Beside him, Emmaline groaned. She was wearing what looked to be a white parachute. He’d seen burkas that revealed more skin.

It was a shame they weren’t going to swim in the ocean. Apparently, the ocean was too cold without a wet suit (Californians had clearly never swum in Keuka in May, the way Jack did every year).

At the memory of cold lake water, his heart began to thud. He stopped abruptly, and Emmaline, walking beside him, stopped, too. “Jack? You okay?”

Now his breathing was funny, shaking in and out of his chest. His heart felt the size of a cantaloupe. Something was wrong; he might be having a heart attack—

Then Em was towing him to a lounge chair and pushing him in it. He grabbed her wrist. “Nice and easy,” she said, sitting so they were face-to-face. “Slow down your breathing, big guy.” She reached out with her free hand and pushed some hair off his forehead. “Nice and slow.”

He was supposed to be looking after her this weekend. Not the other way around.

“The weather’s amazing today, isn’t it?” she said. “Say what you will about Southern California, we have great weather.”

She smelled like sunscreen. Also, she had freckles. He’d never noticed that before.

“I thought we could take a drive later on. It would be good to get away from here for a little while. Not that I’m having a terrible time or anything.” She smiled a little. Twisted her hand so he wasn’t gripping her wrist anymore, but left her hand in his. “There’s a great donut place not far from here. Well, there was. I hope it’s still in business. I’ll buy you a sugar—”

He leaned forward and kissed her, and her mouth opened in surprise. Her lips were soft, and that was enough. That was all he needed. Her soft, pretty mouth, and her hair, hot from the sunshine, under his hand as he cupped the back of her head.

The panic attack drifted to the back of his brain. The breeze fluttered her hair against his face, and he smoothed it away, still kissing her, which he should probably stop. And he would. Eventually.

She did it for him. Pulled back a few inches and didn’t look at him. Pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“No. That’s... It’s fine.”

Colleen O’Rourke—well, Colleen Campbell now—was suddenly at their side. Jack hadn’t seen her yet—they’d been on different flights out here—but she was an old friend of the bride or something. “Holy Saint Patrick, were you two just kissing?” she asked.

“Leave them alone, Coll,” said her twin.

“Hey, Connor,” Jack said. “What are you doing here?”

“Penance.” He sighed and looked at his sister. “I’m her babysitter.”

“He’s my date,” Colleen said at the same time.

“Colleen and Connor,” boomed a voice. “Please report to the pool immediately.” Ah. The bride had a bullhorn. Nice touch.

“Good God,” Connor muttered.

“Lucas couldn’t come,” Colleen said. “Believe it or not, Con wasn’t my first choice. But Lucas’s niece had an appendectomy, so he had to go to Chicago yesterday, and he forced Connor to come with me, because I’m a delicate flower, Jack, as you may have heard, and also percolating a baby.” She paused for breath. “You guys playing chicken? Con and I are a team.”

“This is horrifying,” Connor said. “I can’t believe I have to do this. I don’t even like hugging you.”

“Oh, stop. It’s a piggyback ride. It won’t kill you.”

“It might, the way you’re eating these days.”

“Colleen and Connor, report to poolside immediately.”

“Can you believe her? I didn’t like her in college, and I don’t like her now.” Colleen looked up at Em. “Are you guys playing?”

Emmaline, who hadn’t said boo, cleared her throat. “We thought it was volleyball. By the way, Jack and I are pretend engaged.”

Connor gave him a look, and Jack shrugged. Colleen clapped her hands. “I told you—you should’ve just committed to that plan to start with. Come on, Connor. Naomi’s summoning me. God, I wish Lucas was here!”

“You’re not the only one,” Connor said.

“Well, believe me, I didn’t want to be here with my grumpy-ass brother—oh, and by the way, Connor, you should’ve said yes to coming to this with Emmaline, because then you wouldn’t be here with your sister as your date.”

“I’m not your date. I’m your keeper,” Connor said.

“Emily and Jack, report to poolside immediately,” boomed the bride. What was that term? Bridezilla? Yeah. That worked.

“Well, shit.” Colleen sighed. “Come on, Connor. Prepare to fight to the death. Your death, of course. You have to save me and my unborn child.”

“This is so wrong,” Connor said, but he obeyed, and off they went.

Jack looked at Emmaline, who was still not looking at him. “Sorry about the kiss.”

“No, no. It’s...whatever.”

“Thank you, by the way.”

She looked at him abruptly. “What for?”

Her eyes were blue. Dark blue.

“Talking me down,” he said. “Letting me kiss you.”

She blushed. Made a weird snorting noise. “It was a huge sacrifice, Jack. I mean, have you looked in the mirror? You’re hideous. Hey, did I tell you I’m going to be a crisis negotiator? Well, sort of. I mean, I’m taking a class when we get back home. You know. Hostage situations. Suicidal people. So it was good practice. Not that you’re taking any hostages, or, uh...never mind. It’s fine. We’re good.”

She was nervous. It was kind of cute.

“Ready to play chicken?”

“No.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Take that thing off and let’s get going.”

“I should never have come to this wedding,” she said.

“You’re a cop. Be brave.”

“Bite me.”

“That’s my girl.”

Her blush deepened. Then she scowled at him, grumbled a little more and yanked the burka over her head.

Hello.

Now why the hell would she be worried about wearing a bathing suit when she looked like that? She had long legs, a really nice ass and an amazing rack that was on fantastic display, and whoever made that suit should be given a Nobel prize in engineering, because wow.

Emmaline wasn’t lean by any stretch of the imagination, but Jack always kind of liked that. She looked like a woman, not a prepubescent girl. The kind of woman who’d feel soft and sturdy at the same time.

Let’s find out, his brain told him.

“What are you looking at?” she growled.

He looked away. “My grandmother has that same bathing suit,” he said. “Try a bikini next time.”

“Right. I’ll also try setting myself on fire, since it would be just as fun. Bad enough that I’m here in the Land of Plastic People.”

“Emily and Jack, get over here now!” boomed the bride.

“I’m getting you a bikini,” he said, standing up. “Now that we’re engaged.”