Beautiful Beginning(7)

I frowned more deeply and immediately loosened my hold. We were on our way

to dinner, where the majority of our two families would be meeting for the

first time. They had flown in from all over the country: Michigan, Florida,

New Jersey, and Washington, even some from Canada. A number of them I hadn

’t seen in twenty years or more. In all, there were over three hundred and

fifty people arriving within the next few days. God only knew what we were

in for. On a good day I hated small talk. The week before one of the

biggest events of my life, I was terrified I would be such an enormous

* that everyone would leave town before the actual event.

Leaning forward so I would glance over at her, she asked, “Aren’t you

excited for this week?”

“Yes, of course. I’m just dreading tonight a little, and wondering how I

’ll handle all of the socializing.”

“My guess is ‘badly,’” she said, poking my shoulder.

I exhaled a laugh, giving her a playfully stern glance. “Thanks.”

“Look, just wait until you meet my aunts,” she said, leaning over and

kissing where she’d poked me. “It’ll be all the distraction you’ll

need.”

Chloe’s dad had traveled from North Dakota with his two very loud and

eccentric sisters. They were both recently divorced, and Chloe promised me

they had the potential to be the biggest disaster of the week. I wasn’t so

sure we should give out that tiara just yet—Chloe had yet to meet my

cousin Bull.

“You’ll forget about everything else and all you’ll be able to worry

about is what they’ll do to get themselves arrested and how much it will

cost you in bail money. Trust me, it’ll be very liberating.” She leaned

over and began fiddling with the car stereo, stopping on a pulsing, high-

pitched pop song. I slid my eyes over to her, concentrating a lifetime of

disgust into the brief glance.

Satisfied that I was sufficiently annoyed, she sat back in her seat. “So

what else is bothering you? You’re not getting cold feet on me now, are

you?”

I leveled her with a look that was meant to imply Are you insane?

“Okay,” she laughed. “Then talk to me. Tell me what else is on your

mind.”

I reached for her hand, twisting her fingers with mine before resting them

both on my thigh. “It’s just the looming chaos,” I started with a shrug.

“This wedding has turned into such a thing. Do you know I had fourteen

texts from my mother waiting for me when we landed? Fourteen. Ranging from

where to get coffee in San Diego, to whether Bull could get his back waxed

at the hotel—as if I know! You said it yesterday: it’s become its own

entity. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I wonder if you had it right

when you suggested sneaking off to Vegas.”

She gave me her trademark gloating smile. “I believe I said ‘run.’ Run

to Vegas. As in flee.”

“Right.”

“You know, we’re not that far from the airport,” she reminded me,

motioning out the window to where we could still see planes landing and

taking off. “It’s not too late to escape.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, because as much as I suspected we were

careening headlong into disaster, I didn’t actually want to leave. San

Diego had always been special to us: it was where I stopped being an idiot

and finally let myself love her. It was where Chloe finally let me. And

Jesus, had it really been over two years? How was that even possible? It

felt like only yesterday I was covertly ogling Miss Mills’ ass as we

checked into the W. Later, she’d called me by my first name, for the very

first time.

We’d been back together one other time, of course, to select the location

for this weekend. But that had been such a whirlwind trip, and this one

carried a far greater weight. We were here for our wedding. Despite the way

she’d crashed the bachelor party, the fact that we’d bought a Manhattan

apartment together, or the ring on Chloe’s finger, it was this strange

moment of nerves that made it finally sink in. We were getting married.

When I left here again, Chloe would be my wife.

Holy shit.

I reached up, ran a shaking hand across my clammy forehead.

“You’re being awfully quiet over there. Can I take your contemplative

silence to mean you’re actually considering fleeing?” Chloe asked.

I shook my head. “No way,” I said, tightening my grip on her hand. “We’

re here. And there isn’t a chance in hell I’d miss seeing you walk down

that aisle. I’ve fought way too f*cking hard for you.”

“Knock it off, Bennett. You’re a lot easier to deal with when you’re

being a dick.”

“And I put up with way too much of your shit,” I added, grinning when I

felt her fist connect with my shoulder. “But I do feel I should warn you