Page 63 of Own the Eights Gets Married
He headed toward the other side when Mr. Rodent Royalty himself, waved him over.
“Dude, there’s a spot here,” Brice said, scooting over on the log bench.
For fuck’s sake! Was he going to have to sit next to Brice Casey? The douche who couldn’t even remember Georgie’s name and had brought Camille Pruitt and all her Straws baggage to his bridal boot camp?
So far, they’d been able to steer clear of the couple.
But not today.
He glanced around and found no other place to sit, then planted himself on the end of the bench next to the smiling prince of pest control.
Holy hell! Thanks a lot, wilderness gods!
He looked across the circle to see Camille Pruitt perched next to Georgie.
With the love of his life glaring at him and seated next to a woman who’d teased him about his skinny frame a decade ago, he blinked, taking it all in.
Was this hell?
“Isn’t this something?” Brice offered, then blew Camille a kiss—an actual air-kiss like children did from the school bus as they said goodbye to their parents or like some duck-lipped millennial social influencer.
“It is certainlysomething,” he replied.
Buck stood in the center of the circle as Syd handed a dry erase board and a marker to each of the men.
“Wilderness couples, get ready for some fun. We’re going to play How Well Do You Know Your Better Half.”
“Another contest? Awesome!” Brice announced with a fist pump in the air.
“We’ll be going off the questionnaires you filled out,” Syd continued.
“The couple with the most correct answers will win a night in the honeymoon yurt, and the couple with the least correct answers will spend the night out in the wilderness,” Buck finished.
Jordan frowned. “I thought we were already in the wilderness.”
Buck’s expression hardened. “The real wilderness, away from camp.”
There was arealwilderness? This wasn’t wilderness enough?
“First question, gentlemen. Name your special someone’s favorite book,” Syd began.
A spark of excitement ignited inside him. Now, he wanted to fist pump into the sky like a damn douche canoe. Instead, he wrote out the title of the book placed prominently on Georgie’s bookshelf at home.
Buck went down the line of men, asking for their response. One by one, the guys held up their dry erase boards with their answer. About half got it right, while the others got it wrong. His knee bounced as anticipation built, waiting for Buck to call on him.
He caught Georgie’s eye, and she smiled at him. Not a deranged pageant smile, but a genuine Georgie smile.
She could feel it, too.
Victory was within reach.
And even better than victory—that honeymoon yurt was going to be all theirs tonight, and boy, did he have a plan.
First, he’d give Georgie a solid six hours of sleep. But after that, it was going to be yurt sex city.
“Brice, hold up your board,” Buck directed.
The pest control VP grimaced and lifted his dry erase board with the wordsLittle House on the Prairiewritten in all caps.
