“—Frankie It felt as if most of the island had turned up at South Beach to see Ryan marry Emily. The beach was a splash of color, with outfits ranging from swimwear to floaty silk. Chairs had been placed in rows on the sand, and the cries of the seagulls and the crashing of the waves were interspersed with laughing children and barking dogs. Everyone seemed to know each other and Frankie stood still, poised on the edge, feeling like the outsider. If she lingered here, perhaps no one would notice... her and once the ceremony started she could melt away unseen. She was about to run that plan past Matt when Ryan spotted them. He strode across the beach and pulled Frankie into a hug. “You’re the hero of the hour. You shouldn’t be hovering at the edge of the beach—you should be right in the front row. You’re our guest of honor.” Front row? Frankie’s stomach lurched. Sitting right in the front would mean there would be nowhere to hide. She’d be right there, watching while they exchanged vows.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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