Chapter One
“Ido.”
The threat of tears tightened her throat. Pricked at her eyelids.
Shocked, feeling raw and exposed, Iris Shiprock held her pasted smile as the preacher turned from Sage to Gray. “Grayson Bartholomew, do you take Sage Martin as your lawfully wedded wife?”
Iris barely heard the positive response due to the sudden roaring in her ears.
Leave me alone.
Her best friend was getting married. She was not going to let the past mess up the present.
“Miss Iris, you got a run up your nose. Better catch it ’fore it drips.” The loudly whispered words, coming from the four-year-old glancing up at her, created a small rustle in the very full room. Taking the tissue the bridesmaid next to her—an attorney from Sage’s office—slid discreetly into her hand, Iris made a quick wipe.
And smiled at little Leigh. Sage’s daughter. The love of Iris’s life.
Nodding her approval of the fix, Leigh slid her little hand into Iris’s and turned back solemnly to watch her mom and new father as they followed formal vows with their own, more personal promises to each other.
Standing just to the side of Sage, Iris could only see Gray’s face, and watched the usually collected expression break along with his voice as he finished with “I will never turn my back on you or our family. You can count on me. Forever.”
As the roaring in Iris’s ears started up again, she averted her gaze. And it ran straight into the pair of blue eyes that were watching her, not the couple getting married.
The best man. Sage’s twin brother. Scott Martin.
Iris’s second-best friend.
Who had the audacity to wink at her. Right then and there.
As though he knew.
He didn’t. No one did. She’d reinvented herself when she’d moved from Northern California to San Diego ten years before.
And had long been over the bouts of panic that used to plague her.
She’d attended hundreds of weddings. All without issue.
Hadn’t had a breakdown in years.
And between Leigh and her uncle Scott, she didn’t have one then, either.
The groom kissed the bride. They both turned and picked up Leigh, kissed her cheeks, faced the crowd and started down the aisle.
On cue, Iris’s arm slid through Scott’s. He gave it a little squeeze. And off they went. Just as rehearsed.
Best buds dressed in their finery. At a glorious occasion.
With a fun evening ahead.
She was off the hook.
* * *
Weddings were not his thing. Scott had first had the revelation right about the time he’d looked over to see Iris struggling not to cry.
Three years they’d been friends and he’d never seen her look…vulnerable. Emotionally overwrought.
The sight wiped him out almost as much as listening to the vows his twin was making to his best friend, hearing his biggest failure among them.
