“Tyler and Ellie aren’t really … together,” Shepley said.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? They’re together. They’re just not saying they’re together.”

“It’s been that way for a long time, Mare.”

“I know. Enough already.”

Shepley pulled my back against his chest and nuzzled my neck. “You forgot us.”

“Huh?”

“You forgot to say us. We’re getting along.”

I paused. Planning and organizing and making sure everything flowed smoothly had kept me busy. Aside from the reception at Sails, I’d barely seen Shepley. But he hadn’t once complained.

I touched his cheek. “We always get along.”

Shepley offered a half smile. “Travis has officially gotten married twice before the rest of us.”

“Trenton isn’t far behind.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They’re engaged, baby. I’m pretty sure.”

“They haven’t set a date.”

I smoothed my sheer black cover-up and pulled Shepley toward the beach. “Do you not approve?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird. She dated Thomas first. You just don’t do that.”

“Well, she did. And if she hadn’t, Trent wouldn’t be so happy.” I stopped at the edge of the sand, pointing to a small group of Maddoxes gathered at the water’s edge.

Travis was sitting on a white plastic lounge chair, puffing on a cigarette and staring across the ocean. Trenton and Camille were standing a few feet away from him, watching him with concerned expressions.

My stomach sank. “Oh, no. Oh, fuck.”

“I’m on it,” Shepley said, letting go of my hand to walk toward Travis.

“Fix it. I don’t care what you have to say or do … just fix it. They can’t fight on their honeymoon.”

Shepley waved back to me, letting me know that he had everything under control. His shoes flipped sand as he trudged to where his cousin sat. Travis looked devastated. I couldn’t imagine what might have happened between marital bliss just the night before and this morning.

Shepley sat with his feet planted between his chair and Travis’s, and he clasped his hands together. Travis didn’t move. He didn’t acknowledge Shepley. He just stared at the water.

“This is bad,” I whispered.

“What’s bad?” Abby asked, startling me. “Whoa. Jumpy this morning? What are you staring at? Where’s Shep?” She stretched her neck to look past me at the beach.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “That looks bad. Are you and Shepley fighting?”

I spun around. “No. Shepley went to find out what was wrong with Trav. You’re not? Fighting, I mean?”

Abby shook her head. “No. Pretty sure that’s not what anyone would call what he did to me all night. Wrestling maybe—”

“Did he say anything to you this morning?”

“He left before I woke up.”

“Now, he … he looks like that!” I said, pointing. “What the hell happened?”

“Why are you yelling?”

“I’m not yelling!” I took a breath. “I mean … I’m sorry. Everyone’s mad. I don’t want angry people at this wedding. I want happy people.”

“The wedding is over, Mare,” Abby said, patting my backside, as she passed. She strolled out to the beach.