Page 1 of One Weekend On Mackinac Island

Chapter 1

Kat

The boat rocked backand forth with an intense force, causing my body to sway uncontrollably. I gripped onto the sticky, weathered vinyl of the bench seat, feeling its rough texture beneath my fingertips. The pungent smell of fish lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of diesel fumes. As my heart raced, the rhythmic thumping echoed loudly in my ears, intensifying the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

My brother was to blame for this.

Okay. That’s not completely fair. Todd was fulfilling his fiancée’s lifelong dream by orchestrating the wedding she had always envisioned. And since his beautiful bride was my best friend, I couldn’t fault him for that.

Although I was excited about the wedding, I would have preferred a more accessible location, one that didn't require traveling by boat to an island in the middle of one of the Great Lakes. The ferry ride to Mackinac Island was supposed to be a scenic and enjoyable experience. With promises of stunning views of the crystal-clear turquoise waters of Lake Huron, the gentle sway of the boat, and the refreshing breeze, the tourist guides build anticipation for a unique island adventure.

What they don’t tell you about is what happens when storms are encroaching. The sky and the water both become increasingly gray, merging into a single, shadowy expanse that makes it impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. Waves were growing, and the ferryboat, along with my stomach, bobbed violently in the increasingly rough water.

The mental picture of the ferry capsizing sent a tidal wave of anxiety crashing over me, unleashing the chilling memories I had fought so hard to bury. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed my palms against my face, desperate to block out the unwanted images that flooded my vision.

Lost in my own personal torment, I was completely oblivious to the individual who had taken a seat next to me until his resonant voice broke through the cacophony that was raging in my ears.

“Hey, Kit. Are you ready for this wedding?”

My eyes popped open as recognition struck, then I inwardly groaned. Owen Stanton. My brother’s best friend. Bane of my existence. His charm was undeniable, his maddening presence a constant torment, yet he remained unattainable, a phantom my heart couldn't release.

He sat next to me on the bench seat, his large and powerfully built frame taking up a disproportionate amount of the available space. The brown suede jacket, which I had once coveted as a teenager, fit snugly against his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to my memory of it. He wasn’t a boy anymore. With a light layer of scruff covering his square jaw, he looked rugged and handsome . . . and all man.

“Kit?”

The nitwit.The sting of his insult lingered, and I couldn't stop my mind from reconstructing the scene, playing the cruel words over and over. I was fourteen years old, while he was sixteen. A girl on the cusp of finding her courage to approach the boy she’d crushed on for years. I had intended to share my deepest emotions, but before I could lay myself bare, I was met with cruelty, and my heart was shattered. His words, sharp and cruel, echo in my mind to this day, even though I had only heard them once.

Kit the nitwit.

Owen was the only one to call me Kit instead of Kat. I foolishly imagined that he felt something different about me, that I held a unique place in his heart. I would smile whenever he used that nickname, savoring those moments of playful affection. Until I heard it paired with the insult. What was once a sweet and endearing nickname, "Kit," now caused me to shrink back in revulsion, producing a physical cringe with each utterance.

“What,” I growled, the nickname a sharp, unwelcome echo in my mind causing my teeth to grind against each other.

His brow furrowed as he registered my unfriendly response. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, making me squirm under the weight of his scrutiny. The gray blue of his eyes was unwavering, and the intensity of his stare made me feel like he was seeing right through me. My heart clenched with regret, the sting of my unkind tone lingering.

Years had passed since we last met, and the first words that escaped my lips were a harsh whisper of anger. That wasn’t like me.

“I asked if you were excited for the weekend?” he replied, his voice laced with amusement, obviously letting me off the hook for my uncalled for attitude.

“Of course. This wedding has been a long time coming.”

“It has.” The anticipation of our friends’ upcoming nuptials brought a shared smile to our faces. But his next words had my smile slipping. “I understand we’ll be working closely together this weekend.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the maid of honor, right?” I nodded. “And since I’m the best man, our job is to make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch.”

“So, how does that translate into us needing to work closely together?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you did. That’s just what Tria told me.”

Ugh. Tria. My best friend and brother’s fiancée. She’d always known of my foolish crush on Owen. This was her, meddling again. Her delirious happiness with Todd led her to believe that everyone else should be as happy as she was.

“I’m not sure there will be much left for us to do. There's no need for close collaboration.”

Owen shrugged before shifting in his seat to face the front. “If you say so.”

I would have replied with something snarky but at that moment, the ferry pulled away from the dock. The rocking of the boat became more pronounced as the angry waves slammed against it, producing a rhythmic, yet unsettling, creaking sound. A cry of dismay threatened to break free from my lips asmy fingers, again, gripped the edge of my seat with mounting tension.

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