The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) by Suzanne Halliday Page B

contortion. “Julie’s afraid of her. Always has been. Luckily, balding accountants who drive sensible cars aren’t on her to-do list.”
    Her to-do list. Shit, that is funny!
    Chuck offered his two cents. “The wife thinks she shits popsicles.”
    A collective groan rose from the assembled group.
    “Which is exactly why Stan is her escort. He hates everybody, right Stan?”
    Stan snorted his agreement. “Yep. And my old lady’ll knock her fucking Kylie Jenner lips right off her damn face if she so much as burps out loud.”
    While every word spoken about Tara was valid, Kyle went poker-faced when the bitching broke out. Ryan sighed. Shit . Didn’t matter if she was a black-hearted creature with dead lovers hanging from her razor claws. The woman was Andi’s business partner and a big part of why their design company hit the success jackpot. Everyone, even the most detested individual, generally had a redeeming quality or two. In Tara’s case, she was a PR genius, and her business acumen was on point. And Kyle was the sort to put loyalty above snark any day of the week.
    Ryan would do anything for Ky. They really were as close as brothers, if not more so because they didn’t have the baggage of parental favoritism hanging over their relationship. But handling Tara one-on-one was a task he was supremely unsuited for. And Kyle knew why.
    Staying clear of the woman’s poisonous fumes was one thing. But wrapping cotton wool around the guy’s bad attitude was another—so he stepped up and gave it a shot.
    Best man. Yeah. Whoopee.
    “We only have a few minutes until the family circus descends.”
    Chairs began to shuffle as they all stood up and pulled it together. This was the only chance he’d get to bring it home for Kyle.
    “Listen, you’ve all been down this road already. Each one of you guys knows how quickly a bride melts down if the napkins don’t match the tablecloths. This is about Andi and what she wants.”
    Smacking his cousin good-naturedly on the back, Ryan moved his hand to Ky’s shoulder and held on.
    “Not only that, gentlemen, but the eyes of the golf media are also on the shindig, so let’s do my man a proper here,” he drawled satirically, “and give him a peaceful wedding. No grudge matches. No practical jokes. No ladies wrestling. Got it?”
    Chuck laughed loudest; his mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “Only time in his life that he’s guaranteed a hole in one.”
    Kyle slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned miserably while all the rest of them cracked up laughing. The suggestive hand gestures and ass-whacking pantomime thankfully ended mere seconds before Uncle Burt appeared out of nowhere to let them know everyone was beginning to gather in the restaurant.
    At the word restaurant, Ryan’s stomach growled loudly. He needed to eat something and soon before all this best man shit shot his good mood in the foot. Problem-solving and playacting were infinitely easier to deal with on a full stomach.

    “Now, don’t smile,” barked the pudgy photographer who strongly resembled the softhearted super villain from a kid’s movie he did some graphics for. Everyone else on the planet might be drawing minions, but Ryan had been an instant fan of Gru.
    He slid unnoticed to the side so he could watch the photo shoot unfolding across the room. Gathered in a close semi-circle behind a radiant Andi, the bridal party and both mothers stood arm-in-arm as the photographer snapped away.
    A double helping of P’s and Q’s along with the sense of decorum his mother’s watchful presence demanded compelled Ryan to take a long moment to observe the star of this wedding event.
    Andi looked amazing. Because she was sitting, he couldn’t make out what she was wearing beyond the dark blue color, but it didn’t matter. She could be decked out in a paper bag and still look fabulous. He supposed it was the fearsome power of the unbridled happiness he found shining in her eyes that gave her such a luminous