Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
At one point, the priest called the parents of the bride and groom up to the altar to light candles. The man who reminded me of Tate rose, along with Taylor’s mom and stepfather, and all three of them lit the groom’s candle. My stomach twisted. Holy shit. That guy was Taylor’s father!
I recalled Taylor saying once that his dad was “annoyingly good-looking.” And now I knew what he meant—at least from the back, because I’d yet to see his face.
With each second that passed, as Taylor’s parents stood at the altar, I became more paranoid. It couldn’t be, right? I mean, that would be the craziest thing. I frantically opened the program to find the names of those in the bridal party, including the groom’s parents.
The Wedding of Taylor Edward Shea and Juliana Elaina Alves
I looked down at the family members listed.
Mother of the Groom: Shayla Lively
Stepfather of the Groom: Stephen Lively
Father of the Groom: Theodore Delaney
I’d always known Taylor had taken his mother’s last name. He’d never actually told me his dad’s name, and I’d never asked since it was such a sore subject.
Theodore—not Tate.
Phew.
Shit! Looking down at the program, I had missed my chance to see his dad’s face as they returned to their seats from the altar.
You’d think my panic would’ve dissipated after learning his dad’s name was Theodore, yet another rush of adrenaline hit as I recalled Tate’s struggles with his son. In retrospect, it sounded a hell of a lot like Taylor’s struggles with his father. I couldn’t believe I’d never connected those two situations, but why would I? Until now, when the back of Taylor’s dad’s head had triggered me.
The room began to sway. I had no idea how many minutes had passed. I totally missed the vows, stuck in my head trying to work this out, trying to reassure myself that there was no way my theory could be true. Every time I convinced myself I was out of my mind, another frightening hypothesis would hit.
What if Tate had given me a fake name?
But he’d never mentioned anything about his family owning the resort. I knew it was Taylor’s grandparents on his father’s side who owned Midnight Key. Even when things were rocky with his dad, Taylor had always been close with his grandparents.
Surely Tate would’ve mentioned it if his parents had owned the resort, right?
What about that woman he knew? Langley. I’d never forget her name. Weird that he’d run into someone he knew at the resort…unless maybe he’d been there before.
Okay. Think. Tate never said his family owned the resort—but he never said they didn’t. We just never discussed it.
Oh my God.
What if?
I needed to see this man’s face.
I needed to know.
But how?
I didn’t want him to see me.
There was another entrance to the sanctuary closer to the front. If I snuck out the main entrance behind me right now and reentered through that other door, I’d have the correct angle to see his face.
Though some soloist was singing, I grabbed my purse and tiptoed out of the church. Once outside, I walked around to the side of the large stone structure.
As cars on the main road whizzed by, my heart pounded. Once I turned the corner to the quieter street where the side entrance was located, I could hear my blood rushing in my ears.
When I got to that side door, my pulse picked up yet again, as it was locked.
Fuck!
A brisk wind blew my hair around then lifted my skirt. I nearly gave a passing car a free show.
What now?
For several minutes, I tried the door periodically to see if by some miracle it opened. I felt like a crazy person. I’d just left my best friend’s wedding and was now trying to break back into the ceremony from another door because I worried his father might be Tate. It sounded crazy.
And the door wouldn’t budge. I had no choice but to go back inside through the main entrance. I’d just have to wait for the family of the groom to make their way down the aisle after the ceremony. Maybe I could move to a seat away from the aisle to make myself less noticeable.
When I returned to the foyer, though, Taylor and Juliana were already standing in a receiving line, along with the entire wedding party and their parents. I must’ve been outside longer than I’d thought, and the ceremony was over.
My heart lodged in my throat as I stood near the entrance, observing the line. And I felt all the air leave my body as I got my first look at him.
Please make it make sense.
Standing next to Taylor’s mother was Tate. Definitely my Tate. The lost-love-of-my-life Tate. The man I could never get over, the man who still lived in my dreams, was Taylor’s father.