The Worst Best Man(37)

“Oh, hey, Aiden. Oh, good. You’re right behind us… No, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell her that right now. She’s pretty mad at you… I don’t know. We haven’t really had time to talk.”

Frankie reached behind her and snatched the phone back. “What the hell are you going to do, Kilbourn? Run us off the road? Shoot us in the back of the head?”

“Sit your ass down, buckle your seatbelt, and try to stay alive,” he growled into the phone.

“Excuse me? I don’t take orders from kidnappers.”

“He didn’t kidnap me!” Chip said.

“I didn’t kidnap him!”

“Whatever. Don’t even think about trying to keep us from the wedding. It won’t go well for you.”

“I’m not trying to keep you from the wedding, you irresponsible, exasperating idiot. I’m on your side.”

“Bullshit. You knew your brother had Chip.”

“I did,” he admitted. That temporarily shut her up. “I realized it when you read the business name on the room register last night. It’s a subsidiary of the family company.”

“Well, good news for you.”

“I promise you, I’ll deal with Elliot later. For now, let’s try to get the groom to his wedding in one piece.”

“You are the worst human being in the world, and I know a lot of people,” Frankie shouted into the phone.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He disconnected before she could have the satisfaction of hanging up on him.

“Agh!”

“So Money Bags kidnapped you?” Antonio asked as he skirted through an alley.

“Yes,” Frankie said.

“No,” Chip said. “Hey, are you old enough to drive?”

They made it to the resort in one adrenalized piece. The big black SUV maintained its course and pulled up to the hotel behind them. Frankie tossed every bill she had in her wallet at Antonio, blew him a kiss, and dragged Chip out of the car.

Aiden burst out of the passenger door of the SUV, and the three took off at a dead run through the lobby.

The concierge and front desk manager gaped after them.

“We have to get you dressed,” Frankie said, pushing Chip toward the elevator. The doors miraculously opened, but Aiden slid in behind them. The close quarters were what pushed her over the edge. She launched herself at Aiden. Her hands were so angry they didn’t know whether to slap or punch and instead flopped uselessly against his chest.

“She’s going Solange on you,” Chip observed.

“Thank you. I can see that,” Aiden said dryly, wrestling Frankie into the corner of the elevator. “Stop. Hitting.”

He held her there with the weight of his body. Frankie’s rage kicked up another notch when her body reacted as if it was happy to have six-plus feet of lying asshole pressed against it. Stupid, traitorous body.

“Hold still, Franchesca. I’m just trying to look at the cut on your head.” He gripped her chin from behind as she flailed against him. “Stop.” He gave the order softly.

She winced when his fingers prodded the cut.

“It’s not too deep. But you should have it looked at.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll make an appointment with a doctor in the next, oh, two minutes before the ceremony starts.”

“What happened to your eye?” Aiden asked Chip.

“Tree branch during the escape. This is going to be some story for the grandkids someday.”

“Yeah, just remember who rode to your rescue and who was the bad guy,” Frankie muttered.

The elevator doors opened, and they spilled out into the hallway. Chip jogged toward his room, one hand clamped firmly over his eye. Aiden stood rooted to the spot. “We need to talk,” he said to Frankie.

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening either. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Let’s go Kilbourn. Gotta get me married,” Chip called from the end of the hall.

“Don’t get abducted again,” Frankie called after him. She whirled on Aiden and stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “He trusts you. But I don’t. And if you do anything to fuck this up for him and Pru, I’ll be taking your balls home with me in my carry-on,” Frankie warned him.

“I’m rather attached to them.”

“Don’t be cute with me.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re covered in blood and pissed off.”

“Then I must look like a fucking super model right now.”

She flipped him off one more time for good measure and stormed down the hall to her room. She’d forgotten until she got inside about the dress. The mangled, stained dress. The garment bag was hanging in the closet. She was too nervous to look to see if the hotel laundry had been able to work a miracle. She shucked off her now ruined sundress and shoved herself into the strapless bra and friggin’ forty-seven dollar satin briefs that just had to go with the dress.

With shaking fingers, she unzipped the bag. Oh god. There were still visible berry stains. The tears at least looked… better-ish. It still looked like the dress had been run through a garbage disposal.

Her phone rang again and she stabbed the speakerphone button as she shimmied into the dress.

“Yeah?”