Chapter 113: Declan

"What the hell is going on with Iris McLain?" Declan hissed as soon as they neared the stacked pile of tables by the back door of the barn.

Stetson shot him a blank look. "What? Hell if I know. Listen, we need to hurry with these tables, because we still have decorating to do."

"Decorating?" Declan echoed, confused by the change in topics. Jennifer and Abby and Carmelita had done a bang-up job of decorating the barn; he didn't figure they needed any more help. Especially since they were three-quarters of the way through the reception. It seemed a little late to add more candles and rocks and glass jars at this point.

"Yes!" Stetson took a furtive glance around him and then leaned closer. "Wyatt's truck!" he whispered urgently.

Oh.

Of course.