My Groom Swapped Brides at the Altar So I Swapped Grooms in the Parking Lot Chapter 01

My Groom Swapped Brides at the Altar So I Swapped Grooms in the Parking Lot Chapter 01

After Brandon Astor ruined his widowed sister-in-law’s attempts to remarry eight times, Delia Stafford came begging to me.

“Sloane, please. Just keep Brandon away from my wedding this time. I can’t have him ruining everything again.”

“This guy is different. He’s a boxing coach at a training gym. He’s grounded, dependable, and he has an eight-pack. I really, genuinely like him.”

Her cheeks flushed as she said it.

I was torn.

Years ago, when the Astor brothers fought over control of the family business, Brandon and his older brother ended up on opposite sides.

Even after his brother died unexpectedly, I had tried countless times to get Brandon to let the past go.

But he kept destroying every chance Delia had to move on.

“You know what she did to me back then,” he had said. “I haven’t settled that score yet. She isn’t marrying anyone.”

So this time, Delia wiped her tears and made a frantic suggestion.

“What if we hold our weddings on the same day? He’ll be tied up as the groom, so he won’t have time to crash mine.”

My heart softened.

I figured I would help her once and talk Brandon into moving our wedding up.

On the big day, I climbed into the rented wedding car, my heart full of joy.

Then I opened the wedding album being passed around the Astor estate.

Page after page showed Brandon and Delia.

Walking down the aisle.

Raising champagne with the families.

Disappearing into the honeymoon suite.

In that instant, everything clicked.

I went numb, slumped back in my seat, and wiped the tears off my face.

If Brandon didn’t want me, fine.

I would gladly take Delia’s eight-pack coach for myself.

…

Under the double-layered lace veil, all I could see were the long legs of the man beside me, casually crossed at the ankles.

He hadn’t said a single word since getting into the car.

The silence was suffocating.

The wedding car finally pulled up in front of a two-story red cedar cottage on the Astor property.

I stepped out and ripped the veil off.

Two figures froze under the porch awning.

Brandon’s guys, Cole and Marcus.

“Whoa, Sloane, lifting the veil now is bad luck.” Cole stubbed out his cigarette and walked over with a practiced grin. “The ceremony hasn’t officially started yet. The groom is supposed to be the one to lift it.”

Marcus crowded in too, blocking my view like a human shield, desperate to keep me from seeing the groom’s face.

“Right, right. That’s tradition.”

“Come on inside and sit down. We’ve got everything ready. Champagne, a cheese board, the works.”

I looked at them.

“Where are the others?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean Riley, the maid of honor?” Cole laughed. “Her driver took a wrong turn. Went way off route. They’ll be late.”

A wrong turn?

How many more things could go wrong with this wedding?

I did not bother asking again.

I lifted my gown and headed for the front door.

Brandon, let’s see how you’re going to cover up this lie.