Page 170 of Make the Play

Logan gives her a look, adjusting the tiara with two fingers. “You’re not helping.”

“I never said I was.”

“You’re supposed to be the celebrant. My wife-to-be was switched on me without my consent.”

She shrugs. “Plans change. You heard the sparkle boss.”

Logan closes his eyes slowly. “Lulu.”

She blinks, all innocence. “Yes, husband?”

A strangled sound comes from Eli’s direction, and I watch as Tamara’s hand flies out to grip his forearm, restraining him on instinct.

“Don’t make me commit a crime,” he says calmly.

“Oh, relax,” Lulu says, reaching for a piece of fruit. “I’d never marry a man with beige bedsheets.”

“I donothave—” Logan’s voice cracks. “You don’t even—they’reoff-white. Cool toned.”

Jake barks out a laugh. “Oh no, my guy. That’s worse.”

Logan turns back to Lulu, flustered. “You wore a shirt last week that saidMake ‘Em Cry in a Miniskirt.I don’t think you’re allowed to judge me.”

She sips her mimosa and shrugs. “And yet here we are, almost married.”

Meadow reappears moments later with a stuffed bunny, a half-eaten croissant, and the look of a girl with a vision.

“Okay,” she declares, climbing onto a chair. “Everyone, be quiet. It’s time for the ceremony.”

Logan looks up again, face completely stricken. “Wait, what?”

Meadow points at him, suddenly a mini general giving orders. “Stay next to Lulu. You’re the prince. She’s the sparkle queen.”

“Oh my god,” Logan mutters. “I’m in a fever dream.”

“Say your vows,” Meadow demands.

Lulu, completely unfazed, turns to face Logan with a solemn expression. “I promise to keep you in line, improve your wardrobe, and never let you leave the house with unblended sunscreen again.”

Logan stares at her, mouth slightly open. “That was specific.”

“I take marriage seriously,” she says sweetly.

Reid snorts into his coffee. “This is the best brunch I’ve ever been forced to attend.”

Chase leans closer to my ear. “If she makes Logan kiss her, Eli’s gonna combust.”

I hum with a nod, my eyes flicking to Eli, who looks as though he’s trying very hard to remember this is all a show constructed by a child under five years of age.

“I’m waiting,” Meadow says, arms crossed now. “Say your vows, Mr. Prince.”

Logan runs a hand down his face. “I swear to be confused by everything you say, overwhelmed by everything you wear, and terrified of your brother until the day I die.”

“Perfect,” Lulu sighs. “I’m so moved.”

“I’m sodone,” Eli mutters.

“Do you promise?” Meadow asks, hands clasped together.

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