Page 24 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

“Ah, yes. Rachel Stafford, right here on the list. I just sat the rest of your party. Right this way.” The man turns and starts weaving in and out of the tables, some of them filled with people and others with only a couple of guests.

I try to catch up to him to explain that’s not my name, when he gestures to an empty seat at a table of people.

“Here you are, miss,” he says, holding the chair out for me. I blow out a breath and sit down, allowing him to scoot me in. I don’t have it in me to argue.

It’s not until I glance up that I pause. Familiar chocolate brown eyes meet mine and I’m pretty sure time has frozen, for the second time this week.

“Rachelle? What are you doing here?” Landon says, looking just as surprised as I feel.

“Is that the only thing you know how to say these days?” I say, scooting back. I need to find another table. Did someone rig this? Am I on one of those hidden camera things? Because I’m not laughing right now.

What are the chances Landon would be on the same cruise ship I am and that the host sat me at this table? Obviously, he mistook me for someone else.

“It seems you know Landon,” a woman next to me says, a faint French accent tracing her words. Turning, I recognize the woman from the deck. Sitting next to her is the man she linked arms with. “Are you with the Hamilton Group?”

I shake my head, willing back tears. Of course, I can’t enjoy a trip without thoughts of him or seeing his face everywhere I go.

Wait, is it because I’ve been thinking about him since paint balling and the underwear incident that I practically willed him on the boat? Oh, karma, please be kind.

“No, I, uh, won this trip.”

“But what are the odds you see someone you know on board?” She smiles at me and I relax a bit. “I’m Isabella Hamilton and this is Roman, my husband. What’s your name?”

The waiter walks up with another woman trailing him. “I apologize, miss. I believe I’ve seated you with the wrong table. This is Rachel Stafford.” He turns, motioning to the woman.

I stand, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “Where should I go?” At least this will give me a break to process the fact that Landon is on the ship.

“Excuse me, sir,” Isabella says, her hand in the air to get his attention. “I believe we have room at our other table. Why don’t you have Rachel sit there? We’ll keep—” she gestures to me, waiting for an answer.

“Rachelle Stewart.”

Isabella smiles and turns back to the man. “We’ll keep Rachelle here so she won’t be alone.”

Why did she have to point that out and in front of Landon?

The waiter nods and helps the real Rachel to her seat.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t need to take up one of your spots.”

Isabella shakes her head. “Please stay.”

I give her a small smile and turn my gaze to the small menu in front of me. “Wait, did you say Isabelle or Isabella?”

“Isabell-a,” she says with a smile.

I nod. “Sorry, there was a woman named Isabelle at my sister’s wedding a few months ago but I never met her. The world can be small sometimes so I thought I’d ask.”

She shakes her head. “I haven’t been to any weddings in the States for a year or two. Not since Roman’s friend Evan married a wedding planner named Sadie.”

Another familiar voice calls out, and I’m hoping it’s Tiffany. But when I turn, I see Dani making her way toward the table.

“I see my party,” she says, calling back to the host, who’s trying to follow her.

She smiles as she nods to the people at the table. “Sorry, I’m Landon’s sister.”

“The one who obviously forgot her watch on this trip,” Landon says, chuckling. Oh, how I’ve missed that sound.

Nope. Not going to do this here. I need a steel will to make it through this trip. Maybe it’s not too late to jump ship and swim back to shore. Who am I kidding? I do a great doggy paddle, but I’d never survive that far.

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