jack?—”
“Yeah, Jack was way out of line. Doyle and I—and Austen—call her Boo. It was a nickname her Marine team leader gave her, and she liked it, so . . .” He lifted a shoulder. “Mom and Dad and Jack still call her Brontë. Jack can’t get past the Boo thing?—”
“They seem to have gotten past the fight, though. They’re pretty friendly now.” In fact, Boo was riding with Jack in his crazy little Geo.
Steinbeck’s mouth tightened. He shrugged.
Interesting.
They rode into town. So much had been remodeled after the tornado, including the old supper club, now with a new exterior of stone and reclaimed wood beams, probably from the previous building. It sat on the edge of town with a panoramic view of the lake and stars.
Austen parked, and as they got out, Harper spotted Jack in the moonlit parking lot. He wore a pair of jeans, black boots, and a leather jacket. Not a hint of a smile on his face.