He ducked his head and turned back toward Lacey’s door, where Victoria stood shooting me a lethal glare.
“You okay?” Cole whispered, gruff and shaky.
I looked over his shoulder. Martin and Victoria were gone. “I’m fine.”
He stared long and hard, unconvinced but seemingly unsure how to proceed.
“I’m fine. Really.” Still pressed against the wall, I slunk away from the brooding man. Jesus. What was wrong with me?
I stood straight and announced, “I have to go do laundry,” then pressed the call button for the elevator.
Behind me, Cole huffed. “Natalie.”
I stared at the panel on the wall. “What?”
“Who’s the man you’re in love with?”
My shredded heart flapped in the breeze like tattered rags caught on a power line. He’d heard my conversation with Martin.
I opened my mouth to no avail. Thankfully, I didn’t have to lie because Cole cleared his throat and snapped, “Never mind. None of my fucking business.”
The elevator dinged.
Behind me, retreating footsteps.
On the ride up to my floor, I vowed to never again share space with Cole Adams. After the wedding, anyway.
Cole
Lacey’s dress was simple, playful almost with its plunging, heart-shaped top and a short, ridiculously puffy skirt. But what did that matter when she stood next to Ellis in his white tuxedo, and they both stood before Elvis, who wore a red Hawaiian shirt and drawled about love and honor, and ’til death do you part? The whole setup was ridiculous, and perfect.
Martin even fit in, standing next to Ellis, donning pressed khaki shorts and his Avanti palm tree button-up.
Natalie, however, put everyone in the small chapel to shame, including the bride. Her face was flawless, shades of pink dusting her cheeks. Her lashes, darker than normal, framed a haunting set of eyes that shimmered with emotion. Her glasses were tinted yellow with thin gold frames that matched her shoes. Her rosy lips quivered, three times that I’d counted, before her smile, that damn beautiful smile, took charge.
Her hair was pinned back on both sides, the rest coiled in soft, touchable curves that fell down her bare back. The strapless, pale yellow dress hugged breasts that teased of spilling over the silky fabric. The skirt hung to just above her knees in a loose drape that would be easy to lift were she bent over a chair, or a desk, or…fuck. What the fuck was I doing?
I squeezed Victoria’s hand.
She leaned closer, rested her head on my shoulder, and whispered, “God, Cole. I can’t wait for our wedding day.”
Fuck, my unfaithful heart. “Maybe we should elope, too. You know, while we’re here. Skip all the fanfare and just be man and wife.”
“That’s not even a little bit funny, Cole. All the time I’ve put into making our wedding perfect.”
I was painfully aware of all the time stolen from us. I missed my Vic. Missed being a couple. I was jealous of my own fucking upcoming nuptials. However, my best friend’s wedding wasn’t the time or place to vomit my concerns. “I’m sorry.”
Victoria shifted, crossed her tan legs, pulled her cell out of her clutch and thumbed through the multiple texts spanning her screen.
I forced my eyes forward and focused on the back of Ellis’s head, ignoring Vic’s rude behavior and avoiding another glance at the temptress standing next to Lacey.
“Hey.” An elbow dug into my ribs. “The girls just landed. How long is this going to take? They want to meet us at the club.”
Biting back profanities, I waited three breaths, then whispered, “You invited your friends? Seriously?”
Ellis and Lacey laughed. Elvis must’ve made a joke.
Angry eyes caught mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I get nervous and agitated around those two.” She pointed toward Natalie. “You have to understand how hard this is. They hate me. You get that, right?”
I didn’t answer. She wouldn’t have heard me anyway, her attentions back on her screen. Maybe I’d been wrong inviting her to Vegas.
Lacey and Ellis said their I do’s. They kissed. They danced while Elvis sang about wise men and falling in love. We cheered. We followed them to their limo, said our farewells, then watched while the newlyweds were swept away to the penthouse suite I’d gifted them for the weekend.
Natalie stood off to the side and wiped a tear from her cheek, watching passing cars.
Victoria yawned.
Martin clapped my shoulder. “Where are we kicking off the celebration?”
“Mind taking me back to our suite, babe?” Victoria laced her fingers through mine. “The girls are meeting me there. We’ll hit the shops for a bit, give you some guy time, then meet you later.”
I gave her fingers a squeeze. “Sure.”
“Perfect.” Martin rubbed his hands together, giving Natalie his back, a wild look in his eyes that promised trouble. “That leaves you and me and a whole lotta options.”
Yeah. I knew what that meant. Drinks. Gambling. Girls. I’d rather follow Victoria and her friends around than spend the evening babysitting Martin. Then again, if I didn’t keep a close eye on my playboy best friend, he might disappear for days, and we would not have our pilot come Sunday afternoon.
“Sounds like a plan.” I checked my watch. “Ellis made dinner reservations at eight. Should we meet at our suite, say seven thirty?”
Our black town car pulled to a stop in front of us. “Natalie, we’ll give you a ride to your hotel.”
“Oh, no.” She looked at everyone but me. “That’s fine. I’ve got an Uber coming. He’ll be here in five.”
“You can cancel.” She’d refused to stay in the same hotel as the rest of us, the rooms I’d bought.
“Really, it’s fine.”
Martin shoved past and ducked into the car.
“You have a free ride right here.”
“Don’t push, Cole. If she doesn’t want to come with us, it’s fine.” Victoria tugged on my arm. “She’s a big girl.”
Call it instinct, or manners, but I hated leaving her alone on the street. Still, I had no right forcing the subject. “We’ll see you for dinner?”
“See you tonight,” she said to her shoes, gnawing on her bottom lip.
I held the door while Martin and Victoria settled into their seats, then gave Natalie one more glance before folding into the buttery leather.
As we drove away, I refused to look back. Instead, I watched my fiancée, who wore a scowl while she watched Martin, who wrenched his neck to watch Natalie as we pulled into traffic.
Natalie wore a different dress to dinner. Pink straps tied around her neck created a plunging neckline and glorious cleavage, not that I was looking. Her cheeks glowed from too much sun, and she wore little, if any, makeup. Her hair was pulled into a complicated twist on top of her head. Her tone legs were on full display, and her stiff, bare shoulders were the only sign of her discomfort.
I slammed my drink and gestured to the waitress for another.
Natalie’s smile faded when I stood to greet her. “Where is everyone?”
I stepped around the table and pulled out a chair a safe distance from mine. She fell, more than sat, into the cushion.
I settled back into my seat. “Victoria decided to hit the clubs early with her girlfriends. Martin is passed out in my room. Ellis hasn’t returned my texts. It’s safe to assume we won’t hear from the newlyweds tonight.”
“Oh.” She stared at the empty shot glass in front of me. “I bet their neighbors are hearing plenty, though.” She laughed at her joke, then met my gaze. “Get it?”
I was speechless, confused, angered by my weakness around Natalie King. Disgusted by my inability to think straight.
“You know, ’cause they’re … ” She made a circle with her index finger and thumb on one hand, and pistoned her other index finger through the hole, making a funny face.
What a dork. What a gorgeous, delightful, perfect dork.
I laughed. She
laughed. Her shoulders relaxed.
I’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my life. “What’ll you have to drink?” I asked as the waitress came our way with my Johnnie Walker.
“Oh. I probably shouldn’t.”
“We’re celebrating.”
She snorted. “You know what? You’re right.” She lifted her chin, shifted in her seat, then said to the waitress, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
The waitress nodded. “Are you ready to order?”
“Give us a few minutes,” I responded.
“Of course.” She dipped her chin and backed away.
Natalie lifted her menu, hiding that gorgeous glow, giving me time to pull my fucking shit together, steel my spine against her unconscious attack on my morality, shoot a quick prayer to the Man Upstairs to strengthen my resolve.
She lowered the menu only enough to peek over the top. “I don’t know what any of this is.”
Although no longer hungry, I used my own menu as a barrier and pretended to consider my dining options, but caught myself studying Natalie instead.
Her dress blended perfectly with the pink, cream, and gold tones of the room. When she smiled, laughed, blinked, breathed, or just existed, I wanted nothing more than to claim her, make her mine, throw her on top of the table and show my appreciation for everything that she was.
I wanted to punish her for showing me everything that I wasn’t.
She was not safe in our private dining room. Neither was I.
“You know what?” I stood, pulled out my money clip. “What do you say we get out of here? Go someplace more—”
“I’d kill for a cheeseburger right about now.” Her menu hit the table with a smack, and she was on her feet. She finished my drink in one long swallow. “Come on. I know the perfect place.”
Fuck. I was so fucked. A gentleman would’ve taken her arm and escorted her through the busy restaurant. I shoved my hands into my pockets and wrapped my fingers around Cadence’s cross.
“I’ll try Lacey and Ellis again. See if they want to meet us.”
“Let’s go by your room, get Martin off his drunk ass,” she suggested, fiddling with the tie around her neck.
I dropped enough cash on the table to cover our failed dinner. When I looked up, our gazes locked, hers tormented, dropping to my mouth and then to the floor. “You should try Victoria again, too. She might be hungry by now.”
Good play, bringing my fiancée into the conversation. Smart woman, dropping that bucket of ice water over my faltering integrity.
I followed her toward the exit, and only by accident noticed the sway of her ass in that dress, only briefly appreciated the shape of her legs, only for one moment considered placing my hand on the small of her back.
While we waited for the car, keeping a safe distance between us, I asked, “They have drinks where you’re taking me?”
Martin must’ve caught his second wind. He was MIA. Victoria refused the invite, but made me promise to meet her and her girlfriends later.
Ellis and Lacey had worked up an appetite, thank fuck, and joined us on our trek to In-N-Out Burger, which did not, unfortunately, serve drinks. Lucky for me, I’d made sure the car was stocked with a wide variety of libations.
I was currently on my fourth? Fifth? Aw fuck, what did it matter? Ellis and I enjoyed a killer bottle of bourbon with a bag of burgers between us while we sat on the trunk of the town car. Lacey and Natalie sat on a blanket they’d spread in the grass and shared fries while they whispered and laughed, staring at the view.
Jeremy, our driver, had taken us to a “top-secret” location, a closed park that boasted the best view of the city skyline. That man had earned himself one killer tip because he had been right—the view was unreal.
The burgers were the bomb. The company was perfect. And I enjoyed a mind-numbing buzz. I only accidentally ogled Natalie twice.
Alcohol was to blame. Not the dress. Not her laugh or her smile.
We finished our meal. We joined Victoria and her girls at the club. I drank. I watched Victoria dance, joining her twice. I only accidentally, from the corner of my eye, caught a drunk asshole grinding against Natalie. I might have smiled when she pushed him away.
Victoria was surrounded by her friends, and she was happy. She laughed more than I’d seen her laugh in months.
Martin finally showed. He joined the girls on the dance floor. He danced too close to Natalie.
She allowed him to touch her for one song, then joined Ellis, Lacey, and me at the table, sweaty, breathless, and…playing with her breast? She dug around behind the fabric covering her left boob, then pulled out her cell and read the screen.
Her smile faded. “Seriously?” she mumbled, searching the room, eyes wide, panicked.
Before considering ramifications, I snatched the cell from her hand and read the screen.
I see you
Slut
Ugly whore
U should b working the streets, not the clubs
I should kill u now, save the planet
Turning my back to Ellis and his bride, shielding Natalie, I asked, “Who sent this?”
“I don’t know.” She gnawed her lip. “Don’t say anything to Lacey, please? It’ll ruin her night.” She reclaimed her phone. Tucked it back into the hidden compartment in her dress. “I haven’t gotten one of these since I ended things with Martin.”
“You think Holden followed you to Vegas?”
She looked over my shoulder, then made a quick assessment of our surroundings and said, “I need to go.”
“Jeremy will drive you,” I ordered, leaving no room for argument.
She replied, “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”
Natalie made an excuse to her best friend and said her goodbyes. I walked her to the car and waited while Jeremy merged into traffic and disappeared. Then, I dialed a longtime acquaintance who happened to head a personal security crew in town and made sure someone had an eye on Natalie for the rest of her time in Vegas.
Then, I called my buddy back home, Detective Waters.
When I returned to my friends, Martin came my way with a wicked grin on his face and lipstick smeared on his chin.
“Can’t keep it in your pants for a minute, can you?”
“Not surrounded by all this eager beauty.” He clapped my shoulder. “Where’s Nats?”
“Called it a night.”
His grin faltered but only for a blink. I let the details rest. He’d been stupid enough to let Natalie slip through his fingers. Her concerns were none of his business.
My only concern should have been my bride-to-be. “Anyone seen Victoria?”
Ellis pointed toward the back. “She headed for the restroom. Said she needed a touch-up.”
I ordered another drink. Victoria came back, fresh as a fucking daisy, tits on display, silver shiny dress covering only the required parts, legs begging to be parted in a pair of silver, glittery, fuck-me heels.
Her lips met mine, her breath a hefty dose of minty menthol. Her tits pressed against my chest.
“You having fun?” I growled in her ear, dragging my fingers up the length of her bare thigh.
“A blast.” She curled into me. “Where’s Natalie?”
I dared explore higher, breaching the hem of her dress. “She left.” I pulled her earlobe between my lips. “Think it’s time for us to go, too.” I stretched my fingers, dusting the curve of her ass. Fuck, it’d been so long since I’d touched her. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d made love.
She curled her face into mine, but she shifted her hips, pulling away from my touch. “Baby, I want you so bad right now, but I started my goddamn period.”
“You know I don’t care about that shit.”
Cupping her jaw, I pulled her in for a kiss. Her entire body stiffened.
“Vic,” came Martin’s voice over my shoulder, “one of your girls is getting sick in the bathroom. She’s asking for you.”
Victoria cussed into my m
outh. Pulled away. She brushed soft fingers through my hair and promised, “Let me go take care of this. Be back in a sec.”
Victoria didn’t return. Forty minutes later, she sent a text to tell me she’d taken her friends back to their hotel and would call for the car when she was ready.
Martin disappeared into the sea of women.
I ordered more drinks.
Jeremy drove Lacey, Ellis, and I back to our hotel.
I opened another bottle of Jack and waited. Alone.
Natalie
“Natalie.” Bang. Bang. Bang. “Natalie, open up!”
I stood at the door, eye to the peephole, and debated whether or not to proceed.
The man outside was clearly inebriated. He swayed where he stood, his eyes unfocused, his hair rumpled. He had no business being at my hotel room. I should’ve called security.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A man yelled from a few doors down. “Shut the fuck up!”
Oh, jeez. I couldn’t leave him out there to get arrested, or possibly beaten to a bloody pulp.
I opened the door and stood aside, anticipating the effects of alcohol mixed with gravity.
Much to my surprise, Cole didn’t fall.
Holding a bottle of Four Roses in one hand, he stumbled but caught himself on the wall. Paused. Gained his bearings. Turned his head to find me. “Natalie. Natalie King. Nat King.” He dropped his arms and swayed, then smiled and punched at this chest. “And Cole. Nat King Cole. Get it?” He laughed a hard belly laugh.
Tears streaming down his face, clutching his gut, he slid to the floor.
I closed the door, dug pain relievers out of my suitcase, snagged a water bottle out of the mini fridge, tossed the lid, then joined him on the carpet. We sat opposite each other, but a safe distance apart.
“What’s going on, Cole?”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked, eyes trying to focus but missing their target.
“Of course not. Why?” I offered him the bottle of water.
He swatted my hand away. “I love her, you know?”
“I know.” I didn’t know because, honestly, I knew nothing about their relationship. On purpose. Because it was none of my business.
L.O.V.E. Page 11
