Chapter One
Most women dreamof finding and marrying their soul mates.
Not me.
My soulmate wasn’t Mr. Right; he was Mr. Wrong, and hiding from him was becoming much more difficult every single day.
“Honor, are you paying attention?” my sister, Faith, asked, pulling me out of the rabbit hole where my thoughts had led.
“Of course, I am,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other and lifting the pamphlet, which was the stand-in for the bouquet of flowers I’d be holding at the wedding.
If Faith wasn’t convinced, she didn’t say. She turned back to the preacher and Keaton, her soon-to-be husband for the remainder of the important practice instructions, which had been a month in the making.
My family didn’t believe in long engagements. They also didn’t believe in making sure their soon-to-be spouses didn’t have any irritating habits like forgetting to put the cap on the toothpaste or leaving the toilet seat up. They’d learn soon enough.
I’d been fortunate—well, unfortunate—to have lived with a boyfriend once in my life. That was enoughexperiencefor me to know I coveted my personal space.
I’d never understand the girls’ willingness to accept the guys without digging in deeper and knowing more. They’d told me the heart knew what it wanted, and mine was telling me to run without ever looking back.
My heart might be defective, but it would never be broken.
The preacher cleared his throat and returned his gaze to my sister and Keaton. “When we get to this point in the ceremony, I’ll guide you through the vows and exchanging of the rings, and then comes the magical moment…”
I held in my chuckle. Magical? Hardly. More like biological. The honeymoon phase would last until one of them forgot to take out the trash or pick up after themselves.
I refrained from commenting out loud so all of my sisters didn’t kill me.
They each had their guy, no matter how they’d come to find them. I envied most of them for finding a version of normal to our own personal weirdness. Except Faith, of course. She kind of got screwed, knowing her man was just as gifted. It was the price for falling in love, I guessed.
“You may kiss your bride,” the preacher announced.
The smooch Keaton laid on Faith wasn’t pretend. It was heated and hungry. Keaton pulled her closer, took her deeper, to seal the fake deal.
“Save some for the honeymoon,” Nina called out with a chuckle.
I glanced at my watch, stifling my yawn. I was cutting it close.
Mercy nudged my arm and shook her head in blatant disapproval.
I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes before turning back to the happy couple with a smile plastered on my lips.
It was odd that the groomsmen were my sisters’ boyfriends. Keaton shared that cop mentality with most of them. Dating a Bennett sister was like signing up to join a crazy club.
He didn’t have many friends. I get it. Neither did I, so when they all headed back up the aisle to end the practice, and I took Jimbo’s arm for him to usher me out, I knew it could be worse.
Jimbo was tolerable. He was my sister’s best friend and the one person I wasn’t worried would think he’d get lucky.
We sauntered down the aisle like we were out on a Sunday stroll, and I did the fake wave like I’d just won a beauty pageant to the empty pews that would hold wedding guests in two days’ time.
“Seriously, Honor?” Faith asked. She’d been watching when I hadn’t realized we had an audience.
I cleared the smile from my face. “Are we done?”
Faith sighed. I knew that sigh. The one that said she was disappointed with me for whatever reason. All my sisters had mastered the sigh of annoyance and had used it on me at one point or another in my life.
“Are we keeping you?” Faith asked.
“Of course not,” Gwen answered, wrapping her arm through mine in a tight hold that reminded me I was breaking her rules.
