“Why should I brace myself? It’s wonderful that they were able to make it in time for the reception! Isn’t it?” The ache of her own father’s absence tightened her voice, and Ben had to force himself to uncurl his fingers from the fists that wanted to punch a hole through the gazebo wall. Because this was not going to be pretty. Stay cool, he told himself. He was going to need to be cool to get through the next hour. His parents were here, invading his private island haven, crashing the happiest day of his life—and he wasn’t going to be able to hide the truth from Merry. “Listen.” He turned to her, grasping her shoulders for emphasis. “When I said I invited my parents to our wedding, and they were sorry they couldn’t make it? I lied. I didn’t invite them. And they’re about to make both of us very sorry.” “Why wouldn’t you invite them?” she gasped. “And why would you lie about it?” “Because they’re horrible,” Ben said impatiently. “What, you think I turned out the way I am by accident?
