Beautiful Beginning(38)

hundred text messages a day about Dad’s pants and the A/C in your room and

your favorite dish at the restaurant downstairs!”

“Does anyone care what I think?” Chloe asked.

“No,” George and Mina said in unison.

“Fine,” she said, tightening her robe. “You’re all lucky I’m exhausted

and got some earlier or I’d kick every one of your asses. Just get me to a

bed. I don’t even care whose. It can be yours for all I care,” she said,

pointing to George.

“Not a chance in hell, princess.”

Had the world gone completely insane?

“Sara,” I said, spinning to face her, pleading. “How did they talk you

into this? You’re supposed to be the nice one. They will drag you down

with them, Dillon—run.”

She shrugged. “This is actually kind of fun. I mean, with your newfound

chastity we expected to find you crocheting or playing Scrabble or

something. This is way better.”

“You’re all nuts,” I said. “All of you. Even my mother.”

“Two minutes!” George called out. The room broke into a flurry of

activity: drawers were opened and rummaged through; the armoire was

searched for anything that might be needed tomorrow. The bathroom was

ransacked and pilfered of every single one of Chloe’s things.

“Oh stop being such a tight-ass, Bennett. It’s tradition, and tomorrow

when you see her walk down the aisle it will all be worth it. Do we have

everything?” Mom called.

Several different voices confirmed that indeed, everything was in order for

the kidnapping of my fiancée, and after a mad flurry of activity in the

main room, Chloe was hustled out without so much as a lingering kiss on my

lips, and the suite fell deadly quiet.



It took me hours to finally fall asleep. The room was too quiet, the bed

too empty, and I hadn’t gotten laid. Again. My hand was starting to feel

like a pity f*ck.

Waking up alone sucked. One would think I’d be accustomed to it by now—

with our busy schedules one of us was always coming or going and we each

spent our fair share of nights in an empty bed—but now that I’d grown

accustomed to waking with Chloe warm and pliable and right there, it felt

wrong, like a vital part of me was missing.

It was still dark; early enough that a damp chill hung in the air and the

birds were relatively quiet. With the stillness outside, the ocean seemed

louder than ever. I was hard and alone, and Chloe was somewhere nearby, but

too f*cking far away to touch. My stomach twisted and I closed my eyes,

reaching for a pillow to block it all out.

This was going to be a long day.

I forced myself up, moved to the bathroom to take care of business, shower,

and dress. We were getting married today. Married. And the mental list in

my head of everything that needed to be done was about as long as the hours

remaining in the day.

There were too many clocks here, I’d decided. There was the one I wore,

which Chloe got me the day we opened the New York office of RMG. An ornate

clock over the wet bar, one on the TV, another on the docking station by

the bed. I could tell from almost any point in the suite exactly how many

hours until Chloe would be awake, until I got to see her again, until she

was my wife.



Will and Max were waiting for me downstairs. Huddled together near the

fireplace in the grand room, they were bickering over a map displayed on

Max’s phone.

“It’s on University,” Will was saying.

“It’s not,” Max argued. “It’s the one on Robinson.” He looked up,

took in my giant scowl, and shook his head. “Good morning, sunshine. I’m

assuming we didn’t sleep well last night?”

I rolled my eyes. “You would know. Were you missing a very pregnant

girlfriend? Because she ended up in my room.”

“What?” Will said.

“The entire bridal party including George showed up last night, intent on

stealing my fiancée so I wouldn’t see her until the ceremony. I’m

assuming they’ve got her bound and gagged in this hotel somewhere while

they cover her in white lace and iridescent sparkles.” I took in Will’s

posture, the circles under his eyes, and his nonstop yawning. “What’s up

with you?”

“Hanna,” he said, stifling another yawn. “Not sure if it’s the cougar

sisters or what but damn, I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since we

got here.”

“I hate you both,” I said with a sweeping hand gesture.

“Good to see you’re in such high spirits today, mate,” Max laughed.

“Suck it, Stella,” I said, breezing by him and heading in the direction

of the concierge desk. He and Will moved into step on either side of me.

The concierge looked up as we approached. I gave her my name and handed