Lost in her thoughts, she was shocked to hear the minister ask, “Mitch, would you like to read your vows?”
Oh, shit. They 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?”
She 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, she 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 she didn’t answer, he mistook her 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?”
She 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 she didn’t get out of here, she was going to jump out of her skin. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I can’t do this.” She grabbed her 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?”
She glanced over her shoulder, ignoring the horrified stares of the guests. “I’m passing all right.” She ran out the doors, Megan and Blair fast on her heels as she fought her rising hysteria.
Oh, God. The curse had failed her, and she’d just run out of her own wedding.
“Libby,” Megan called after her, but she raced toward the parking lot without slowing.
Guests had begun streaming out the double doors, Mitch in the lead.
“Libby? Where’re you goin’?” he called after her.
What was she going to do? She had no purse. No car keys. In fact, her mother had driven her to the church. She had nowhere to hide. Humiliated beyond belief, she was like a rat trapped in a maze, only there was no piece of cheese waiting for her. No perfect soul mate waiting in the wings. Only more humiliation.
A car pulled into the parking lot, and before she could stop to consider what she was doing, she bolted for it. The car slowed down, the driver probably stunned by the spectacle. She saw an opportunity and took it. Opening the passenger door, she glanced down at the bouquet in her hand. Without thinking, she 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 Libby’s college friends grabbed it too.
Gram tackled the younger woman to the ground and a wrestling match began.
Her eyes still on the melee, Libby 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 she done? She’d been so certain activating the curse would lead her to the man of her dreams that she’d ignored the little voice in her head whispering that she was callously using Mitch. But now the proof of her selfishness was literally staring her in the face.
“Only a hundred?” an amused voice answered. “My plane ticket cost more than that.”
Libby gasped in relief when she recognized the voice of the driver next to her. But then she remembered he’d stood her up.
Noah McMillan was a dead man.
Chapter Two
Noah McMillan had known more than his share of women. He’d dated plenty in high school, but it wasn’t until college that he started plowing his way through too many women to count. And while his easy-come-easy-go lifestyle had continued after graduation, it wasn’t until his younger brother Josh joined the family business that he gave up all pretense of giving a shit.
Why should he bother when Josh gave a shit enough for the both of them?
He knew he was a disappointment to his brother and mother, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make an effort. The truth was, he’d stopped caring about much of anything after his father died a week before he graduated college.
So he’d fumbled along for more than a decade, knowing that he and his brother both had their roles. Josh was the responsible one. Noah was the joke. And Noah played his part well—perhaps too well. He was the one who’d almost made them lose their business.
There was no denying that Noah had lost the plans for an esoteric part that Josh had created for solar panels after indulging in a one-night stand at a conference. A part that would breathe new life into their flailing business. But he hadn’t given it another thought until their patent was denied and their big investor threatened to pull his funding unless the McMillan brothers sorted out the problem within a week. It didn’t take much tracking to figure out which firm had submitted an application for the same patent a mere week before they did.