ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A PLUS ONE

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ANNA

As a wedding planner and bridesmaid-for-hire, I'd seen a lot of crazy things at people's weddings over the years.

Drunk groom who could barely remember his own name? Check.

Florist who used the one flower the bride was deathly allergic to? Check.

A ringbearer swallowing the ring right before the ceremony? Check.

Nothing fazed me. I'd seen it all. Family drama? I could diffuse the tensest arguments ever. Hysterical crying because the bride's dress no longer fit? Nothing a little wizardry and fabric tape couldn't handle.

Tonight was my one-hundredth wedding. Pleased with myself, I made the fatal mistake of paying more attention to the plate of fajitas in front of me than to whomever was standing to say a toast to the bride and groom.

I clapped after the best man made his toast. He even managed to get a few laughs out of the crowd. After he and the groom slapped each other's backs instead of a full hug, I didn't notice another person standing up.

To be fair, Granny Ruth was so small I'd been surprised she hadn't needed a booster seat. Despite her small stature, she was also one of the most terrifying people I'd ever met.

The first time I met her, she told me that I was too skinny and too young to be a wedding planner. What being too skinny had to do with planning someone's wedding, I didn't know.

"To my grandson," Granny Ruth said in a voice that made the crowd instantly go quiet. She raised her glass, her gaze solely on her grandson. "I'm so happy for you," she said. She wiped away a tear.

I wasn't moved. I froze in anticipation.

I glanced at the bride, Meredith, whose face had gone deathly pale. Her groom, Trevor, looked similarly horrified.

"Trevor Eric. My only grandson. I waited for this day my entire life. You look so handsome in your suit. When you broke up with Sarah, we were so heartbroken.

"Such a pretty, smart girl. We thought you'd never get married after that. You told us you loved her so much."

Trevor was grimacing. Meredith shot me a look that said, Stop her!

The thing was, I hadn't been paying attention, and I'd let Granny Ruth start talking when I should've kept her from the mic entirely. To be fair, I'd told the DJ who not to give the microphone to, but apparently that list had been forgotten.

Granny Ruth gestured to someone in the back. From the corner of my eye, I could see a woman with dark hair and her arms crossed. She also happened to be wearing white.

Who invited the ex-girlfriend? I thought wildly.

"Then one day you brought home your new girlfriend," continued Granny Ruth, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. "She's not a Catholic, though. Not like Sarah. I'd always dreamed that one day you'd marry in the church."

The mother of the groom tried to shush her, but to no avail. Granny Ruth merely shook off the offending hand.

"But we're glad now you didn't marry in the church. Your girlfriend wouldn't have been able to wear white like she did today."

Silence. I heard a buzzing in my ears. Then I sprang from my seat and snagged the mic from Granny Ruth.

"Thank you for that speech," I said as cheerfully as possible. "Let's give another round of applause for the happy couple!"

The crowd gave a few halfhearted claps, but I kept clapping until everyone else followed suit. I could feel Granny Ruth glaring at my back. If looks could kill, I was sure I would've been dead on the floor already from her steely gaze.

I hurried to Meredith, whispering in her ear, "I'm so sorry—"

Meredith shook off my touch. "It's fine." She pushed her chair back in a huff.

When Trevor didn't immediately follow her, she snapped at her new husband, "Are you coming?"

He mumbled something under his breath, casting me a resigned look.

I could tell that the tension was worsening as Meredith and Trevor began to cut the cake. Meredith wasn't looking at her husband at all, while Trevor looked vaguely constipated.

The cake was four tiers, a white tower of frosting, flowers, and an adorable cake topper that included the couple's dopey chocolate lab, Mickey.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Not your best work, Dyer," I muttered to myself.

I needed to salvage this. I hurried to the DJ and told him to start playing Journey, the couple's favorite band.

"We need to get this party started," I told him. "Liven things up after that."

The DJ shrugged as the sounds of "Don't Stop Believin'" filled the banquet hall.

The cake cutting fortunately didn't turn into Meredith stabbing anyone with the cake knife. When Trevor tried to feed her a piece, though, she turned her face away and immediately returned to her seat at the bridal table.

I racked my brain, knowing that the mood of the wedding was slipping through my fingers.

I could've cheerfully wrung Granny Ruth's neck. She looked especially smug right now. Surely it wasn't illegal to strangle an old lady when you had a good reason?

My palms were starting to sweat, my heart pounding with anxiety, when the universe decided to be nice to me for a moment.

A waiter was cutting the cake for the rest of the guests when another waiter, carrying multiple trays of dirty dishes, tripped over the cake-cutting waiter's feet. The trays—and the dish-carrying waiter—came crashing down in a loud heap.

One of the trays went flying like a deadly frisbee. I watched in horror as it headed straight for the cake.

I reacted solely on instinct. I ran, my legs pumping, and threw myself in front of the tray. It hit me straight in the stomach.

But when I fell to the floor and saw that the cake was still standing, I didn't care that I'd made a fool out of myself.

I'd saved the cake from utter destruction. That was what mattered. My dignity was a worthy sacrifice.

Various guests were standing over me. When Meredith came over, she gazed down at me, her mouth wide open.

Then she started giggling.

"Oh, Anna," she kept saying, the laughter spilling out of her. "That was amazing. And insane."

One of the guests helped me up. I realized too late that I'd gotten splashed with some unknown liquid.

Cola? I wrinkled my nose. No, it was wine. Great. I'd never get that stain out of my dress. Good thing it was a dress I didn't care about wearing a second time.

I was muttering to myself when someone handed me a napkin. I dabbed at the wet stain, all the while knowing there was hardly any point. I'd experienced enough stains of all sorts at weddings to know this one wasn't going to come out without some major effort.

I went to the bathroom, relieved that it was empty. I cleaned myself up as best I could, but when I saw that even my shoes were now stained, I gave up. I wasn't going to win this battle.

I fixed my hair in the mirror and reapplied my lipstick. Just because my entire outfit was now splashed with wine didn't mean my face shouldn't still be presentable. I also didn't want people to think I was flustered.

When I exited the bathroom, I hesitated. The raucous music from the reception was so loud that I could feel the bass vibrating the floor. I heard cheers, and then I was heading in the opposite direction.

It was a cool night. People think that SoCal is always warm, but they don't realize how cold it can get at night in the desert. In my damp dress, it didn't take long for me to start shivering.

"That was a nice save back there," said a male voice.

I jumped. And because my bad luck was infinite tonight, I found myself nearly toppling backward into the grass like a newborn giraffe.

"Whoa!" The man grabbed my forearm, hauling me up. "You okay?"

It took me a moment to sort through what was going on. The first thing I noticed was that this man smelled amazing. Sandalwood, with something else that was spicy. I inhaled deeply.

Then I realized that he was still holding my arm, and I was plastered against him.

I disentangled myself, feeling like an i***t. "I swear I'm not usually this clumsy," I blurted. I felt sweat break out on my forehead. "This is just an off night."

"You weren't the clumsy one in there." The man gestured toward the event hall. "You dove in front of that cake like some kind of superhero. Although I'm not sure it was really worth it. It was just a cake, after all."

I gaped at him. "It's their wedding cake. You only get one wedding cake. And Meredith especially wanted to take home the top tier to freeze and eat on their one-year anniversary."

The man made a face. Despite the multitude of streetlamps, cars and buildings that kept the city lit up like a Christmas tree, I couldn't see this man's features well.

I could tell that he was tall, and he was wearing a nice suit. His hair was dark. That was about all the details I could glean.

When he stepped into the light, though, I felt like somebody had thrown another glass of wine. This time, into my face.

This man—he was f*****g gorgeous.

"Who wants to eat a half-frozen cake from a year ago?" he was saying. "Does anybody still do that?"

I shook myself internally. "Yeah, lots of couples do." I looked him up and down. "Are you married?"

His grin was easy, and it was annoying how handsome it made him. "Nah. That's not my vibe."

"Love isn't your vibe?"

"Who says marriage is a requirement for love?"

I waved a hand. "Any man who says he isn't into marriage is really saying that he doesn't like commitments in general. It's doublespeak."

"Really? You speak for all men?"

"Do you know how many weddings I've been involved with? How many grooms I've seen who've acted like their lives were over on the day of their wedding? Too many, I'll tell you that."

He made a face. "Then why get married?"

"Peer pressure. Your family's expectations. Money. Kids. Tax benefits. All kinds of reasons."

"If you're trying to convince me to agree with the concept of marriage," the handsome stranger said wryly, "you're doing a s**t job of it."

I laughed. "If it makes you feel better, most grooms are excited and in love with their brides. And I've learned when to say no to a couple if I get a feeling that one of them isn't as gung-ho as the other."

"Very wise of you."

I felt his gaze on me, and it made my skin prickle. When his gaze dropped to my cleavage, my p***y clenched. Yes, clenched.

I didn't even know this guy's name, and I wanted him to stick his hand down my panties right here and now.

Based on his expression, he seemed to be reading my mind. He moved closer, until I was pressed against the warm, brick wall.

"So," he drawled, "are you married?"

I held up my ringless hand. "Nope."

"A wedding planner who isn't married. Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"Planning a wedding isn't the same thing as getting married."

His lips quirked. "True."

I felt his breath on my forehead, and I couldn't stop myself from tilting my head back. Did I want him to kiss me? Yeah, I do.

My logical brain wanted to remind me that I couldn't just bounce from this wedding to hook up with one of the guests. Meredith was probably wondering where the hell I was.

Shut up, brain. Just give me this for once.

I hadn't had s*x in way too long. I was fairly certain I had cobwebs growing from my p***y at this point. Having a man this close? It was heady. It was overwhelming.

"What's your name?" the man asked, then he kissed me gently behind my ear.

It took me way too long to croak, "Anna."

I could feel him smile. "Nice to meet you." He licked at my pulse. "I'm Rowan."

He kissed my neck, my body on fire. My brain, however, was filling with the sound of alarm bells, like a fire truck's siren coming closer and closer.

"Rowan?" My voice was hoarse. That name sounded familiar… "What's your last name?"

Rowan stepped back, giving me an odd look. "Caldwell. Why?"

"Oh my God." I covered my eyes, wishing I could melt into the wall behind me. "You're my best friend's ex-boyfriend."