Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [97]
Okay, she was so not going there today. This was all about Faith, not her. The only setback in the wedding plans had occurred when Caine’s best man had to have emergency surgery two days ago and hadn’t been able to make the trip. Again with the number two. Megan and Faith’s paternal grandmother was dating crusty private investigator and retired cop Buddy Doyle, who’d stepped in as a last-minute replacement. Otherwise, everything was going smoothly.
Which was the way Megan liked it. Maybe it was the librarian in her wanting to keep things orderly. She didn’t subscribe to the chaos theory in life. To her way of thinking, things were always better when they were organized and categorized. Like this wedding . . .
“Are you ready?” Megan asked.
Faith nodded.
“Okay then.” Megan handed her the colorful Romanza bouquet of fresh, red-tipped roses and greenery. “Let’s go.”
Faith’s dad met them right outside the Venetian’s wedding chapel. This was no Elvis impersonator drive-through wedding location. This was the elegant side of Las Vegas.
Megan walked toward the front of the room to the accompaniment of Pachelbel’s Canon. There were about a dozen guests present.
Megan’s eyes teared up again when she saw the look of love on Caine’s face as he got his first view of his bride-to-be. The two of them were meant for each other.
The ceremony was simple but moving. The minister said, “I now pronounce you—”
The doors at the back of the chapel flew open and a man ran into the room to bark out an order. “Stop the wedding!”
Logan Doyle hadn’t slept in thirty-six hours. He’d just worked a double shift before hopping a plane to Vegas at his family’s insistence. Did they care that he was sleep-deprived? No. He had a job to do and they expected him to do it.
Logan stared at the people gathered at the front of the room. Two women, two men and a minister. The brunette in a black dress was the first to react. She marched up to him while the others momentarily stood in stunned silence.
“I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. You are not ruining my cousin’s wedding. She’s been through enough shinola. Leave right now.”
Shinola? Logan frowned. Who said shinola anymore? No one outside his grandfather’s age group.
“Gramps, you can’t do this,” Logan called out.
“Who are you calling Gramps?” the groom growled.
“Him.” Logan pointed to Buddy. “My grandfather, Buddy Doyle. I’m Logan. Logan Doyle.”
All eyes turned to Buddy, whose face was flushed. “You’re ruining my surprise.”
“What surprise?” Megan demanded. She was not having another wedding go down the drain. Her cousin deserved better.
“Ingrid has agreed to marry me,” Buddy said defiantly. “And we thought since we’re here in Las Vegas we’d tie the knot.”
“Wait your turn,” Megan growled. “This is Faith’s wedding. Faith and Caine’s. No one else’s.” She turned to the bemused minister. “Finish what you started.”
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” he said hastily. “You may kiss the bride.”
Everyone applauded while Caine took his time kissing his new bride.
“You two . . .” Megan grabbed Buddy’s arm with one hand and Logan’s with the other. “Come with me.”
She marched them both outside onto the nearby terrace with its soothing fountain. “Talk about stealing the limelight, Buddy. What were you thinking?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before turning her wrath on Logan. “And you. What were you thinking barging in the middle of a wedding and trying to stop it? What have you got against your grandfather getting married?”
“Who are you?” Logan said.
“I’m the woman who is going to make your life miserable if you don’t answer me.”
Logan was impressed by her cleavage and her long legs, but mostly by her moxie. She was tall but still a good five or six inches shorter than his six-foot-two frame, yet she stood toe-to-toe with him, refusing to back down despite