Crash Into Me(108)

"Okay. I can see your point."

Smiling that warm smile I'd loved since the first night I met him, Tristan pulled me to him and held me tight as he whispered in my ear, "I love you. Tell Jordan I said hi and she's welcome to stay at the hotel for as long as she likes."

God, when he said things like that, I had a hard time remembering that sometimes he really did things that pissed me off. How was I supposed to stay mad at him when he was so sweet and thoughtful to not only me but my best friend?




Hugging him, I said, "One of these days I'm going to figure out how you make me love you so much, Tristan Stone. One of these days."

He pulled away and smiled as he cupped my chin with his palm. "Then that's the day I'll have to figure out a new way."





Chapter Twenty-Two

Jordan and I spent hours poring over thick, glossy bridal magazines, oohing and ahhing over the most gorgeous dresses I'd ever seen. Every few pages we'd find another one that we added to the list of "possibles" and fold over the corner of the page so that by the time we were done, the magazines had grown to twice their original size.

My call to my sister went as I thought it would. She couldn't believe her baby sister was getting married and had at least a dozen reasons why I shouldn't marry someone I'd only known for a few months and why they couldn't just pick up and leave to go on a vacation to some island in the middle of December. After her lengthy lecture on how marriage was a serious step that should be taken only after two people knew each other for much longer than six months, I explained that it was an all-expense paid trip for her and her family and if she didn't want to be there, so be it.

Jordan was much easier to convince. I don't think I had gotten the complete story about our island wedding plans out of my mouth before she was jumping out of her chair and racing around the hotel suite rambling about all the things she had to do at work to be able to go. But most importantly, she promised she'd be there, standing next to me as my maid of honor.

By the time I arrived back at the house, the Executive Home people were nowhere to be found. I threw the mail Jenson had picked up at the apartment on the desk in the bedroom and set out to look for Tristan. I found him sitting at his desk in his office looking particularly tired.

"Hey, you. How did your photo shoot go? Did they love the house?"

He looked up at me standing in the doorway and forced a smile. "It was fine. You know how I hate pictures."

"You look exhausted. Tell me what I can do." I leaned over behind him and nuzzled his neck. "A nice massage?"

He hung his head and cracked his neck. "I'd love that. I have to get ready for one of those goddamn events tonight."

My hands eased the tension from his shoulders and neck, which felt like they were twisted into tight knots. "Just remember it's for charity."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he grumbled, "Not this time. This time it's pure promotion. The Richmont is hosting the release party for some author's new book."

"Why do you have to be there?"

"The board loves to have me at these things. Any time the hotel is featured in some book or movie, they love to build the whole thing up. It's ridiculous, but as the face of the business, I have to be there."

"You mean the hotel was part of the book's story?"

Blowing air out in a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Yeah. It's the setting for a good portion of the book, I guess. Thank God it's not a murder mystery or my lawyers would be suing the poor author for all she's worth."