To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(16)

It was annoying as hell.

“Whatever, man,” Grant said good-naturedly. “You going to tell me what your deal is, or what?”

Seth rubbed the towel over his face and relented. “Maya’s getting married.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Grant’s mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me.”

“I wish,” Seth muttered.

Grant leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor, looking shocked.

You and me both, bro.

Seth understood Grant’s reaction. Maya was almost as much of a sister to Grant as she was to Seth. Grant had more or less grown up at the Tyler residence. His own parents had lived in a lavish penthouse in Midtown, but it was a lonely, miserable existence. Grant’s mom had been a semi-successful fashion model who’d traveled more often than not, his dad an equally self-involved Wall Street magnate who hadn’t wanted kids in the first place.

And while the Tyler house had hardly been all bear hugs and homemade cookies, Hank Tyler had at least paid attention to Grant. Whenever Grant had stayed for dinner, which was often, he’d been included in the dinner table inquisition of “How was your day?” and “Did you get your test results?” and “Is your homework done?”

For a kid that would have been otherwise raised by a string of indifferent nannies, it had made a big impact on Grant. Which is why it made so much sense that Grant’s career had taken off under Hank’s protective wing—the Tyler Hotel Group was widely known as being a family-run business, and Grant Miller was, in fact, family.

Seth had never been more aware of that fact than right now, staring at his friend’s horrified face.

“Who the hell is she marrying?” Grant asked.

“His name’s Neil Garrett. They’ve been dating for three months.”

“Three months? And you’re letting her f*cking marry this guy?”

“Hold on, champ,” Seth said, holding up a hand irritably. “First of all, seeing as this isn’t the eighteenth century, I don’t ‘let’ Maya do anything. I’m every bit as pissed off about all of this as you are, if not more so, so quit trying to convince me to hate it. Right there with you.”

Grant dragged his hands over his face, and then sat up straight. “Okay, so what’s our plan? How we going to get rid of the guy?”

“Easy, Capone.”

“Come on. I know you’ve thought about it.”

Seth lifted a shoulder. “I may have entertained some ideas. But since getting arrested for murder’s not really on my bucket list, I’m starting simpler. Figure out who the hell the guy is, if he’s good enough—”

“He’s not.”

Seth ignored the interruption. “Look, I’m doing the best I can. You know how Maya is. If I flat out tell her not to, she’ll probably go elope.”

Grant grunted in agreement to this assessment.

“I don’t suppose you know of any private investigators,” Seth asked, deliberately not meeting his friend’s eye.

Grant’s gaze sharpened. “You wouldn’t.”

I would.

Seth spread his hands to the side and tried to explain. “I’m not getting anywhere on my own. I’m good enough with Google when it comes to looking up the time of the Giants game, and I know how to update my own LinkedIn profile, but I’m not getting anywhere on finding dirt on this guy.”

“Dude, anything more than looking up the dude on Facebook is a no go. She’s your sister. She’ll kill you.”

“It’s because she’s my sister that I have to,” Seth snapped back. “I can’t let her marry a guy she’s known for all of three months. I hadn’t even met the guy until after he put the ring on her finger.”

Grant sat up straight. “Switch this around. Pretend that you’re the one getting married, and Maya hires a private investigator to research your girl. How do you feel?”

“Wouldn’t happen,” Seth said automatically. “For starters, you of all people know why I’m not getting married anytime soon. Probably not ever. And if I did, it wouldn’t be to a woman I just met. And if it was to a woman I just met—”

“Never mind.” Grant laughed, holding up his hands in a gesture of submission. “You’re impossible to talk to.”

“I can’t let her marry someone I don’t know anything about,” Seth continued quietly, silently begging his friend to understand. “If this guy turns out to be an ass, and I let her walk down the aisle, if he hurts her—”

Grant blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know, man. I get it. I care about Maya, too. But you know—you know that there are some things in life you don’t get to control, right?”

Seth looked away, knowing exactly what his friend was referring to.

When Seth’s father had dropped dead of a heart attack eight months earlier, the shock of it had knocked the wind out of Seth.

Only, Seth had been the only one who was shocked.

Hank’s preexisting heart condition had been common knowledge to everyone except Seth. Because that’s the way his father had wanted it. He’d wanted Seth in the dark. He’d said as much in a brief letter delivered posthumously that had very nearly ripped Seth’s heart out.