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Informationen zum Autor Becky Chalsen Klappentext "For as long as anyone can remember, it's been Amy, Jo, and Ryan. Amy and Jo, the inseparable Sharp twins, who couldn't be more different. Amy and Ryan, the high-school sweethearts turned husband and wife, who have the next ten years planned out perfectly. Together through high school, college, weddings, there's nothing that could tear the three of them apart. While it's become harder for the group to spend as much time together, with life only getting more complicated with age, they always make it a priority to reunite every summer at the Sharp family home in Kismet on Fire Island, where they've been vacationing since they were children. But as this year's 4th of July weekend approaches, something feels off. Jo's whirlwind engagement and wedding ceremony now eclipse the twins' long-awaited 30th birthday. Recent arguments with Ryan have left their marriage feeling more like make-believe than ever-after. And as the family beach town transforms into "Jo's Wedding Weekend," Amy's trusted trio will be tested by the most unexpected hurdle yet: the arrival of a handsome, mysterious newcomer in a Best Man suit. One with a strikingly familiar face. One that Amy had planned to never see again. As Amy finds herself balancing the ghosts of her past with the heartache of her present, she'll be forced to confront her worst doubts: what if her fastidiously planned life hasn't been her destiny all along? And what if the people Amy loves the most have been the very same things standing in her way? This holiday weekend, even the strongest SPF won't protect the Sharp twins from all the secrets about to take center stage"-- Leseprobe Chapter 1 The ferry pulled into the familiar dock. The one I'd come to associate with cold cheese pizza and sweet tea vodka sodas, bonfires in backyards and moon gazing on a starlit beach. Sand under fingernails, damp hair. Even the mosquito bites felt beautiful. "You ready?" Ben asked me. "I can hear the bells already." My husband grabbed my hand and squeezed as the deck crew tied us in, a synchronized dance practiced to perfection. A gentle rock that might cause the uninitiated to lose balance if they weren't holding on to the paint-peeling handrail. For a moment, bliss. And then reality crashed back full force like a tidal wave. Kids ran and parents scolded as passengers crowded their way down the just-too-steep staircase, disembarking with duffel bags and brightly colored coolers bursting with groceries that would somehow still need to be replenished before the end of the trip. Hosts greeted their arriving newcomers with hugs and red Solo cups-God forbid someone stay sober on the Island for the three-minute walk from the dock to the houses. The Fourth of July weekend smelled the same every year. As the chaos unfolded, I peered over the ferry's edge-we liked being the last ones off-and caught sight of Jo walking down the dock, wagon in tow. Her hair was golden from an early start to the summer sun. Jo had that inherent sense of style money couldn't buy, despite how hard one might try. She told me fashion was just in the hips, as if all attractiveness came from a confident walk and posture alone. Today, Jo was outfitted in an effortless wide-brimmed hat that I could never pull off and a midi white sundress billowing in the breeze. The subtle glow of a bride-to-be. "She's actually on time," I said with surprise. Ben laughed. "Should we make a code word for the week? In case things get hard?" "The only words I need to focus on are 'maid of honor,'" I said, as my gaze tracked north toward the beckoning town square. The Inn and the Out, the town's two adjacent restaurants, already filling with suntanned customers. The Red Wagon storefront overflowing with local crafts, the warmth of the Pizza Shack competing only with the constant rhythm of the sea.
