THE TROUBLE WITH RUNAWAY BRIDES (Lake Starlight #3)

Chapter 2

two

KENZIE

Nico, the owner of Pappa’s Tavern, rushes over to shake my hand as soon as I walk in the door.

I still haven’t grown used to the treatment I get sometimes just because of who I’m marrying. But Will likes it when we’re recognized. He likes the special tables, the luxury treatment. I don’t much care for the attention, but I never have enjoyed being at the center of anything—it usually means trouble for me.

I’m seated in a corner booth, waiting for Will to show up. I’m always the first one. Always. When the busboy comes to fill my water, I look up and my eyes catch a ghost from my past. How did I not notice Lance when I walked in?

He looks suave, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, one arm draped over the back of the chair next to him while he lifts a drink to his lips. He really did deserve that bachelor piece in the magazine. I mean, he’s always been gorgeous, all chiseled jaw and bright-blue eyes. His dirty-blond hair is cut short, making it appear so much darker than when he wore it a little longer as a boy. And the way he fills out his tailored suit—Jesus. I’m an engaged woman and should not be feeling this ache between my thighs. Will there ever be a time that I see Lance and don’t think what if?

He nods, and I give him a small wave.

I’m not sure whether or not to go over, so I bury my head in my phone. It’s already five minutes past the time Will should have arrived when he texts me.

Will: Dad called an impromptu meeting. Sorry babe. Maybe stop by after. Bring me lunch?

As if I have all day to bring him lunch.

Me: Sorry babe, I have a meeting with Blake and the producers after lunch.

Will: Skip it. I keep telling you, you don’t need that silly podcast anymore.

I exhale a long breath and try to remember that this is just the side of Will that was raised by a stay-at-home mother. It’s all he knows and what he expects in his wife-to-be, even if I’ve made it very clear that’s not what I want.

Me: And I keep telling you, I love it and want to make my own money.

Will: lol… okay. I wave the white flag. See you at my place tonight.

Me: Yes we have to go over some wedding stuff.

Will: My dad says more press the better.

Me: How intimate.

Will: I know. I know. I’m working on him. Gotta go. Love you.

I don’t bother responding because I know him and can guarantee his phone is already back in his pocket.

I set down my phone and look up when the waiter appears in front of my table, a glass of rosé in hand. “From the gentleman.”

Lance lifts his pint of beer.

“Oh, what the hell,” I mutter and slide out of my booth, taking the wine with me.

Our eyes catch and Lance’s shy smile, the one that starts slow and creeps into full wattage, emerges. I love that smile. Loved. I loved that smile.

“Hey,” he says when I reach his table. There’s more than one menu on the table, so he must be expecting someone else to join him.

Great. How stupid do I look with my drink in my hand as if he invited me over to lunch with him?

“Oh, sorry, you’re expecting people. I thought if you were here on your own, we could maybe…” I shake my head, not even bothering to finish my sentence.

“It’s Brinley and her boyfriend, Van. They’re visiting.”

My stomach sinks. “Oh, really? So that all worked out for her? I read something in Buzz Wheel about it.”

The only way I’ve caught up on the goings-on in my small hometown in Alaska—where Lance and I are from—is the gossip app Buzz Wheel, which reports on all the happenings in town, usually with photos as proof. Since they don’t touch anyone under eighteen, I’m thankful I’ve never been in it. Lance, his cousin Easton, and I were gossiped about enough in high school without it being broadcast to the masses.

“Yeah, don’t say anything, but I think he’s going to propose to her on the trip. He was asking me a lot of questions before they came.” Lance puts his hand out toward one of the chairs, offering me a seat.

I slide it out and put my wine on the table, hanging my purse on the back of the chair. “I’ll only stay until they show up.”

“I’m sure Brinley would like to see you.”

I grimace because I’m not so sure. We were the best of friends in high school, but after college, after Easton, things went south.

She called me last year when she met this Van guy and I thought maybe it would revive our friendship, but I always have this layer of guilt that keeps me from reaching out to her as much as I want to. I should’ve been there when her first husband died. I should’ve been there to hold her hand—after all, I was a bridesmaid at her wedding. But sometimes I think she looked at me and hated me, felt like I was tearing her cousins apart.

He chuckles. “I think she misses your friendship.”

I shrug and sip my wine, not wanting to get into it.

“So, how’s the wedding planning?”

I’m surprised by his question because I would never want to talk about his upcoming wedding—if he had one.

I put on my most practiced smile to try to hide my discomfort. “Well, it’s hard to marry an Asbury. The press is all over it, leaking news of the locations and following me to dress fittings. I just want it to be an intimate affair, but…”

“The Asburys don’t do intimate. At least from what I’ve witnessed.” He shrugs.

I know it’s a jab, but I don’t have the energy to argue. He has a point. They want huge and grand. I feel as though I’ve fought Will’s father at every turn and that he resents me, wishing Will was marrying a “yes girl.” I’m sure he thinks that since they’re paying for the entire wedding, I shouldn’t argue. And maybe he has a point.

“And I thought Buzz Wheel was bad once upon a time.” I roll my eyes playfully and tuck my dark hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have the press problem in Lake Starlight. That’s for sure.” He chuckles.

I almost spit out my wine. How come I never thought about that? We tossed around the idea of a destination wedding with the assumption that if we chose that, it would be the Caribbean or Hawaii, but Alaska is perfect. And my parents keep saying they want to go back there to visit.

“That’s a brilliant idea!”

His head tilts. “I’m sorry?”

“I should have the wedding in Lake Starlight.” Excitement bubbles up in my stomach like champagne in a glass.

“Did I say that?”

“You can pull some strings, right? At Glacier Point?”

Lance looks around as if he doesn’t want to be seen with me.

“Thank you so much. Oh, I can’t wait to talk to Will about this,” I say.

“Why would you have it in Lake Starlight?” He finishes his beer in one gulp, raising his hand for the waiter, who comes over immediately. I’m not sure if it’s because of me or Lance. His family name is big around here too. “Scotch. Neat.”

The waiter nods and disappears.

Lance tugs at the collar of his shirt. That, coupled with his ordering hard liquor at lunch, indicates that he’s not as excited about this idea as I am.

“Is there a problem?” I ask.

“It’s just that you haven’t even been back since you left. You could easily find some small town in the lower forty-eight to marry in, right?” He watches the bartender preparing his drink the entire time he speaks.

“I could, but I remember seeing weddings at Glacier Point when I was younger. Remember when your dad gave Brinley and me waitressing jobs that one summer?”

He should remember—it was the summer we lost our virginity to each other. During the Fourth of July party, we sneaked into an empty guest room.

“I remember,” he mumbles as if he doesn’t want to relive the memory of that night.

“I always dreamed of being one of those brides.” I fail to mention that I had thought I would be his bride. It was our wedding I had dreamed of, but times change, and we grew up and apart. Who really finds their soul mate in high school after first crushing on his cousin forever anyway?

His gaze falls to the door behind me, and I look over my shoulder. Brinley and who must be her boyfriend, Van, walk through the door. My eyes widen at how huge he is and all the tattoos on his arms. He couldn’t be more opposite of her first husband Sawyer if he tried.

Regardless of our lack of a relationship over the past year, I’m still excited to see her. I screech and dart across the room before throwing my arms around her neck and pressing my body to hers. She stays stiff as a board for a second before patting my back.

“Oh my god!” I draw back and look at my oldest friend. “You look gorgeous, and this must be Van.” We shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” he says in a deep voice, side-eyeing Brinley as if checking with her to make sure she’s okay.

The thought that that’s necessary makes my stomach sour, but I put on a smile. “The pleasure is all mine. I was supposed to meet my fiancé here, so imagine my surprise when he canceled and I bumped right into Lance.”

“What a coincidence,” Brinley says, looking past me at Lance.

When I first became friends with Brinley, I was intimidated by how close she was with Lance and Easton. They were more than cousins. The three of them were best friends, and I didn’t know where I’d fit in.

I lead them over to the table and Lance stands to say hello to them both.

We all sit, and Brinley buries her head in the menu. I get it. I haven’t been the friend I should have been over the years, and over the last year, we’ve really lost touch.

The table grows quiet, and I hate the awkward silence, so I fill it with nervous rambling. “So, we’ve had all these problems with the press lately. Somehow they keep figuring out the details of our wedding. My fiancé’s father is Wendell Asbury.”

Usually, I get a response to that, but Brinley and Van stare blankly at me. Okay then.

“Anyway, Lance gave me a great suggestion when we were chatting—we should have the wedding in Lake Starlight. Remember when we’d dream about having double weddings on the lake?”

Brinley’s mouth slowly falls open. I’m sure she’s shocked. “You’re going to get married on the lake?”

“The press will never think we’d have it all the way up in Alaska. It’s perfect.” I put my hand on Lance’s because I seriously owe him one.

Lance gently slides his hand out from under mine and I realize my mistake.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Brinley says, picking up her menu again.

“There really is no place like Lake Starlight,” Van says with a smile.

I mouth, “Thank you.” Finally, someone is on my side.

“Ow…” He reaches under the table to grab whatever limb I think Brinley just mauled.

The waiter comes over and interrupts us. We order drinks and then our lunch and I listen to them talk about their various family members, people I used to know every detail about. It makes me realize how far apart we really have become.

“And Easton is…” Brinley stops talking and her gaze flicks my way.

The table quiets. Either I address the elephant in the room, or we all act like Brinley has a sudden case of amnesia. “You can talk about Easton in front of me.”

“It’s not that. It’s just not important. Here comes our food.” Brinley signals toward the waiter approaching with a tray.

Forty-five minutes later, after a lunch filled with a lot of awkward conversation skirting around certain subjects, Lance says he has to get back to work.

“Let’s share a cab,” I say.

Lance agrees and Brinley scoffs but smiles when I look at her.

We give fake hugs bye. At least Brinley and I do. I’m pretty sure her hug with Lance is real and I probably don’t want to know whatever she whispered in his ear.

Lance holds the cab door open for me and I slide in while Brinley watches us like an evil stepmother. I don’t release a breath until the cab pulls away and we’re stopped at a traffic light.

“Does she really hate me that much?” I ask morosely.

Lance has his phone out. “It’s not that she hates you. She hates the two of us being near one another. I think she has a mild case of PTSD from everything that went down.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, I think, but the heavy feeling pressing down on my body is still present.

If I have my wedding in Lake Starlight, at Lance’s dad’s hotel, I’m probably going to see quite a bit of Lance. And if I’m honest with myself, part of the attraction of having it in Alaska is that I’d be able to reconnect with Brinley.

“Did you hear back from your dad?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I messaged our venue coordinator, and surprisingly, we’re open. So, if you really do want your wedding there, I’ll send you her info.”

“Great. Let me talk to Will.”

For the rest of the ride, our heads are buried in our phones.

The cab drops me off first and we do the whole “do we hug or not” thing, but ultimately I do hug him. “Thanks for everything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Bye, Kenzie.”

His bye comes across like he really means, Bye, I never want to see you again. Maybe the wedding in Lake Starlight is a bad idea, but now that it’s in my head, I can’t stop thinking of how much more romantic it will be without the press breathing down our necks. Even if I’m not marrying the man I always imagined I would be there.