Page 112 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“I don’t know, Emmett scared him pretty good the day I went and got my things.”

I look up to Cap, who has a well-earned prideful smile on his face. “Damn right I did.”

He kisses my head, which earns “awws” from Ainsley, Maeve, and Charlie, and a groan from Simon.

“Enough already,” Simon says. “Maeve. Please tell us there is something exciting in the world of interior design so we can change the subject.”

Maeve shakes her head as she finishes a deviled egg. “Notreally. Men get divorced. Men move to the city and need their new condos decorated. Rinse and repeat.”

Leave it to Maeve to completely undersell what she does. Maeve is one of the most sought-after interior designers and decorators in Nashville. And while she doesn’t just decorate spaces for men, that’s become her specialty. Rich men with no design sense but wanting a luxury condo or mansion to bring their new, often younger, girlfriends home to equals big bucks for my super-talented sister.

“She’s lying,” Ainsley says. “She has a mystery client coming at the end of the month that she doesn’t know anything about.”

Maeve shoots Ainsley a look. “I told you not to say anything.”

“Well, then you told the wrong sister,” she says. “You know I can’t keep a secret.”

“Spill,” I tell Ainsley. “Everything that she told you so I can figure out who he is.”

“Good luck,” Ainsley says. “I tried. All she knows is that her budget is unlimited. And it’s not just a condo in the city. It’s a freaking mansion in Franklin. Like, next to the country stars’ houses.”

“Oh he’s rich rich,” I say. “And you don’t know who?”

Maeve lets out a sigh, clearly hating that she has to talk about it. “I don’t know and I don’t care. His assistant sent me his color preferences, and I have the specs of the house. I don’t even have the exact address, just that it’s in Franklin and I’m to meet with him at the end of the month. They’ll send me the details the day of the consult.”

“Oh that’s exciting!” I say. “And I’ll find out. I’ll dust off my social media stalking skills for you. It’s been a minute since I’ve had someone to investigate.”

The six of us start talking over each other, trying to guess who the mystery client is. Well, the four women do. I think Emmett and Simon have branched off into talk about Tennessee football. We’re laughing, drinking, Emmett isstealing the occasional kiss, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier.

This. This is it. This is what I wanted. A man who blends with my family. Me happy with my love life and getting to be with my sisters and family. Having a job I’m happy with, where I feel like I’m contributing in my own way. I don’t know how it gets any more perfect than this.

“Are those police sirens?” Maeve asks as the distinct sound approaches our house. And not just one—it sounds like a convoy.

No one says anything else as we all stand and go walk through the fence and into the front yard. My mom and dad follow as Maddie hangs in the back with Jack and Jayce.

As soon as we step onto the front lawn we see that it’s three cars lining the driveway. Two of them are Rolling Hills police cars, and one is an unmarked car.

What the hell is going on?

“Shane? What the fuck?”

That comes from Simon, who approaches Officer Shane Cunningham, one of his closest friends who he grew up with.

“I’m just here for support,” he says in a near whisper. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“Well then who the fuck does it have to do with?”

“Stella Banks?”

All eyes turn toward the Temu version of the guy from CSI, aviators and all. My blood goes cold as it sets in that he said my name.

I take a step forward, but not before I feel Emmett’s hand on my back as he steps with me. “I’m Stella Banks.”

“We need you to come with us.”

“Just hold on there one second,” Dad says as he walks in front of me. “I’m William Banks, her father and attorney. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Sir, you can accompany her if you’d like, but we need her to come with us.”

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