Chapter 1

Chapter One

Libby

No one had ever accused me of being a practical woman. Not that I cared. The practical choice was often the safe one. The boring one. And I’d never been accused of being boring.

I firmly believed in living life to the fullest.

Ironically enough, the fact that I was now preparing to walk down the aisle toward a man I had no intention of marrying was the first practical choice I’d consciously made, even if no one else realized it. Especially my two best friends.

“Libby,” Megan gushed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. “You look gorgeous.”

Blair gave me a warm smile. “She’s right, Libs. You’re stunning.”

“And just think,” Megan said, fluffing my tulle gown. “Not a single mishap.”

That was the part that shook my faith in my plan. Why was my wedding going so perfectly?

Blair put her hand on my arm as she locked eyes with mine in the mirror. “I confess, when you called last month and told me you were marrying Mitch three days before your thirtieth birthday, I had my doubts. I thought this might be some scheme related to that stupid wedding curse, but I’m happy I was wrong. Mitch seems like a great guy.” She rolled her eyes, but grinned. “Even if he’s gone a little overboard with the football theme.”

I gave her a weak smile. “He is pretty great.” There was no denying it. Mitch was a fantastic guy in social situations. Of the many boyfriends who’d come and gone in the past fifteen years, he was the only one who was both fairly dependable and accepting of my quirkiness. He even tried to understand my close friendship with Megan’s brother-in-law, Noah McMillan, which was more than I could say for Megan and Blair. That had to count for something, right?

But something was missing with Mitch. In the beginning, it hadn’t really mattered. I didn’t want to marry him. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that the woman in his life would always take a distant second to his sporting activities. But I’d needed a date to Megan’s wedding, and then Blair’s, and the fact that my friends kept expecting me to break up with him, that they were always so utterly shocked I was still with the same guy, started to chafe. And, so, I stayed with him. At first, I wanted to save face and prove I wasn’t as flighty as they thought. Then, because I had seen the curse come to life with my friends’ weddings, I fully expected it to do the same with mine.

Back when we were kids, the three of us had made a pact to marry our husbands before our thirtieth birthdays. We’d formed the agreement while in line to see a fortune teller, and mere moments later, Madame Rowena told us our weddings would be total disasters and each of us would marry someone other than our intended.

The curse.

I was the only one who’d taken it seriously, but there was no denying Megan and Blair had both gotten married before their thirtieth birthdays, and neither of their husbands were the men who’d originally proposed to them. And God knew, the days leading up to their weddings had been filled with disaster after disaster.

Just like the fortune teller had predicted.

“In a week or two, maybe Garrett and I will have you both over for dinner.”

“Listen to you, Blair Hansen-Lowry,” Megan gushed. “Dinner parties with other couples? Marriage definitely agrees with you.”

The normally hard-assed Blair actually blushed. “Now that Garrett has moved to Kansas City and we’re starting our own practice…” Her blush deepened. “I just never expected to be so happy.” Then a mock scowl crossed her face. “If you ever repeat that to anyone, I’ll deny it.”

Megan gave her a teasing grin, but I knew better than to make a big deal of Blair’s uncharacteristic sentimentality.

“Just think,” Megan said. “When Josh and I move into our house in Lee’s Summit next month, all six of us can hang out together. It’ll be like old times.”

I had to admit, Blair looked happier than she had since high school. The curse had changed her life—and Megan’s—for the better.

Then what in the hell was I doing wrong? Staring down at my bare left finger, I tried to keep from wringing my hands. Because the fact was—I’d never planned to walk down the aisle toward Mitch, so I’d refused to let him buy me an engagement ring. I’d bought two cheap wedding bands at a superstore to avoid suspicion. The best man now had them in his pocket.

The door to the room opened, and Josh McMillan, Megan’s husband of five months, poked his head in the room. “Hey, girls.”

Megan glanced up in surprise. “Josh, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you seated?”

I looked at him with a hopeful expression. Since Mitch had a tendency to tune out anything that wasn’t directly related to the Arkansas Razorbacks or the high school football team he coached at the school where he taught phys. ed., I’d put Josh in charge of making sure the groom’s side of things ran smoothly.

Butterflies filled my stomach. Perhaps this was what I’d been waiting for—for the curse to do its job.

Josh walked through the threshold and shut the door behind him. An apologetic look covered his face. “Libs, I have some bad news.”

“Mitch didn’t show?” I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice.

His eyes widened, then he shook his head. “What? No. Nothing like that. Mitch is in the church office watching the Arkansas football game.”

Figured. “Then what’s the bad news?”

He grimaced, casting a glance at Megan, then back at me. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we haven’t started yet…”

“You mean it’s not because Mitch doesn’t want to miss the end of the game?” I asked wryly.

“Not entirely.” He looked concerned. “It’s because we’ve been waiting on one of the groomsmen to arrive.”

There were only two groomsmen, and I’d seen Mitch’s cousin only a few hours earlier. That left one person. Josh’s brother. “Is Noah’s plane late?”

“Not exactly…”

I waited for him to continue, waiting for all the facts before I let myself get upset.

Josh held my gaze. “He’s not coming at all.”

The blood rushed from my head. “What? Why not?”

“Libs, I don’t know. He said something about Donna needing him this weekend.”

His girlfriend of four weeks?

Back in June, Noah and I had become instant friends in the lead-up to Megan and Josh’s circus of a wedding, and the two of us had schemed to make sure the new couple’s marriage was legit. Our friendship had grown closer over the following months, and Noah had quickly replaced my two best friends as my closest confidant.

Since Noah was a notorious womanizer and I was known for my serial dating, our relationship confused everyone we knew. It was so unlike us, but then, maybe that was why it worked. It had only felt natural to include Noah in the wedding party. After all, Mitch hadn’t minded.

But he’d suddenly decided not to come? Just on a whim?

What the actual hell?

Josh gave me a sympathetic look. “Libby, I’m sorry. I warned you he could be… unreliable.”

It was true. While Josh had warned me about that side of him—Noah had even admitted to it—but I’d never seen it myself. Somehow, I’d thought our friendship had changed him. It had definitely changed me.

My anger flared. “Let me get this straight,” I said, propping a hand on my hip. “He agreed to be in my wedding, then he decided not to come because his girlfriend of four weeks has something she wants him to do?”

Megan crossed the room and placed a hand on my arm. “Josh has told me stories of Noah’s epic fails in the past, but he hasn’t acted like this since I’ve known him. He’s taken on so much responsibility with the merger of their dad’s company, but Josh really did think he had changed.”

I swiped at a tear on my cheek. This wedding might not be real, but Noah still should have been here for me. The overwhelming grief I felt over his absence caught me by surprise.

But what did it matter if we were short a groomsman? It wasn’t like the wedding was going to take place. After all, there was no way the curse would strike for both Megan and Blair and miss me. My knight in shining armor—my one true love, my soul mate—would show up at any minute to sweep me off my feet and marry me before my birthday on Tuesday.

Only I had no earthly idea who he might be. The only thing I knew was what the lines on my palm told me—he was creative and would shower me with the love I’d longed for my entire life.

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. What if this didn’t work?

“What do you want to do?” Blair asked, her jaw set. She’d barely tolerated Noah in the past, so these shenanigans weren’t bound to make her any fonder of him.

But while I was upset about him bailing on me, the fact that one hundred people were sitting in that church, waiting for me to walk down the aisle was starting to sink in.

What the hell was I going to do?

Faith. I just needed more faith. I’d had enough faith for Megan and Blair when their lives and weddings had begun to fall apart. Since they hadn’t seemed to understand what was really going on as it was happening, I’d needed to have enough faith in the curse for all three of us.

I gave them a dazzling smile. “Go ahead with the wedding, of course.”

“What about the missing groomsman?” Megan asked.

I shrugged. I refused to show my friends how upset I was that Noah wasn’t there. “Have Josh stand in for him.” I gave him a pointed glance, disappointment seeping into my voice. “Haven’t you spent most of your adult life cleaning up his messes? What’s one more?”

“Oh, Libby.” Megan carefully threw her arms around me and my wedding dress. “I’m so sorry.”

I pulled loose. “I’m okay. I should have known better. I just thought he was beyond this sort of thing.”

“We all did.”

“Does that mean you’re ready?” Blair asked, holding out my wildflower bouquet.

“I guess.”

My response drew worried glances from my friends, but I was too busy trying to figure out what I would do if the curse didn’t work.

No. No. No. Stop thinking like that. I just had to believe.

I reached for the bouquet and took a deep breath. When I released it, serenity washed through me. This was going to work.

It had to.

Megan gave Josh a lingering kiss, then stepped back and smoothed his lapel, staring into his face with adoration and love. Both Blair and I had been jealous of their connection, even if neither of us had ever admitted it. But Blair had found that same deep love and contentment with Garrett. Where was my soulmate?

Josh left to get the groom and the best man up to the altar while we waited for our cue. The door flew open again, this time with more force, and my mother waltzed in with a theatrical flounce. “They’re ready for you, my princess.”

Irritation set me on edge, quickly followed by a stab of guilt as I studied my mother. Gabriella St. Clair was a stunningly beautiful woman. Her rich, dark brown hair was thick and long, and her olive complexion was flawless and nearly wrinkle-free, even though she had to be close to fifty years old, not that she’d ever admit to it. It’s true—I had no idea how old my mother was since she would never admit to the year of her birth. Not that it mattered. Gabriella St. Clair’s face and body defied time, and she and I were often mistaken for sisters.

And there was the rub. Gabriella preferred to be seen as my sister rather than my mother and often did her best to make sure she was the center of attention. Even now—wearing a form-fitting white dress with a deep V-neck that showed off her ample cleavage—Gabriella St. Clair would not be relegated to the background.

She glided over to me and grabbed my hand in a dramatic flourish. “You are by far the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

I gritted my teeth. “Thank you, Momma.”

“I’m still not sure that boy out there is right for you.”

That was one of the few things we agreed upon, except Gabriella thought I shouldn’t marry at all.

“Thank you for your concern, Momma.”

My mother patted my cheek and looked into my eyes. “No talking you out of it?”

I released a short laugh. At this point, if either of my friends told me this was crazy and encouraged me to back out of it, I’d probably do it in a heartbeat. But hearing my mother say it was a whole other thing. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Well, nothing’s forever, sweetheart.” Gabriella shot a wicked glance to Blair. “And you already have a divorce attorney on retainer.”

Blair’s mouth opened as if on a hinge, but Gabriella was already sweeping out of the room.

Blair’s dark gazed followed her out of the room. “I can’t believe her!”

I shook my head, my anxiety rising. “It’s my mother. What do you expect?” I took a breath. “It’s time to start.”

Megan took a step toward me. “Maybe you should take a moment.”

“I don’t care what she thinks. We’ve known she’s a narcissistic bitch since before I found her and my first boyfriend screwing on our kitchen counter. Why would anything change in the last fifteen years?”

“Oh, Libs…” Megan said softly.

Megan’s sweetness was nearly my undoing. “Forget my mother. There are bigger things to worry about. I have a date with destiny.”

My friends gave me a strange look, but I pushed them both toward the door, not giving them time to respond.

We waited in the church lobby, listening for the musical cue to start down the aisle. Blair went first, followed by Megan. And soon, the music switched to the song Mitch had picked for me walk down the aisle—the Razorback fight song. I’d agreed to everything he’d asked for, never once thinking the wedding would progress this far.

I cast a worried glance toward the front door of the church, wondering where in the hell my soulmate could be. After a good twenty seconds, long enough for the guests in the church to start murmuring in confusion, I realized he wasn’t going to come walking through the door.

Which meant he had to be inside the church.

Relief washed over me at that thought, which was enough to get me through the door and propel me down the aisle. My gaze swept the crowd, looking for my Prince Charming, but the only real candidate I came up with was Mitch’s Uncle Earl—a forty-two-year-old confirmed bachelor and wholesale fish salesman down in Louisiana. He was a good seventy-five pounds overweight, and during the rehearsal dinner, Megan, Blair, and I had decided he wore a toupee. He gave me a leering smile when he realized my gaze had landed on him. Then he licked his upper lip, as if he’d just spotted a particularly succulent catfish.

I’d rather marry Mitch.

But Mitch really wasn’t so bad. My friends liked him. And if I could learn to overlook the football fanaticism, he was sweet. Sure, I had done my level best to keep Blair from marrying a man she didn’t love, but there was no denying that Mitch was a better partner than Neil could ever be. Still, I couldn’t fool myself into thinking I was head over heels in love. After I’d announced my short engagement, Blair and Megan had quizzed me endlessly about my decision. I must have performed the role of the gushing bride-to-be a little too well, because I’d convinced them this was what I wanted. But if I went through with it, it would be until death do us part. While I might know the best divorce attorney in the universe, I’d never let it come to that.

Unlike my mother, I believed marriage was for keeps.

So… what was I doing?

Maybe my white knight hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe he’d gotten lost in traffic. I just had to keep going and believe it would all work out.

But as I climbed the two steps up the altar, panic clawed in my chest. Have faith, I repeated in my head. Just have faith.

Mitch waited for me, wearing his black tux with his University of Arkansas tie. He lifted his pants leg to reveal his Razorback socks. “Ehh?” He grinned as he dropped it. “You’re gonna be the perfect wife, Libby,” he whispered. “What other bride would let the groom finish watching a football game before the ceremony?” Then he winked and nudged me with his elbow. “We won! Twenty-three to twenty-one! Go, Hogs!” he shouted, following up with a victory whoop—“Wooo Pig Sooooie!!!”—that his friends joined in from the pews.

Megan and Blair’s eyes flew open in shock.

Welcome to the real Mitch.

My anxiety ratcheted up five notches.

Why couldn’t Megan and Blair read between the lines and realize I wasn’t in love with him? I had recognized all the signs with the both of them. Were they so eager for me to settle down that they’d give their approval to anyone?

I decided to ignore the fact that I’d proposed to him. My lame attempt to get the curse rolling.

Lost in my thoughts, I was shocked to hear the minister ask, “Mitch, would you like to read your vows?”

Oh, shit. We were already to the vows?

Mitch cleared his throat and reached into his jacket and pulled out a white paper. After carefully unfolding it, he held it up for everyone to see.

Oh, my God. It’s a play diagram.

Sure enough, the paper was covered with circles and x’s, big sweeping lines and arrows. “Libs, you and me are like when the Razorbacks played Kansas in the Cotton Bowl in 2012. The Razorbacks hadn’t beaten the Jayhawks since 1967. They used this quarterback sneak play.” He held it against his chest and pointed to it. “And do you know what happened?”

I stared at him in shock. What was happening?

“They whooped some Jayhawk ass and became the Cotton Bowl champions!”

Then Mitch and his friends let out another Woo Pig Sooie.

Had it been possible to die from embarrassment, I would have collapsed to the floor at that very moment.

“That’s us, baby. You and me. We’ll whoop ass and lead our team to victory. You, me, and all our little half-backs.” When I didn’t answer, he mistook my horror for confusion. “You know. Our kids,” he added with a wink.

His friends in the audience let loose another Hogs call.

The minister gaped for several seconds before closing his mouth and swallowing. “Uh… Libby, do you have vows?”

Oh, my God. This was way past cold feet. This bordered on insanity.

“No.”

Mitch lowered his paper, confusion in his eyes.

“No?” The minister’s eyebrows shot up. “Would you prefer to recite the traditional vows after me?”

I glanced back at Megan and Blair, who stood frozen in shock, then turned to face the minister. “No.”

Mitch blinked. “What’s wrong with my little running back? Did you forget your vows?”

Running back… run… If I didn’t get out of here, I was going to jump out of my skin. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I can’t do this.” I grabbed my full skirt in one hand and took off down the aisle for the exit.

“Libs?” Mitch called out. “Are you goin’ out for a pass?”

I glanced over my shoulder, ignoring the horrified stares of the guests. “I’m passing all right.” I ran out the doors, Megan and Blair fast on my heels as I fought my rising hysteria.

Oh, God. The curse had failed me, and I’d just run out of my own wedding.

“Libby,” Megan called after me, but I raced toward the parking lot without slowing.

Guests streamed out the double doors, Mitch in the lead.

“Libby! Where’re you goin’?” he called after me.

What was I going to do? I had no purse. No car keys. In fact, my mother had driven me to the church. I had nowhere to hide. Humiliated beyond belief, I was like a rat trapped in a maze, only there was no piece of cheese waiting for me. No perfect soulmate waiting in the wings. Only more humiliation.

A car pulled into the parking lot, and before I could stop to consider what I was doing, I bolted for it. The car slowed down, the driver probably stunned by the spectacle, but I saw an opportunity and took it. Opening the passenger door, I glanced down at the bouquet in my hand. Without thinking, I tossed it toward the wedding guests congregating on the lawn.

Megan’s grandmother’s eyes lit up. “That bouquet’s mine, bitches!” She leapt for it just as one of my college friends grabbed it too.

Gram tackled the younger woman to the ground and a wrestling match began.

My eyes still on the melee, I slid into the car. “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you get me out of here right now.”

Half the guests had spilled out onto the lawn now, and Mitch stood in the front, looking dazed and confused.

What had I done? I’d been so certain activating the curse would lead me to the man of my dreams that I’d ignored the little voice in my head whispering that I was callously using Mitch. But now the proof of my selfishness was literally staring me in the face.

“Only a hundred?” an amused voice answered. “My plane ticket cost more than that.”

I gasped in relief when I recognized the voice of the driver next to me. But then I remembered he’d stood me up.

Noah McMillan was a dead man.