The Bride’s Emergency Contact
Sapphic Second-Chance Romance
by Blair Lennox
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Pairing: FF (Sapphic)
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Second Chance, Runaway Bride, Wedding Planner × Bride, Forced Proximity, Road Trip, One Bed, Touch Starved Exes, Caretaking Kink, Closeted to Out
I was hired to plan the wedding of the woman who broke my heart. I was not hired to help her run away from it — or to fall into bed with her while we hide from her family, her fiancé, and every camera on the island.
Mira Solano plans perfect weddings for a living. She can manage rainstorms, family feuds, missing florists, and billion-dollar expectations without breaking a sweat. But nothing in her emergency binder prepared her for her newest bride: Evelyn Hale, the woman who broke Mira’s heart ten years ago and vanished without an explanation.
Now Evelyn is marrying a kind, handsome man at a luxury Caribbean resort — and Mira intends to keep their history buried beneath orchids, champagne, and ruthless professionalism.
Until Evelyn finds her after the rehearsal dinner with one impossible request: Help me not get married tomorrow.
Mira agrees to get Evelyn somewhere safe long enough to tell the truth. She does not agree to a storm-stranded road trip, a shared motel bed, or the devastating realization that the woman she never got over may finally be ready to stop hiding.
But Evelyn’s family will do anything to protect the wedding, their reputation, and the future they planned for her. And Mira has to decide whether a woman who once left her behind can ever become someone worth choosing again.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Second-chance sapphic romance with maximum emotional damage
✅ Competence-as-foreplay wedding planner heroine
✅ Runaway bride who earns her redemption through action, not speeches
✅ Road trip across a Caribbean island with only one bed
✅ Touch-starved exes rediscovering each other’s bodies
✅ Slow burn that DETONATES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ Family pressure, public stakes, and a heroine who takes the microphone
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic FF scenes including dominance dynamics and emotionally intense encounters), strong language, family manipulation and control, themes of closeted identity and coming out under pressure. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One
The orchids were dying.
Mira spotted it the moment she stepped onto the terrace — a faint browning along the edges of the dendrobium cascades, the kind of damage that would photograph as wilted in two hours and dead by sunset. She made a note on her tablet without breaking stride, her heels clicking against the imported Italian stone that some resort designer had thought would look stunning against the Caribbean Sea. It did. It was also slippery when wet, which meant the entire ceremony platform would need anti-slip mats under the runner, which meant adjusting the floral ground arrangements by six inches on each side, which meant calling the florist before—
“Ms. Solano?” The resort coordinator, a tall man named Gerard with an impeccable linen suit and the nervous energy of someone who’d been fielding calls from Charles Hale’s office since dawn, gestured toward the cliff-edge ceremony platform. “The family requested the arch be repositioned to face due west for the sunset photographs.”
Mira looked at the arch. Looked at the cliff. Looked at the wind sock on the nearby marina mast, snapping east in a stiff breeze that would turn the bride’s veil into a weapon and send every loose petal into the Atlantic.
“The arch stays where I placed it,” she said. “Due southwest. The crosswind off the point will gust to thirty knots by ceremony time, and no one wants to watch a bride get garroted by her own cathedral train. I’ll angle the photographer to catch the sunset behind the couple from her position instead. Same shot, no strangulation.”
Gerard opened his mouth, presumably to relay Charles Hale’s exact specifications again, and Mira gave him the look — the one Celia called her neutron star, all density and no warmth.
“The arch stays,” she repeated. “If Mr. Hale has concerns, he can discuss them with me directly. That’s why he’s paying me.”
Gerard closed his mouth.
Mira continued her walkthrough, cataloguing problems the way other people catalogued grievances — systematically, thoroughly, with the calm understanding that every single one of them was hers to solve.
The humidity was destroying the sugar-paste flowers on the five-tier cake, which needed to be moved to the climate-controlled ballroom immediately. The string quartet had sent a message that their cellist had a stomach bug, and Mira had already sourced a replacement from a chamber group in Port Sol who owed her a favor from a destination wedding three years ago. The welcome gift bags in the guest suites contained a high-end rum that the groom’s mother was apparently allergic to, so sixty-four bottles needed to be swapped for the small-batch vanilla liqueur Mira kept in her emergency supply kit for exactly this kind of catastrophe.
She handled all of it between the terrace and the ballroom, a distance of maybe two hundred yards, firing off texts and emails with the efficiency of someone who had been putting out other people’s fires since she was twenty-two years old and organizing campus galas on a scholarship kid’s budget.
This was what she did. She made perfect days for other people. She anticipated the disasters, neutralized the family feuds, rescued the soggy centerpieces and the drunken best men and the weeping mothers-of-the-bride, and she did it all with a composure so flawless that her clients regularly told her she must have ice water in her veins.
They meant it as a compliment. Mira let them.
The truth was uglier and more useful: she had simply learned, at a formative age, that the person who cared least had the most power. So she had become the person who cared about details and logistics and problem-solving and professional excellence, and she had stopped — fully, deliberately, irrevocably stopped — caring about the thing that had once torn her open.
She was not going to think about the bride.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
🔥 Want an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Chapter?
The Ceiling Fan — One year later, Mira and Evelyn return to the guesthouse room where it all started. Same bed. Same clicking ceiling fan. Very different outcome. The hottest, most joyful scene in the series — too explicit for Amazon.
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