No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(5)

“And, of course, you had to give her just-been-f*cked hair to match,” she grumbled.

I grinned, recalling how that uptight bridesmaid’s hair had become loosened curls. “Of course.”

Kiki whispered to me from across the room, her expression conspiratorial. “Didn’t you also bang Simone?”

I nodded. “Hey, at least I waited until later that night. Her hair was intact when the reception began.”

Kendall laughed. “She was picking grass out of it on the way to the valet.”

“See, ladies? I rest my case. You don’t want me anywhere near a wedding.”

All-seeing Kristen stared hard at me from her corner of the couch. I knew her MO. Behind her calculating stare, she tried to figure out why the “no weddings” thing.

My reasons didn’t matter. They were none of their business. And as all three had learned over the years, when I wanted to keep something from them, I succeeded.

I gazed at her coolly.

With reluctance, she looked away, forfeiting the unwinnable battle.

“Ben would be our bar guy,” Kendall murmured, scrawling notes on the back of an extra silver paper napkin from tonight’s New Year’s bash.

“Yep.” I swallowed down the rest of my beer and closed my eyes, my buzz helping me relax further into the couch.

“Hannah could do the cakes!” Kiki’s high-pitched tone was too animated for 2:00 a.m. But then her tone dropped, heavy. “Oh, and no doing the help.”

I tilted my head, cracking open my eyes long enough to see the deadpan look from Kiki. “Uptight Ice Queen Hannah Martin? No problem.” But the woman did have memorable curves, and oddly, her attitude had drawn me in until she’d shut me down cold.

So if that ice ever thawed, I’d have to watch myself. Because no matter how difficult it was for me to follow rules, keeping my word to my sisters was important to me.

She shook her head. “She’s not an Ice Queen.”

I snorted. “Says you. When a guy approaches a girl and frost coats his skin from the chilly reception, she is.”

Kendall crossed her arms. “Don’t blame a girl for being immune to your charms. Not every female wants her skirt blown up to her shoulders when you come near.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, she bakes a great cake; I’ll give her that.” Fucking awesome cake, actually. And all I’d done with Hannah was appreciate a beautiful woman I’d just met, yet she’d given me the glacial treatment all the same.

Kristen glanced at me. “You need to take that meeting.”

I coughed, nearly choking. “What? Hell no.”

“Yes, Mr. Wharton Business School.”

I pointed my bottle toward Kiki. “She’s Kiki’s friend. She should take the meeting.”

Kiki shook her head. “She’s not that good of a friend. I just know her from art class. Art. Business. You do the math.”

Kristen pursed her lips, staring at me. “You and I will go together.”

Knowing my going to the meeting made the most sense, I didn’t argue and gave her a curt nod. But the whole idea sounded painful. About as much fun as when my sisters tricked me into sticking my tongue on a frozen light pole when I was four.

Resigned, I mentally prepared to meet the Ice Queen again.





Nine days later, I stepped out of the shower, barely awake, when my cell phone’s incessant buzzing on the nightstand caught my attention.

Irritated at the world that I had to get up early on the only morning I usually had to sleep in after a punishing week of school and work, I grabbed the damned thing off my nightstand, clicked it on, and shoved it against my ear. “What?” I growled.

“Cade, you need to go to the meeting at Sweet Dreams on your own.” Kristen sounded stressed. There was a beeping noise in the background, then a car door slammed and an engine started.

“Tell me you’re joking.” Gears started to click in my uncaffeinated mind—even she wouldn’t pull a stunt with something so important to her. “Wait. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Jason’s car broke down on the pike. Dead battery. I’m already on my way to rescue him so he can make his investor’s meeting.”

“Shouldn’t we reschedule?” I stared at my bed, thinking I could crawl back in.

“No.” she countered, her tone firm. “Today may be our only shot at this. Hannah was leery on the phone about the idea of partnering with us while launching her new bakery. Make sure you’re there by 7:00 a.m.”

I groaned. “Sis, I know nothing about baked goods. And I’m confident Hannah doesn’t like me.”

“Learn. And make her.” She hung up.

The day was off to a shitty start. Coffee. I need coffee. I went straight to the kitchen and poured a cup.

I couldn’t be mad at Kristen for rescuing her husband. I liked Jason and didn’t want him stranded either. Or late to his business meeting. A trifecta of sibling code, business code, and bro code obliterated the weak hold I had on my grumpy mood.

Waiting for the caffeine to kick in, I put on a pair of jeans, tugged a black T-shirt over my head, shrugged on a jacket, and pulled on my worn boots before grabbing my keys and helmet off the entry table.

I shivered and grumbled under my breath at Jason’s damned car battery. It was cold as f*ck out so early, even with unseasonably warm temps in January. I eased back onto the cold, worn leather of my custom motorcycle.