The Worst Best Man(23)

“Antonio, I hope you only use your powers for good,” Aiden said to the boy.

“Mostly good,” Antonio promised.

“We can’t sneak into a wedding like this,” Frankie said looking down at her mini dress.

“What else do you have with you?” Aiden asked.

“Nothing good enough to crash high society except for my bridesmaid dress.”

He stroked a hand over the hair on his chin. “That’ll do.”





Chapter Thirteen


Frankie didn’t know who Aiden called or how they managed it, but as Antonio buzzed up to the front door of their hotel, the concierge was waiting outside with two garment bags.

Aiden swung the side door on the minivan open just wide enough to grab the bags and throw cash at the man, and then they were off again.

Uncle was snoring peacefully in the backseat having washed down his fish and Coke with the rest of the rum.

“If this dress gets wrecked, Pru is going to kill me, and then she’s going to kill you because I’m going to tell her this is all your fault,” Frankie announced. She slid onto the bench seat behind Aiden and unzipped the bag to reveal the reason behind her second part-time job. The two-thousand-dollar bridesmaid dress. The one Pru had offered to buy for her. The one Frankie insisted on buying herself even though her fingers physically cramped while signing the credit card slip. The gold sequined v-neck gown cost more than the entire rest of her wardrobe combined.

He turned around. “What makes you think this is my fault?” Aiden demanded.

“Eyes up front, mister. Both of you,” she said, when Antonio adjusted the rearview mirror. “I’m saying it was your idea to use the wedding clothes to sneak into another wedding. I’m sure Pru’s no bruises, no cuts, no hickeys also extends to no destroying your couture.”

Aiden slid over in his seat to block the kid’s view. Frankie did her best to shimmy into the dress while keeping everything important covered with her mini dress. Finally in the gown, but without the proper undergarments, she twisted in the seat.

“Zip me, Aide?” she asked, offering her back to him.

She peered over her shoulder as he abandoned the buttons on his Oxford shirt, leaving it delectably open. Regrettably, she’d missed him getting into his pants.

She felt his hand at her hip, holding her in place while he guided the zipper up to the middle of her back. Her flesh burned where his hand still lingered, and she scooted away from him.

She’d already come to her senses once tonight. Once was more than enough where kajillionaire ladies’ man Aiden was concerned. Besides, they had a groom to find.

“Rockley straight ahead,” Antonio announced, pointing in the direction of the van’s headlights.

“Drive past it and then turn around,” Aiden ordered peering through the window into the night.

The resort was walled off quite literally by a tall stucco wall painted a soft, sandy yellow. It seemed to go on for a mile. Not only was the gate closed, but there were half a dozen security people standing at attention in front of it.

“Who did you say was getting married?” Aiden asked Frankie.

Frankie consulted his phone. “Trellenwy Bostick. Technically she and her groom got married last weekend in Napa at her family’s vineyard. This is the party. Ultra-exclusive, all the non-wedding guests at the resort had to sign non-disclosure agreements,” she read. “Private security to ensure Trellenwy’s privacy. Blah blah blah. Basically, we’re screwed.”

Antonio drove past the resort and pulled into a gravel parking lot that flanked the beach. “I can get you in,” he announced confidently.

“What are you going to do? Forge us an invitation?” Frankie asked.

“Me and my brother used to walk to the resort on the beach. Sold a few bracelets before security chased us out.”

“The beach will be crawling with security,” Aiden pointed out.

“Yeah, but between the road and the beach is like a jungle. Trees, bushes, no lights,” Antonio grinned.

“And if the gate is guarded and the beach is guarded, no one will be looking in the jungle,” Frankie said triumphantly.

“Exactly. Hang on, guys.” Antonio floored the old van past the hotel gate as if he were a man on a mission.

“Slow down, desperado,” Frankie yelled.

“If we go by all slow and pokey, they’re gonna get suspicious.”

Aiden laughed softly.

“I’m going to let you out down here, further away from the hotel in case you make a lot of noise climbing the wall.”

“Let’s do this.” Frankie wedged her feet into her incredibly impractical wedding heels. She hoped the jungle was more of a neatly trimmed landscape that she wouldn’t break both ankles exploring.

Aiden eyed her in the dark interior of the van. “Maybe you should stay put. Let me go find Chip.”

“Please. Like I’m going to let you go in there alone. Besides, a couple dressed for a wedding will be a hell of a lot less suspicious than James Friggin’ Bond wandering up the beach in a tux. You’re not leaving me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue further but wisely shut his mouth when Antonio swerved across the road and pulled up to the curb. “Good luck, guys.”

Aiden pulled out another bill from his billfold. “You’ve been immeasurably helpful tonight, Antonio.”