The Worst Best Man(8)

“My vote stands. No on Donaldson. I have to go.” He disconnected before his brother could object and then turned his phone off to avoid the inevitable barrage of calls and texts.

“Business drama?” Frankie asked without looking in his direction.

“Family drama with a side of business.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do business with your family.”

He shot her a glance. She had her face lifted toward the sun, a sly curve to her lips.

“It’s not that easy.”

She deigned to look at him now, lowering her sunglasses. “Nothing worthwhile is.”

--------

The resort was walled in against the ocean behind soft yellow stone walls and a gate. He’d paid little attention to it when he’d arrived last night. But watching Frankie ooh and aah over the lush landscape and the curving drive, he tuned in and let himself forget about his family, his business. The hotel rose up three stories of stucco and stone, two wings joined by a two-story, open-aired lobby. The greenery continued inside, colorful pots clustered around a stone fountain. There was a bar on either end of the lobby and a straight through view to the water.

“Wow,” Franchesca whispered behind him.

The woman behind the desk with the cheerful knotted scarf in canary yellow looked up from her computer. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay, Mr. Kilbourn,” she said with the subtle accent of the island adding music to her words.

“Of course,” he assured her. “Ms. Baranski is checking in.”

“Yes, of course. Welcome, Ms. Baranski.”

“Thank you. Your resort is beautiful,” Frankie said with an easy smile she’d never given him.

As if she’d heard his thoughts, Frankie turned to him. She looked him up and down and arched an eyebrow. “Thank you for the ride. You can go now.”

He gave her a slow, dangerous smile. Franchesca Baranski had no idea who she was taunting. He wasn’t a man who was dismissed. He stepped closer to her, crowding her against the desk, and saw the surprise, the concern in those big eyes. There was something else too. A little flare, a spark of desire.

Aiden reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips.

“The pleasure was all mine.” He saw the goosebumps that rose on her arm and grinned.

“I’m sure it usually is,” she shot back, yanking her hand free and turning her back on him.





Chapter Five


Aiden left Frankie at the desk and followed the sound of the waves. He paused at the bar, debated, and then changed his mind and continued outside.

He’d been drinking too much. A medication of sorts for the chronic stress that plagued him. His family seemed hell-bent on making every bad decision they could with regards to the business. He’d ignored it for far too long, preferring to focus on his own responsibilities. But now he needed to be present. He’d be damned if he let anyone—family included—destroy what had been three generations in the making.

Hands in the pockets of his shorts, he strolled across the coral stone terrace, his shirt fluttering in the breeze. The infinity edge pool sparkled under the sun to his right. A handful of mid-afternoon guests enjoyed ceviche and champagne at the outdoor seafood restaurant to his left.

He followed the path down the stairs and to the right where it meandered between beach and vegetation. Pruitt’s father might not think much of Chip as a son-in-law, but he wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of spending lavishly. He’d been willing to rent out the cordoned off section of the resort to ensure his princess had a special and private day.

Aiden found the bride and groom sunning themselves at the edge of a freeform lagoon overlooking the beach and ocean. The bridesmaids—bridesmonsters, he corrected himself with amusement—were lounging in studied positions of perfection that best accented their appeal. He noticed the straightening of shoulders, the jutting of chests when they spotted him. They were always on the hunt.

But he was no one’s quarry.

He dropped down at the end of Chip’s lounger, his back to the monsters. “Your maid of honor has been delivered,” he announced.

Pru peeked up at him from under the brim of a ridiculous sun hat. “Aiden! I scheduled a car to pick up Ms. I’ll-Just-Take-a-Taxi.”

“I canceled it,” he said with a shrug. “I was already heading in that direction.”

“He’s just trying to get back into Frankie’s good graces,” Chip said loyally. His friend waved his empty glass at a passing pool server and circled his finger signaling a round. It looked like Aiden would be getting that drink after all.

“Uh-huh.” Pruitt wasn’t believing either of them. Not for a second.

“Did you pick up my genius best friend to pick on her? Because if you did, I’m not going to be happy with you, Aiden Kilbourn,” Pruitt said, jabbing a finger into his arm.

“Pick on her? What is this? Second grade?” Aiden teased.

“What exactly did you say to her at the engagement party?” Pruitt demanded.

“She didn’t tell you?” Aiden was surprised. He thought Frankie would have run tattling.

“My beautiful best friend doesn’t want me to worry about a thing. And apparently that includes whatever idiotic thing you said or did at the party.”

Aiden shared a look with Chip. Neither of them were enthusiastic about repeating the insult.