The Groomsman: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Billionaires of Club Tempest)

by Sloane Hunter

  “Is it good?” Sam asked.

  “Hell yeah it’s good. Or, it better be anyway. The casks have been sitting for a while now, but we’re cracking one in a couple months. You can come taste it with me.”

  “You know I never turn down free whiskey,” Henry said. “Which is why we’re friends, I think.”

  “Feck off,” I said, pushing the elevator button. “You in?” I asked Sam.

  “We’ll see,” Sam said vaguely, and the statement brought me back to earth again. In two months Sam would be married. Who knew what Beck would be allowing him to do, but I suspected letting him disappear with his friends to get drunk ‘for work’ wouldn’t be high on that list.

  I changed the subject, but not far from the one on my mind. “Keegan’s girl is smoking.”

  “Jules?” Sam said. “Yeah, sure is. She’s modeling in the Paris fashion week right after we get back.”

  Henry scoffed. “Of course she is. But I’m surprised Beck let her on the bridesmaids team. Isn’t that supposed to be close friends only?”

  Sam shrugged. “If you’re wondering if I asked her to, I didn’t. I think they’ve gotten close? Keegan’s been with her for six months. I’m surprised neither of you have met her.”

  “Probably because we don’t do ‘couples night’,” I sneered.

  “Maybe you will soon,” Sam said casually, not rising to the bait. “You and Kylie are getting along, Henry.”

  We exited the elevator, but stayed standing in the hall. Henry raised his hands. “She’s hot, sue me. Also pretty damn funny. But come on. We’ll probably hook up this week, but you know me. I’m single and happy.”

  “So was I,” Sam said with the all-knowing voice of someone who’d unlocked the secrets to the universe.

  I ground my jaw at his tone, but didn’t worry too much. The day Henry Blackburn settled down would be the same day my wife of ten years gave birth to our fourth child.

  “Speaking of which,” Henry said, looking at me with a stupid smile on his face, “you and Alice seem chilly.”

  “Who?” I asked, trying to sound genuine. They both laughed.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Henry said. He checked his watch. “I’m going to get changed, probably shower too. Meet back here in a half hour?”

  “Make it forty-five minutes,” Sam said. “I want to at least attempt to unpack.” He paused and then groaned. “I forgot I’m not on the same floor as you.” He pressed the elevator button, summoning it to take him away. “The private elevator sounds a lot better in theory,” he grumbled as the doors closed behind him.

  “Well,” Henry said to me, “see ya in a bit.”

  He left and I checked my key again. I could never remember which room was mine. 7605. I walked down the hall to the number, repeating it in my head to try to retain it. Then I opened the door and started in surprise.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked Mariana. She rose from the couch and walked to stand across the room from me, an unreadable expression on her face. I raised an eyebrow. “Did you want to finish what we started?”

  She flushed. “No! We never should have done that in the first place.”

  “Hey love, you were just as eager. Hell, it wasn’t my idea to do it in a public bathroom.”

  “You were supposed to lock the door!”

  “Then it looks like mistakes were made all around. Why are you here?” I asked, trying to get to the point. Mariana was supposed to take my mind off my problems, not give me a new one.

  “Did Alice tell Beck?” Mariana’s pretty face was taut with anxiety.

  “She said she wouldn’t. But she might anyway.” I shrugged and threw my towel over the back of a chair, peeling my shirt off. “Shouldn’t you be talking to her about this?”

  Mariana looked away.

  “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “Are you not?” she asked, looking aghast.

  “Not particularly,” I said. I smirked. “I don’t really have anything to be embarrassed by.”

  She rolled her eyes. Apparently I was overestimating her capacity for banter. Oh well.

  “Is that all you wanted?” I asked. “Because I need to take a shower and unless you want to be a part of that, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  She ignored me. “Do you think I should quit?” she asked, starting to pace, practically wringing her hands. “If Beck and Sam find out about this, they’re going to fire me.”

  “They aren’t going to find out,” I repeated. “And what’s the difference between quitting and getting fired anyway? At least one isn’t a guarantee.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “It’s less humiliating,” she said. “I can’t believe you didn’t lock the door! Literally the only thing you had to do.”

  I went into the bathroom while she talked, flipping the light on and admiring the shower and jacuzzi. “You gotta stop living in the past, love,” I called out to her. “It’s over and, if you want some advice, I’d suggest not regretting it too much. It was fun up until the end.” I peaked my head around the corner. “You sure you don’t want to….”

  She rolled her eyes again and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. I shook my head and retreated into the marble bathroom. A pity, but not much of a waste. Screwing the wedding planner was supposed to be my very subtle ‘screw you’ to this entire disaster, but the noise echoed louder than I’d wished. Just about the only good thing that’d come out of it was the look on Alice’s face when she’d made eye contact with my dick.

  I chuckled to myself as I stepped under the shower. A few more moments like that and I just might be able to survive this week.

  6

  Alice

  Our small group walked around the beach and resort grounds until six o’clock. By then we had our fill of scouting for the evening and went back to the room to get ready for the fun.

  Beck and Sarah led the way talking excitedly about plans and first drinks. Keegan and Jules walked a bit behind them, hand-in-hand, looking tall and rich and beautiful.

  That left Mason and me to bring up the rear. We walked in silence, mostly because Mason and I were distracted by Kylie.

  Kylie was texting, expertly dodging obstacles as she walked with her face in her phone, typing fifty words a minute without a care for her surroundings. Mason looked at her questioningly and then to me for some sort of explanation. I couldn’t give one. The only possibilities that came to mind were that she finally got the inspiration to draft her novel or the governor urgently needed a speech and for some reason she was the only one available. We watched, dumbfounded, as Kylie headed directly for a column and then, at the last moment, side-stepped it, immediately stopping short to let two kids run by before speeding up to catch up with our friends, all without skipping a beat.

  “I think she might be able to teach me how to be more productive,” Mason observed. He said it dryly, which seemed to be his default setting. Keegan, Henry, and Sam bit and snapped at each other playfully like a pack of dogs, switching between sarcasm, good humor, and borderline hostility so fast and frequently that, as an observer, it was hard to keep up. Comparatively, Mason at first glance, seemed as gray as his eyes and hair. It took a bit of observation to see his role in the dynamic. He was the steady presence, muting the harshness of the others. He reminded me of Beck in my own friend group, the practical, realistic one, the one everyone went to when real shit was going down.

  That wasn’t to say that he didn’t fit in though. Mason had a biting wit, a piercing tongue that shot comebacks and bards just as surely as Henry’s did, all in that same dry tone.

  I was sure that, under normal circumstances, Mac was in there with them, a bulldog contrasting Mason with his abrasive temper and crude remarks. Instead, the entire time at the pool, he sat kicked back in a chair under the sun with his sunglasses on and his shirt off, his powerful chest darkening as the hours ticked by. It was hard to tell if he was sleeping or listeni
ng in on the conversations. Occasionally, in the pool, I thought I could feel his eyes on me.

  I had blamed his silence on the incident in the bathroom, but now, as I walked back to the room, I wasn’t quite sure. Mac hadn’t seemed embarrassed at all completely naked. Surprised, yes, but he hadn’t even made a move to cover himself.

  On the other hand, it didn’t seem to mesh with what I knew of his personality for him to become withdrawn around other people. But, the other Knights didn’t seem to notice or care that he wasn’t joining in on the fun. Maybe there was something else going on with him. Not that I cared, of course.

  Any questions I’d had about Mac’s personality on the plane had disappeared. He was a dick, an asshole, a selfish bastard. Who the hell slept with the wedding planner days before the wedding in an unlocked public bathroom? Nobody would give a shit if he was kicked out, but we needed Mariana! I needed Mariana if Beck was to have any fun at all this week.

  She was supposed to be in control and I was seriously doubting her capabilities after this incident. It was too late to fire her though; she knew too much. And by too much, I meant she knew everything. Everything about the wedding and how it would function and when the band was arriving and who sat next to who and which people to talk to at the resort for which problems. The woman was fantastic at her job, obviously, but apparently not so great at resisting Mac fucking Walsh.

  Can you blame her? The question hijacked my thought process and I glowered as if Mac had personally implanted it himself, Inception-style. Yes, I could blame her and I would. But what I wouldn’t do was tell Beck about it. All that would do would make things awkward and awful, putting unneeded strain on the wedding. And as much as I hated helping Mac get away with something, it was really only Beck who mattered.

  “What’s on your mind?” Mason asked me. I realized I’d never responded to his observation of Kylie who was still typing away. I probably looked just as intense, with a furrowed brow and angry eyes.

  “Nothing,” I lied. Mason didn’t push it.

  “You and Beck met in college?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Kentucky State. We were roommates freshman and sophomore year. I know there’s a stereotype about shitty dorm roommates in college, but Beck and I hit it off right away. From Welcome Week to the end of sophomore year, we were best friends.” I smiled, wistful at the memories. “We were both from small towns, farming communities in the middle of nowhere. Both worked hard in school to get scholarships, both had dreams of moving to the biggest city we could find. We had so many firsts together, and we kept each other moving. It was horrible when she had to leave.”

  Mason smiled. “But you found each other again,” he said.

  “Sometimes dreams do come true, even if not in the way you’d expect them to. I thought about Beck all the time back in Gainesville, living with that asshole. When she called asking if she could move in with me, I couldn’t believe we were getting a second chance.”

  I watched the honey-blonde hair bounce up ahead as she talked excitedly with Sarah. We really had come a long way since those dorm room days, dreaming of the future.

  “How did you meet Sam?” I asked.

  “Mac introduced us,” he replied.

  “Really?” I asked. I had expected the cool-tempered Sam to have befriended Mason first.

  Mason chuckled slightly at the surprise in my voice. “Yeah, sometimes I find it odd as well.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his steely-gray eyes. “I know how Mac comes off, but trust me, there isn’t anyone better in the world to have in your corner. The man would rip out his eyes if it meant his friends would be able to see.”

  Somehow I couldn’t picture that at all. Mac seemed more like the type of guy to screw your girlfriend while your back was turned. (Or maybe just your wedding planner.)

  “That’s not to say he always makes the right decisions, far from it,” Mason added. “But the man is as loyal as they come.”

  I didn’t comment. I didn’t really want to talk about Mac. Every time his name came up, his face and then his dick flashed across my mind. Neither of which I wanted to see.

  I changed the subject, talking with Mason about his art and his next exhibition until we parted in the hallway, he and Keegan to their private suites and the girls and myself to our shared unit.

  We spent the next couple hours alternating between snacking, lounging, doing hair and makeup, and getting dressed. I wasn’t going fancy — simple jeans and a t-shirt, heels but not so large that I couldn’t walk right. The others were in varying stages of dress — jeans like myself (Beck), a sundress (Sarah), and tight, short club dresses (Kylie and Jules).

  “You going somewhere we’re not?” I asked the latter two with a laugh.

  Kylie flipped her hair. “We’re going to work,” she said. “Or, at least, I am. Jules already has a man.”

  “But I could always use another,” Jules added. “Keegan’s always talking about a threesome. And I’d be down.”

  “Yeah,” Kylie snorted. “That’s the kind of threesome that Keegan wants.”

  Jules shrugged and walked her long legs over to the mirror to poof her hair and examine her makeup. “Keegan might just have to compromise.”

  “Are we ready?” Sarah asked, coming out from the bathroom. “I’m so excited!”

  “Just about,” I said. “Beck, have you heard from Sam?”

  She came out of her bedroom where she’d been changing and nodded. “Yeah, they’re at the casino. He said they passed a steak place just outside the doors if you want to go there for dinner.”

  There was a general agreement and Beck texted Sam to stay put at the tables so we could meet them there.

  The casino was a slice of Vegas with a tropical twist. The walls swam with brightly colored fish and strains of ‘lava’ that flowed through the rock designs intersecting the aquariums. The guys were spread out amongst the table games, some playing craps, others blackjack. I saw Mac at the roulette table and, before I could stop myself, found my feet heading toward him.

  He leaned against the table, one hand gripping the wood. The corded muscles in his forearm rippled as he flexed his fingers one by one, hooded eyes fixated on the wheel. “Feck,” he muttered as the ball landed somewhere he obviously didn’t want it to go.

  “Maybe you should pick a game with a bit more skill,” I said, mirroring his lean against the table.

  Mac looked at me and then back behind him at his friends playing their games. Then he cocked an eyebrow and released his grip on the table. “They’re only fooling themselves. There’s just as much skill in the wheel as there are in the dice and cards, especially the way Keegan plays blackjack. At least with roulette there aren’t any pretensions.” He accented his point by placing rainbow-colored chips wildly around the table and turning back to me. “But that being said, I’ll have you know I’m as lucky as a man can get, darling.”

  “We must talk about these nicknames,” I said, grimacing.

  “In that you can’t get enough of them?”

  “In that I’m starting to think you don’t know my real name.”

  “Forty-seven black,” the dealer announced. We turned in unison to look at the board just as the dealer scraped away all his chips.

  “Not so lucky this time around,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I’m always lucky, you know why?”

  I shook my head.

  “No matter how much I lose, I always win. Because I’ll still be fecking rich.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you’ll just throw your money away for no good reason? That sounds responsible.”

  “Hey, remember?” he tapped his chest. “No pretensions. This entire week is just as much a waste of money as anything I do here at this table. Just with a prettier bow wrapped around it. So don’t try any moral high ground with me.”

  I frowned. “What issue do you have with this wedding?”

  “With this particular one?” he asked, pushing more chips out. “I have no issue. None at al
l.” The complete lack of emotion in his voice made the words ring false. “It’s marriage in general I dislike.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a waste of time. It’s a waste of money. It ties you down to one person. It doesn’t last.” He counted off the reasons on his fingers. “Do I need to continue?” he asked, fixing me in his shining green eyes. “Because I can.”

  “Then why the hell did you come here?” I asked, annoyed. “Why didn’t you stay in New York? Or are you one of those people who can only get off once they make everyone around them miserable?”

  “Nineteen black,” the dealer said.

  “Feck,” Mac cursed again. To me, he said, “First off, usually if I’m getting off, everyone involved is having a great time. But if you want an honest answer, it’s because, between you and me, I think Sam’s lost his head. And it’s up to me to be there for him when he wakes up from this ridiculous dream.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked. I examined his earnest face carefully, trying to decide if he was messing with me or not. “You’re here to talk him out of getting married?” As prepared as I thought I was for this weekend, this was a problem I hadn’t foreseen. Not in the slightest.

  “Not talk him out. Just encourage him when he comes to the realization himself.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “When those survival instincts start to kick in, bleeding hearts like Mason are going to convince him not to listen to his gut, which is the most dangerous thing a man can ignore.”

  “And like me,” I said, voice rising. “Because you’re delusional or maybe just stupid if you think that Sam is going to randomly decide that he doesn’t want to marry Beck.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Mac said. “But I still have hope for him. I don’t think he’s too far gone.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “I didn’t come over here for you to—”

  “Why did you come over here?” he asked, cutting me off. The playful tone he’d entertained before had slipped at the talk of the wedding. “Because you’re certainly not contributing to anything.”