Page 7 of A Little Luck
“I’ve never planned a wedding in my life.” Panic tightens my lungs as I blink rapidly from Britt to Cass, who’s on stage, singing “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” by Céline Dion.
We’re at El Rio, the one and only restaurant in Eureka, where Cass’s fiancé Alex Stone (yes, that would be Aiden and Adam Stone’s middle brother) has convinced the owner to have Thursday night karaoke just so he can hear her sing on stage.
As the richest man in town, Alex Stone gets away with shit like that.
Don’t get me wrong, Cass has a beautiful voice, which I can only assume she inherited from her mom, Crystal Gayle Dixon.
Crystal pretty much abandoned her daughters, Cass and Cass’s little sister Jemima, when they were babies to pursue a singing career in Branson. She left them in Eureka with their Aunt Carol, then years later, we learned she died alone in a motel room.
Before all that, however, she was best friends with my doomsday-prepper mom and Gwen, the tarot-reading, psychic.
It’s the common link my best friends and I share—messy moms and dead dads—and it bonds us in a way only we can understand.
It makes us like sisters… Where one sister,me, is completely freaking out right now.
“I cannot be responsible for ruining Cass’s big day,” I cry. “You know how shitty my luck is. I’m totally cursed, and nobody wants a cursed person planning their wedding.”
“You are not cursed!” Britt holds a plastic cup of ice water against the side of her neck, a faint green hue tingeing her skin.
“The universe would not agree. I don’t even plan Ryan’s birthday parties.”
“Who does?” Her chin pulls back with a frown, and Aiden walks up to hand her a ginger ale.
“Mom, believe it or not. She’s actually pretty good at planning little-boy parties.”
“Maybe she can help you… Oh, God.” Britt exhales heavily, before sliding to the end of the booth fast. “This morning sickness is worse than a curse.”
She takes off, practically sprinting for the restroom before I can say, ‘At least it’ll be gone in a few months.’ I can’t seem to shake the dark cloud hanging over my head.
Cass frowns, watching us from the stage where she’s singing. Aiden and I go after Britt, but she’s too fast. The door slams, and we’re outside the locked, single-serve restroom while heaving noises echo from inside.
My nose squinches, and I look up at Aiden. “Is this all the time?”
He nods, frustrated helplessness lining his handsome face. “She’s down to crackers and ginger ale for every meal.”
Aiden Stone is six-foot-two inches of pure muscle. He’s always,alwaysin control, and as town sheriff and the eldest of the Stone brothers, I’m pretty sure he’s never had a helpless day in his entire life. Until now.
I, on the other hand, am an excellent actress.
“They say morning sickness means you’ll have a boy.” I do my best to lighten the mood—it’s what I do. “Or maybe it means the baby has a lot of hair? Shit. Maybe it’s red hair.”
“If that’s the case, she’s having a bright red sasquatch.”
My brows shoot up, and I snort a laugh. Humor is not something one usually gets from Aiden Stone. “Good one.”
Leaning against the wall, I look to where Cass is finishing her song and Alex is standing in the front row beaming at her. They’re so in love, and Cass is such a good friend. Their wedding has to be perfect—not cursed.
Britt originally volunteered to plan the whole thing because Cass planned her wedding to Aiden. Then the vomiting started.
“I’m not sure we want Mom taking over.” I sigh as we wait. “Little boy parties are nothing like weddings.”
Cass steps off the stage straight into Alex’s arms. He kisses the tip of her nose, and the two of them walk hand in hand to the booth where we were all sitting. The lock snaps on the bathroom door, and Britt emerges. Her eyes are watery, and her lipstick is gone.
Aiden pulls her gently to his side, kissing the top of her blonde head. “Ready to go home?”
She gives him a pitiful smile and a nod, and I scratch the side of my cheek. She’s not going to let me out of this wedding deal, and nowIfeel queasy. Everything Cass does for us is perfect, and I can’t be the one to let her down on her big day.
The front door opens, and Adam enters the restaurant. His longish hair swirls in the breeze, and his eyes immediately find mine. My stomach squeezes at the sight of him in loose, faded jeans and a short-sleeved navy sweater. His muscles stretch the fabric, and light glints off his square jaw.