We’d arrived about an hour ago and were close to wrapping up. The ceremony wasn’t long and neither was the procession. Neither Sam nor Beck were excessive people and they’d pared it down in their own special brand of perfunctory. The wedding party consisted of the same people that had been at the resort all week. There were no parents (all had since passed) or grandparents, no flower girl or ring bearer. Just Beck and Sam’s closest and dearest friends. And Jules.
Sam started the wedding at the head of the room, looking magnificent in his pressed tux, his dark hair slicked back, blue eyes shining with happiness.
As the music played, I walked down arm-in-arm with the Best Man, Mason. After us came Keegan and Jules, followed by Sarah and Henry. Bringing up the rear was Kylie in her element, with a man, Henry and Mac, on each arm. After the procession, the officiant said a few words and then Beck and Sam recited their vows. The rings were exchanged and then the kiss.
As Sam leaned toward Beck to kiss her, I glanced past them, my eyes landing on Mac. He’d been quiet all evening, but had played his part without complaining. As he watched Sam and Beck kiss, he looked genuinely unhappy. Not disgusted or angry. Just sad. Then his eyes flicked up to meet mine. I glanced away immediately, embarrassed he’d caught me looking.
After the practice ceremony, we loaded back up into the limos and headed back to the resort for the rehearsal dinner.
I found myself in the limo containing Keegan, Jules, Henry, Twain, and Mac. As I ducked into the doors, I immediately made eye contact with him again but broke it just as quickly. There was no place else to sit than right next to him. I did so gingerly, trying not to look like I cared at all.
“That was pretty damn easy,” said Keegan as we pulled away from the beach, following the limo containing the rest of the party. “Tomorrow should be a breeze.”
“That is, if nobody has anymore surprises for us,” Jules sniffed looking pointedly at Mac.
Mac muttered something that apparently only Twain could hear. Twain snorted a laugh and looked away out the window.
“What did you just say?” Jules asked.
Mac raised an eyebrow. “Did I say something?”
Jules glowered at him and he looked back with a bored expression.
“You looked beautiful out there,” Keegan said to Jules to distract her from fighting with Mac. Her lip curled into a smile at the compliment and she leaned over to give him an exaggerated kiss. Keegan looked embarrassed when she pulled away, but the expression quickly fled his face when he saw Twain.
“What?” he asked. Twain’s mouth was twisted in a smile that seemed to be barely holding back laughter.
The smile slipped easily away replaced with the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You look like something’s funny.”
“Funny? Never heard of the concept.”
Keegan glowered at him, but looked like he was going to move past it, putting his arm firmly around Jules.
Then Mac opened his big, fat, Irish mouth.
“It’s you, Keegan. That’s what’s funny,” Mac said. Despite his words, there wasn’t a sliver of humor in his voice. “If that’s even you in there.”
Keegan’s jaw set. “Watch it, Mac. Just because you’re a Knight doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass.”
Mac snorted. “And just because the season’s starting doesn’t mean I won’t break yours.”
“I don’t know what issue the two of you have, but—”
“Yer girl is a bitch and she’s turning you into one too.”
Dead silence in the car.
Mac looked around at our stunned faces and shrugged. “He asked.”
Jules and Keegan started at the same time.
“You son of a—”
“I’m gonna—”
But before they could even finish their sentences, the previously quietest person in the car roared over all of them.
“WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?” Henry’s boardroom voice bellowed in the confined space of the limo, silencing everyone.
“Listen, fuckers. I hate you all too. I want to go home too. But remember we are here for fucking Sam and fucking Beck and every one of us will smile and be fucking happy for the rest of the weekend. There’s been enough bullshit and I’m tired of it. Now just pretend to get along for the next forty-eight hours and you never have to see each other ever again.”
Everyone shut up. But in the silence, Mac’s mutter was all the more pronounced. “At least not until Sam’s next wedding.”
I glared daggers at him and this time he met my eyes with molten rage. I knew everyone else had heard it but Henry’s rare intrusion into, as he put it, the bullshit had quelled any further fighting. Mac and Keegan glared at each other all the way back to the resort (Jules glared too, but Mac didn’t even look at her).
The rest of the ride was silent and tense and I sighed in relief when we pulled up the drive to the main entrance.
Just before we parked, Twain, whose look of childish delight hadn’t strayed from his face through the entire fight, leaned toward Henry and said, “Mason would have been proud of that speech.”
“Shut up,” Henry said, but the words came with a slight laugh.
Unfortunately, Mac and I were the last two people to get out of the limo and so we walked almost side-by-side toward the resort.
I couldn’t help myself; God knows I tried. “Please don’t even mutter that bullshit around Beck,” I said without looking at him.
“What bullshit?” he asked.
I scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean.” I glanced at him when he was silent. His handsome face was bored. He raised an eyebrow. “About Sam having another wedding.”
Mac snorted and ran a hand through that thick, dark hair. “Like you don’t know it’s coming,” he said.
This guy… “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s completely obvious to everyone that isn’t an idiot. Look around you, Mac. You’re the only one existing in this delusion that Beck and Sam aren’t meant for one another.”
He stopped walking. “Well maybe yer all just idiots then.”
I gasped and whirled to face him. “You did not just call me an idiot.”
He bit his lip like he regretted his words but then powered on despite it. “I don’t think you are. But you’re acting like one. Come on, Alice. You’re smarter than this,” he said, waving at the resort. “The stupid traditions, the guests you invite for no good reason other than because ‘you have to’, the words you say that are completely meaningless.”
“And why do you get to decide they’re meaningless?” I demanded.
“Because even if you mean them then, you won’t mean them forever.” His voice rose. “Someone always leaves!”
“No they don’t,” I insisted. “That’s only something you’re telling yourse—”
“You did,” he said, cutting me off. “You left me. This morning. So don’t tell me it doesn’t happen.”
I stopped, confusion taking the place of anger. Then I realized what he meant and shook my head. “You’re so childish, Mac. Is this why you’ve been so annoyed all day? Sorry I took it from you.”
Now he looked confused. “Took what?”
“The exit. You wanted to prove your point. You wanted to be the one who left.”
“I didn’t—” he spoke sharply and stopped. Mac gazed up at the sky, his face working. Then he fixed me in that piercing green stare and said, “I didn’t want to leave.”
My heart stilled as we locked eyes and the weight of his words pressed against me.
I turned away from him and walked quickly toward the resort. I had to get away. Because I knew if I stayed a moment longer, I would have found myself in his arms.
I knew what he was trying to tell me, but I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it. I didn’t want to get burned. Not again.
Maybe he actually was.
21
Mac
The rehearsal dinner was held at The Blue Note, the nicest restaurant at the resort.
Sam had reserved a private room off the main floor so we wouldn’t be bothered by wedding guests coming to chat up Sam about real estate. Even so, it took a bit for Sam and Beck to make it into the room as they had to circle the main dining floor, greeting guests who were currently eating.
I watched their bright smiles, their mouths dropping in laughter, and knew Sam was full of shit. I didn’t know Beck that well so I had to assume this massive wedding was her idea. Sam, or at least, the Sam I knew, didn’t go for fancy frills and endless guest lists. And he definitely didn’t enjoy inquiring again and again ‘How was your flight?’ to people he didn’t give a shit about.
Sam was stone-cold, highly practical, a businessman in every sense of the word. Those walls came down around the Knights, and that was exactly what made our bond so special. To the world, we were bastards, but within Club Tempest, we could really be ourselves.
A week ago I would have looked away, disgusted by how much he was changing. But now? I watched him through the door to the private room. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to finally understand.
I wasn’t sure where that confession had come from outside, but it was true. I hadn’t wanted Alice to leave. I’d wanted to turn over and see those brown eyes staring back at me. Because it was exhausting being a bastard sometimes. And there were certain things I would never be able to get from the Knights.
I turned away from the door and sat down at the table. The group was in a heated discussion about the third big event of the evening: the bachelor and bachelorette parties.
“There has to be a stripper. At least one,” Twain insisted. He was talking to Jules. Unsurprisingly, she still wasn’t quite over the incident from the other night.
“There doesn’t have to be anything,” she countered. “Strippers are an antique, outdated, sexist, stupid tradition and I don’t want you having one.”
“That’s not really up to you, babe,” Henry said, pouring a glass of wine.
Jules ignored him and turned to her boyfriend. “Keegan?”
Twain raised an eyebrow and also looked at our friend. “Yeah, Keegan. Are we allowed?”
Keegan shifted in his seat. He looked annoyed at both of them. I didn’t feel sorry for him in the slightest. It was his fault for dating a controlling bitch. And besides, who the hell brings a date to a wedding?
I had a feeling Keegan was asking himself the same question, but they were waiting for an answer. He deflected it. “I’m not in charge of that. Mason organized the damn party.”
“Okay,” Jules said, turning on Mason, who was looking over the menu and seemingly not listening to a word that was being said. “Mason. No strippers.”
“Too late,” Mason said from behind the menu.
“What do you mean ‘too late’?” she demanded.
He lowered the menu and fixed her in his piercing silver-gray stare. “I mean there’s a girl coming from an hour away and she’s probably left already.” To the rest of us, he said mildly, “I hear she’s quite good.” He raised the menu again to continue looking.
Jules looked as if she might blow a valve, but Alice cut in. “We have a stripper too, Jules,” she said.
Jules paused. “You got Beck a stripper?” she asked like Alice had just suggested getting her grandmother a prostitute.
Alice shrugged. “It’s a Bachelorette party. It’s not serious. It’s supposed to be funny.”
“Yeah,” Sarah agreed. “My parents both had strippers and neither of them are into it at all.”
“And how did that go?”
“Apparently, Dad’s was scabby and Mom’s was greasy and kept trying to kiss her on the mouth.”
“Ew,” the table said in unison.
“It’s a funny story now, and according to them, it was then too,” she said, chuckling. “They’ve been married forty-five years so I don’t think it had any affect on their marriage.”
“What had any affect on whose marriage?” Beck was finally back, Sam in tow. He grimaced at me as he entered. My friend looked tired. All the meaningless niceties were starting to wear on him.
“Just debating the value of strippers at the parties tonight,” Kylie said. She changed the subject quickly. “How are the guests? There are a hell of a lot of them, huh?”
“There really are,” Beck agreed. She looked a little winded and held Sam’s hand tightly. “I’m having a hard time with the names.”
“So am I,” Sam admitted. He pulled Beck’s chair out for her and then sat in his own beside her. “I think ninety percent of these people came for the free trip.”
“Well, the important ones are here,” Mason said.
He was right. I glanced across the table again at Alice. She was dressed in a light blue shift, her hair pulled back simply. In the glow of the overhead lights, she looked ethereal.
It was out there now, how I felt. She’d walked away, but I’d felt the hesitation before she left. Alice felt the same way, but she was denying it to herself. Was it fear? Fear of another Daniel? I had been a fantastic ass all week, not to mention the very first time we met. But I felt the potential for us. Last night, I’d gotten the scent of love and after today, after that hesitation, that signal of hope, I had the hunger to chase it.
But first I needed to prove to her that I’d changed. It didn’t take more than a moment to know what I had to do. For better or for worse, I needed to put aside my issues with Sam and Beck. I still wasn’t certain that this wedding wasn’t going to change everything for us, but the longer I held onto my reservations, the further I pushed Alice away.
I stood up, raised my glass. The room stilled at the sight, bewilderment, a hint of tension. Alice raised those beautiful brown eyes to me, and I saw surprise and a dash of hope in them.
I cleared my throat, opened my mouth, and—
The doors to the private room exploded open. I turned around quickly, for some reason expecting to see the kid from Tuzas and his friends, armed with machine guns and ready to kill.
Once I saw who it actually was, I almost wished it was them.
Instead, the table started in shock at the bright red face of an explosively angry Edgar Lorne. He was flanked on all sides by his hulking bodyguards, and it was readily apparent exactly which one of us he was going for.
It didn’t take a genius to guess why.
The Knights all stood at the same time, even Twain. Jules pulled at Keegan’s hand, but he swatted her away. I would have laughed at the look on her face if the situation wasn’t so serious.
“Edgar,” Sam started, walking toward him. He almost reached him, but one of the bodyguards strong-armed him back. Sam’s face set in anger, but he didn’t push it, not yet.
“You son of a bitch!” Lorne yelled across the room, his eyes locked to mine. Everyone turned to look at me.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said firmly. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but—”
“What I’ve heard is that you slept with my wife!”
An audible gasp erupted from the wedding party. My eyes widened in horror. I couldn’t even look at Alice.
“She came to me in tears,” Lorne continued, “begging for my forgiveness. She said that you wouldn’t leave her alone, that you pressured her into your bed. But the guilt overwhelmed her. You think just because we have an age difference I can’t satisfy my wife?” He paused like that was an actual question he wanted me to answer honestly.
Deny, deny, deny. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I insisted. I glanced at Alice. The look she was giving me shattered all the hope I’d had only moments before.
“Mac, what the hell?” Sa
m said, turning to me. “Is that true?”
“No!” I said. “Of course not!”
“I have video,” Lorne growled. “Camera footage of you following her into hallways, into empty rooms.”
Dammit. Margot hadn’t been playing around. I couldn’t believe she’d risk everything just to put me in my place. I shook my head. “She asked me to,” I said. Sam’s face fell in disappointment, and I cringed at the sight. “But that was before I knew she was married.”
Lorne snorted. “Well isn’t that convenient. No, asshole. You messed with the wrong girl.” He nodded to his bodyguards. “Get him.”
My eyes narrowed and my fists itched. Well fine then. If this was the way he wanted it, I could use a fight.
The bodyguards advanced, but Sam stepped in front of them.
“No,” he said firmly. “We’re sitting down and figuring this out like men. You’re not putting your hands on him.”
“This is my resort, Sam,” Lorne said. “I’ll do whatever I want.”
The big bodyguard looked to his boss. Lorne nodded again, and the man went to push past Sam to get to me. Sam didn’t budge, a solid wall, and when the guard felt resistance, he raised a single beefy fist and punched Sam directly in the eye.
It all happened so fast, as these things often did. The moment Sam stumbled back, the entire room erupted into chaos.
I pulled Sam back and bashed the guard in the nose, sidestepping his slow fist and cracking him in the jaw. He stumbled, but the man was truly massive and wasn’t going down easily.
Sam was right back by my side swinging at a second guard. The two of them were so bulky and the room so small that their friends weren’t able to get around them easily.
The delay was enough time for Keegan and Mason to clamber over the fancy table, sending expensive dishes flying, and joining us before we were overwhelmed.
Speaking of flying dishes, Twain was chucking plates at everything that was moving. One caught the guy I was fighting in the nose and I pressed him, punching at his liver and yelling obscenities. I was vaguely aware of Henry pulling Sam back, yelling at him to not get his face busted up even more.
The Groomsman: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Billionaires of Club Tempest) Page 20