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He’s a tattooed shirtless bad boy. My best friend’s brother. And the jerk on the other side of my bed.

I didn’t know bridesmaid was code for babysitter for the bride’s brother, but if that’s what my best friend needs of me for her dream wedding to go off without a hitch, that’s what I’ll do.

Even if Theo Monroe has been a pain in my rear since third grade.

Even if he should be responsible enough to not wreak havoc at his sister’s destination wedding.

Even if it means we have to share a hotel room in Hawaii, which might be the final duty that breaks me.

Not only does Theo know exactly how to push my buttons, but he never wears clothes, he’s hiding a litter of kittens in his room, and he keeps showing up with fresh-baked cookies that seemingly come from nowhere.


I have no idea what’s up with the tension between him and the groom.

Or why he’s so proud of the world’s strangest wedding gift.

Or why I suddenly want to know what makes him tick. The story behind his tattoos. How he can afford to rent a convertible in Hawaii. And if maybe all of that utter frustration and irritation I’ve felt for him for years is suppressed attraction that a good girl like me isn’t supposed to feel for the biggest bad boy of Snaggletooth Creek.

But I do know one thing.

When I find out his biggest secret and the answer to all of my questions, it will change everything.

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: The Worst Wedding Date

Pippa Grant

Expected Release Date: 13 April 2023

Book Series: 

A fun destination-wedding RomCom, starring a good girl, a bad boy, and an epic only-one-bed scene, is out this week from Pippa Grant, and I have an awesome excerpt for you.

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Theo heads deeper into the resort. Much like yesterday, I tag along.

All the way down the walkway to his bungalow.

Our bungalow? His bungalow?

The place my luggage currently calls home. That place.

I suck in a deep breath through my nose.

Time for a perspective check.

I’m in paradise. I can hear the ocean. I can smell the salty breeze. The flowers here are brightly colored, smell amazing, they’re gorgeous, and there are so many types. There was an adorable bouquet of knitted hearts in one of the glasses on the sink in the bathroom this morning. My best friend Emma is happy. I’m off work and not checking email, which is hard but also amazing. Theo didn’t go blind after the sand-in-the-eye fiasco at the beach earlier. I have a bed to sleep in and I can order room service, since I’m not sure I’ve eaten anything yet today.

Have I?

Have I eaten?

Did I have a protein bar today, or was that yesterday?

Theo keys into the bungalow and holds the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say automatically.

He eyes me.

And then he sighs like I usually do, again, which is the last sound I ever hear Theo make around anyone else.

It’s just me.

I make even the funnest of fun people sigh.

He mutters something to himself and crosses the living area to the closed bedroom door.

The hide-a-bed is still sticking out of the couch at an odd angle, so apparently the hotel staff wasn’t able to come in and fix it. The gauzy curtains on either side of the balcony door sway in the breeze. And Theo’s standing by the door that’s been closed since I checked in, looking at me like I’m once again holding him back. 

“You coming?”

Just like that. You coming? No actual invitation. No suggestion that something’s changed since I got out of the shower this morning and saw that note that if I went in this room, my parents would be sent a picture of me in bed with him and told that I’m carrying his love child. Just you coming? like it’s assumed I want to go wherever he goes.

He winces.

My face must be telegraphing just how much I’d like to toss him into a volcano while we’re here.

“C’mon, Laney. Come see. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Food and going back to life without you will make me feel better.”

He scratches his chest under the gaping side of his shirt, not the least bit visibly offended. “Consider it an apology. And a thank you for saving my eyesight.”

I feel like I’m about to walk into a trap.

But curiosity is bigger than the fear.

If I can find out what’s behind that door, I can find out how to fix it so I don’t have to keep sharing a bed with Theo.

Because one thing’s crystal clear.

He’s not letting anyone from maintenance at the resort in here to look at that hide-a-bed while he has a big secret hidden in the primary bedroom in the suite.

“Do you truly have a camera set up behind that door with a filter that’ll put my head on a naked body and auto-email my parents to tell them I’m having an orgy here too?”

He doesn’t react, doesn’t cringe or blush or look even the slightest bit called out, despite this feeling I have that he’s embarrassed about the note. I can’t tell you why I feel it.

I just do.

But he grins at me like he’s having fun with me now. Not making fun of me. Having fun with me. “Yeah,” he says, “but it’s worth it to see what else is inside.”

“I honest to god have no idea why Emma loves you as much as she does.”

He shrugs like it’s one more insult that doesn’t penetrate his tattoo shield. “As my sister, she has to.”

I close my eyes. “Apologies. That was rude.”

Is it hard to say? Yes. But was it rude? Also yes. And this will be much easier if the two of us can get along.

“C’mon, Laney. Come see what’s behind door number two. Gonna make you forget just how big of a pain in the neck I am. Promise.”

I am absolutely walking into a trap.

But curiosity and that overwhelming desire to fix it, whatever it is, win out.

Right along with that desperate need to be in on some fun. Any fun. No matter what it is or how much I’ll regret it later.

Time to see what’s behind door number two.


There are about a million things I know to be true about Delaney Kingston. One of the biggest is that she doesn’t do dares. She doesn’t wander into danger. She’s the most rule-following-est boring person I’ve ever known.

And I say that as a man who’s had stretches of unreasonable attraction to her despite how boring she is.

I also know I’m taking an enormous risk in letting her in on my secret.

But she’s had a terrible day, and whether it’s my fault or not, I don’t like seeing people have terrible days.

Even Laney.

Maybe especially Laney.

She’s letting me push her into the second bedroom like she’s given up the will to fight. Like I’ve broken her in two days. Not even two full days at that. Actually, not even twenty-four hours.

Ugh. What’s wrong with me?

I’m known in some circles as the guy who makes people feel better about themselves.

Not the guy who tears them down.

But there I went, falling into old habits and picking on her for fun.

No more.

I’m better than that. Have been for a lot of years now.

Time to remember it and quit fighting this.

“Go quick so they don’t get out,” I murmur into her hair, which now smells like a salon in the sunshine, as I open the door and put my hand on her lower back to steer her inside quickly.

She does.

I slip in behind her and close the door in time to hear her soft gasp.

Miss D. looks over at us from her perch on the bathroom sink in the open-plan primary bedroom and sizes Laney up with a clear gaze.

“Oh, wow. You really aren’t hiding porn after all,” Delaney whispers.

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