“I’m Lyric,” the police officer says.
“Aspen’s fiancé?”
He nods as he offers his hand. “I’m also the Chief of Police.”
His hand squeezes mine to the point of pain. “Message received.”
The would-be kidnapper shakes my hand next. “Cole. Ellery’s fiancé and baby daddy.”
Baby daddy? Juniper’s going to be an aunt? She never told me. Of course, there’s a lot she hasn’t told me considering I’m sitting across from three men who are involved with her sisters, and she never said a word to me about them.
“And I’m Ashlyn’s husband,” Rowan announces.
“The only one who could close the deal.”
He smirks in response.
Lyric’s eyes narrow on Rowan. “Yeah, because he snuck off to Vegas. Aspen’s mom is pissed. There’s no way the rest of the sisters will elope.”
Cole bumps Lyric’s shoulder. “But the chief has tried to drag Aspen off to Vegas more than once.”
Lyric frowns at him. “And you haven’t tried to convince Ellery to sneak off to the courthouse to get married? Don’t think I don’t know you applied for a marriage license.”
“Small town gossip,” Cole grumbles under his breath. “She’s eight months pregnant. I want her to have my name before the baby’s born. I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”
“Dude, you literally got engaged a week ago. Give it time.”
Cole frowns at Rowan. “What’s with the dude-thing? Are we surfers now?”
“Sorry, Ashlyn’s rubbing off on me.” He waggles his brows. “Although, I don’t mind her rubbing on me.”
Lyric reaches across the table and slaps his shoulder. “You’re talking about my sister.”
“Speaking of sisters,” Rowan begins.
“What the hell are you doing with Juniper?” Cole jumps in.
I rub my hand down my face. “I messed up.”
Lyric shakes his head at me. “Ya think?”
I cringe. “It’s not how it seemed.”
Rowan growls. “You weren’t seen with another woman the day after you slept with Juniper?”
My chin drops to my chest in defeat. “It was a publicity stunt.”
He scoffs. “You should know better.”
I want to lash out at him, but if there’s anyone who understands how it feels to be under a microscope twenty-four/seven, it’s him. I sigh. “I know.”
“Doesn’t look like a publicity stunt to me.” Lyric passes me his phone, and I watch as the footage of the worst day of my life unfolds.
I’m holding the actress Quinn Wilder in my arms before I bend her backwards and lay a kiss on her. I always did have a flair for the dramatic – I am an actor after all – but I took it too far. I didn’t need to kiss her to make the paparazzi believe we were together. The video ends, and I drop the phone on the table.
“I’m an idiot.”
“If you’re waiting for anyone to disagree with you, you’re going to be waiting a long ass time,” the bartender says as he sets a pitcher of beer and four glasses on the table.