WED OR ALIVE

Chapter Two

“Not this again.” I rubbed a palm across my forehead. We’d had to deal with a groom with cold feet—who also could not stop nervously washing his hands—at our last wedding. Luckily for that bride, we’d managed to talk her intended off the ledge and convince him to go through with the ceremony before he buffed the skin off his hands.

Fern joined us on the pool deck.

“Why are you in prison stripes?” Richard asked, sizing up Fern’s outfit with his arms crossed.

Fern touch...