Page 1 of Acadia Falls

Prologue

ALEX

“Can you believe it?” I grabbed my best friend, Maran, and jumped up and down. “I’m getting married tomorrow!”

We did that thing girls do—we squealed and held each other’s arms while we jumped up and down. Maran’s long blond hair bounced, and my dark curls crashed over my shoulders.

“I’m so happy for you.” Maran had had just enough wine that she was easily teary-eyed. “You guys are so great together!”

“Eek, I can’t believe it!” I grinned at her. “And I know I’m not supposed to, but I’m totally sneaking over to his place for a booty call tonight. I can’t wait!”

“Aw, cute.” Maran nudged me, then yawned. “You have fun. I’ll hold down the fort here with your parents.”

“They went to bed an hour ago—they’re dinosaurs.” I winked at her. “You have the house to yourself. Enjoy it!”

“I’m going to enjoy it by going to bed.” She hugged me. “You don’t want your maid of honor to be puffy tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re right—go to bed. Love you!” I released my bestie and practically skipped out of the house. Maran had drunk enough wine to be weepy; I’d had enough to be horny.

It was time to find Derek. I would ride that fine man one last time as his naughty girlfriend—because tomorrow, I would be his wife!

His wife. I grinned as I hopped on my bike and pedaled down the dirt road. The island was dark and quiet at this time of night—the wild hour of nine p.m.—and there was no traffic, of course. My parent’s house faced the ocean, and I smiled out at the dark waves. Mrs. Derek Jones. Eek! In less than twenty-four hours, I was going to be a Mrs.!

I rode past the beach to the row of boathouses and parked outside ours. My parents had converted the old, dilapidated structure into a guest “cottage” a few years ago. So that’s where Derek was staying tonight. It was the perfect little bachelor pad for his last night as a single guy.

All the lights were off. I knew Derek and Clay and some of our other friends had gone down to the beach to keep drinking after the rehearsal dinner. But Derek wouldn’t still be out. He was vain as hell. He wanted to look good in our wedding pictures!

“Derek? Babe, you awake?” I went in through the back door and crept past the enormous sailboat. We needed to bring it out on the water one of these days. Maybe Dad would get it ready for August if we spent Labor Day weekend in Maine instead of the Hamptons.

I heard a noise toward the front of the boathouse. Some sort of repetitive… slapping? “Derek? You in there?”

I went through the door to the living area and stopped dead in my tracks.

Because there, on the couch that looked out on the ocean view, was Derek, my fiancé.

Having sex with Daisy, one of the local island girls.

Doggie-style.

The night before our wedding.

I just stood there for a second, watching his white, muscled ass as it pumped.

And then I screamed.

“Okay, woah—okay. Come here.” Maran tried to hug me, but I dodged her. “Let me get you some water.”

I didn’t take my hands off my face. I hoped I could somehow unsee Derek inside Daisy, but nothing seemed to work.

“Tequila.” Maybe tequila would work.

“Sure—yes, tequila.” Maran tore through the cabinets until she found some tumblers. By the grace of God, she also found the liquor cabinet, and she poured us each a huge shot. While she was cutting up a lime and digging up the salt, I took my hands off my face and gulped my drink.

It burned, which was a good thing.

Burning was better than whatever else I was feeling. I couldn’t even begin to name that other sensation, and I sure as shit didn’t want to deal with it. “Outside.” I pointed at the porch.

“Okay—yes, okay.” Maran came out a minute later with a huge serving tray. She had a couple of candles, the tequila, limes, salt, and an enormous bowl of pretzels “so we don’t die.” I think that’s what she said.