by Mari Carr
Tate glanced at Roman, who raised a brow.
“I’ll get one if you get one, Scarlet,” Roman said softly, trying to coax her toward the back of the plane to relax for a little while.
“Ha, I don’t have time.”
“Because you’re planning our surprise wedding?” Selene asked hopefully.
“I’m not a wedding planner.” Scarlet glanced at the trinity on the couch, scowling as if Selene had insulted her, even though at this moment, that’s exactly what she was.
“But you are a planner.” Selene smiled. “I’m sure if you were to plan a wedding, it would be lovely… You know I’ve always thought “All of Me” by John Legend would be a wonderful song for the first dance.”
“Cliché,” Oscar said. “Pearl Jam. ‘Future Days’.”
“Pearl Jam?” Selene huffed. “Seriously, Oscar?”
“I don’t know either of those songs,” Luca said, perking up at the mention of a first dance.
“I’ll play them for you later,” Selene said, her focus returning to Scarlet. “Hydrangeas are stunning in wedding centerpieces, don’t you think?”
Scarlet grunted, rolled her eyes, and looked at her tablet once more.
Oscar sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “As fun as all this dream wedding shit is, we’re getting distracted. All this not talking the three of them aren’t doing isn’t getting us any-fucking-where.”
Luca frowned, no doubt confused. English wasn’t the guy’s first language and between Oscar’s southern accent and way too many double negatives, Tate was even having trouble following along.
Oscar didn’t appear to notice as he plowed on. “I agree that there’s more going on here than we know. And I don’t think the two of you—” he motioned to Selene and Luca “—are marrying someone else. But I’m not sold on the idea that the three of us will be getting married when we get to Boston. I mean sure, the Grand Master might not have given me a letter just to fuck with me.”
“You’d deserve it too after the way you behaved when we were hunting for Luca’s sister. I told you not to provoke the Grand Master,” Selene said.
Oscar scowled, clearly not chastened. Tate got the feeling this wasn’t the first time Selene had hit Oscar with that particular “told you so.”
That suspicion was confirmed when Oscar flat out ignored it. “The Grand Master didn’t have to send me a letter. She knows I’d follow you two to the ends of the Earth.”
Tate made sure not to react, since that was exactly what had happened.
“But the fact remains Luca and I haven’t been members long enough to be called to the altar,” Oscar pointed out.
“And yet, Luca was sent a letter,” Selene said as if that negated the point completely.
Oscar, in addition to being grumpy as hell, was a suspicious bastard. “I still think there’s something more going on. I think the whole wedding thing is a front.” Oscar’s voice had dropped to a growl.
Scarlet was still and glanced over the top of her tablet at Tate, who returned her look.
Oscar looked at Selene and Luca. “And I think that whatever shitty mission the Grand Master is about to send us on is still better than what she’ll do to us when she finds out what we did to them.” He gestured to Roman, Scarlet, and Tate.
Tate couldn’t help it. He grunted in agreement. The Grand Master would be pissed if they told her about the stun gun, the torture, and how the trio sitting in front of them had spent the better part of yesterday plotting to do the unspeakable. To run from the Trinity Masters rather than remain true to their vow to obey.
“They’re not going to tell her,” Selene announced.
Though he’d just thought that, Tate turned on her. “Is that a threat?”
“Does it need to be?” Selene asked smoothly.
“Honey, you don’t have a leg to stand on,” Tate pointed out.
“Don’t call her ‘honey’,” Oscar snapped. “She’ll rip your throat out.”
“Okay, sugar bear.” Tate made a kissy face at Oscar.
Luca sighed and shook his head at Tate as he placed his hand on Oscar’s arm, gripping tightly as the man tried to rise.
Oscar’s massage may as well have never happened. He went from relaxed to tense as hell in the blink of an eye. “Blow me another kiss,” Oscar taunted. “I dare you.”
“You’re not my type,” Tate retorted, revealing more than he should have when he glanced in Roman’s direction.
Roman winked covertly and Tate’s cock twitched. Jesus. The second they got off this plane, he was dragging Roman and Scarlet back to the hotel for round two, this time without the annoying fucking music.
“Please,” Luca said. “I think now would be a good time for calmer heads to prevail.”
Roman leaned forward, nodding. “I agree. Selene, stand down and call off your pit bull.”
Selene narrowed her eyes. “I will if you get your soldier boy in line.”
Tate was torn between snarling at being called a soldier boy or grinning over the fact Selene had referred to him as Roman’s.
Perhaps he should do a Google search to see if there were any lingering effects as a result of being tased because it felt like some of his synapses had been fried, and now they were firing wildly.
Roman glanced over at Tate, exasperation rife in his expression. “The fact that Selene is my favorite cousin should explain a lot to you about my extended family.”
Selene laughed. “My sister, Theia, is like me, but smarter, and with less self-control.”
And just like that, the tension between the warring factions broke as everyone looked at Selene in mild horror.
Before Tate could offer reassurance that he had never intended to tell the Grand Master what Selene, Oscar, and Luca had done, Scarlet intervened, her gaze locking with Selene’s.
“We’re not telling on you. Snitches get stitches. Besides, I’ve…” Scarlet stopped mid-sentence and hesitated just long enough that it was obvious she’d been about to say something she shouldn’t. “I’m over this whole thing already,” she added lamely, dropping her eyes back to her tablet.
A sly smile grew on Selene’s face. “Wonderful. And now that we have that settled, why don’t I pull up my Pinterest and show you some fun candy I’ve seen that would be great in a candy bar?”
Scarlet’s lip curled. “Candy bar…” She stood. “Didn’t you say something about a massage, Roman?”
“Coward,” Selene said, trying to disguise the word as half cough, half laugh.
Scarlet shot the woman a withering glance but said nothing to defend herself.
Tate followed them through the curtain, to the back of the jet. The masseuse, who’d been sitting, stood up, but Scarlet shook her head when the woman asked if they’d like a massage or facial.
“No, thank you. We’re landing soon. I was hoping we could steal a few minutes back here alone.”
The masseuse nodded and then walked to the front of the plane to chat with the flight attendant. Scarlet drew the curtain behind her.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “I almost cracked out there. Almost said I wasn’t about to do anything that would keep this wedding from happening,” she confessed quietly. “Selene is…” Scarlet glanced at Roman, and it was obvious she just realized she was about to say something unflattering about his cousin.
Roman chuckled, and then reached over, placing a comforting hand on the back of Scarlet’s neck as he pulled her toward him. “She’s a pain in the ass,” he murmured, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Tate watched the two of them embrace for just a moment before shifting closer, needing to be a part of them, not apart.
He placed his hands on Scarlet’s hips, erasing the distance between their bodies as his chest brushed against her back.
Roman kept one hand on Scarlet’s neck, while the other traveled over her shoulder to cup Tate’s face. “I want another night—tonight—with the two of you,” Roman confessed. “We still have our
rooms at the hotel. There’s a king-sized bed in mine that’s perfect for what I have planned ,and it’s much more comfortable than that mattress on the floor.”
Tate smiled and nodded, grateful they were on the same page. Yesterday had been amazing...everything...and nowhere near enough.
“No,” Scarlet said, stepping out from between them.
Tate’s chest constricted. Shit. They hadn’t had time between last night and now to discuss what happened next. All Scarlet had asked for was a distraction, a fantasy. Perhaps he and Roman had simply been more “ménage practice.”
Tate felt a hell of a lot less casual about what they’d shared. And the irony of that wasn’t lost on him, considering this mission. Oscar, Selene, and Luca had—unwisely—fallen in love, knowing they weren’t free to choose one another. As Tate looked at Roman and Scarlet, he found himself wishing they were his. And not just for another night or two.
“Scarlet,” Roman said.
One look at the other man’s face told Tate that he hadn’t been the only one affected by what they’d shared.
Scarlet must have noticed their distress because she rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, guys. We’re definitely spending the night together. And we won’t be sleeping, either.”
Tate smiled widely until she added, “Because you two are now part of my event staff.”
Chapter Eight
“You go full Liam Neeson on this guy if you have to, but you get me those up lights.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tate accepted the sheet of paper with a salute. It was an estimate from a lighting company for—he glanced at it—twelve gold up lights plus labor, delivery, and breakdown. Tate glanced at the number and dialed, clearing his throat once while it was still ringing.
Fifteen minutes later, he handed her back the paper.
Scarlet looked up. She was wearing a headset, had her folio open on one arm, and her assistant—a non-Trinity-Masters-member who had been ready to call the cops when Scarlet didn’t join their all-important final walk-through phone call, which she was supposed to have done from their hotel room in Charleston—at her side. Scarlet had always planned to do the final prep and walk-through remotely, then be hands-on for last minute prep. With the time list she was in triage mode, and her assistant, whose hands had been tied without her, just wasn’t enough manpower.
Scarlet raised a brow.
“He’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Tate assured her.
“Did you threaten him?” Scarlet’s assistant, Rhea Conway, asked eagerly. The young woman seemed far too high strung for this sort of work. Also, bloodthirsty.
“Explained Ms. Hall was no-comm for several days.”
Rhea nodded in satisfaction. “You scared him with military lingo. I like it.”
Scarlet smiled, then said, “Thank you.”
Tate turned casually toward the door, well, doors, since the ballroom had multiple sets of them. He was halfway to safety when Roman spotted him.
“Hey, Tate, you can come help me with these.”
Tate bared his teeth at his lover. Roman’s mouth kicked up in a small, smug smile.
With a disgruntled sigh, Tate trudged over, weaving between the scattered small round and square tables, which the hotel staff was setting for dinner. Some tables already had their centerpieces. Beautiful gold ombre hurricane lanterns in graduated sizes—Tate was a little sad he now knew what gold ombre hurricane lanterns were—with fat white candles inside and silvery sage in bud vases. Stripping sage and putting it in bud vases had been his job last night, and his hands still smelled like the herb. The tables with nothing were waiting for the celebrity florist to deliver arrangements of silver-and-gold tone flowers—silvery Dusty Miller amid gold Marie Claire roses, with fat white hydrangea blooms—a last minute addition as a nod to what Selene had said on the plane—and silver silk ribbon.
Tate had seen the floral bill. It was five figures. He’d nearly had a heart attack.
Slipping around the last table, he passed through a break in the “air wall” that would be used to divide the room in half, separating the reception space from the ceremony area.
Roman had been assigned to ceremony setup detail. The ballroom itself was pretty enough that Tate would have thrown in some chairs, maybe a couple tall flower arrangements, and called it a day.
Scarlet was transforming the space. Twelve freestanding, massive columns marched along the outside of the edges of the guest chairs. There weren’t many—secrecy meant that Oscar’s parents—nonmembers—wouldn’t be there, though Walt, as well as Langston and his trinity, would be. Apparently Oscar’s sister, Sylvia, hadn’t been invited to the intimate affair, due to the fact the Grand Master was still a bit tweaked that she’d chosen to join the Masters’ Admiralty rather than the Trinity Masters.
Selene’s family would be there as well. In fact, somewhere in the hotel above them, Selene’s sister, Theia, and mother were helping her try on the wedding dresses Scarlet had selected and had pre-tailed to her general measurements.
Luca wouldn’t have anyone here, so Tate had privately decided that he would stand in as the Italian’s family. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant—but he didn’t want Luca to feel left out.
Tate went to help Roman wrestle the large, white blocks that were the backdrop for where the trinity would stand for the ceremony. Technically, this was neither a legal wedding nor the official Trinity Masters’ wedding.
According to Scarlet, Oscar, Selene, and Luca would get dressed here at the hotel and then be escorted, by Andre, to the library for their binding ceremony. After that, they’d come back to the hotel for this special never-before-done “wedding” which would be a repetition of the binding ceremony, with a few tweaks. The ceremony here was going to be performed by Sebastian, standing in for the Grand Master as an authority figure of the Trinity Masters.
Tate glanced at the diagram Roman showed him, then helped move the block, which was about three feet square, into place. They were essentially building a wall, which he didn’t understand when there was a perfectly good actual wall behind them.
“They light up,” Roman said, though Tate hadn’t asked a question.
“Huh?”
“If you’re wondering why we’re doing this, these things light up. And there’s a custom overlay. Look, you have to match it up.”
It took Tate, Roman, and the two men from the event rentals company another forty minutes to get everything set up. Scarlet walked in just as they finished. She glanced around, flipped a few pages in her folder, and looked around again. Tate and Roman held their breath, waiting to see if they’d done a good enough job.
Scarlet smiled.
Tate blew out a long sigh and braced his hands on his knees. “Thank god.”
“I didn’t feel this accomplished when I wiped out that North Korean money laundering operation.” Roman braced a hand on Tate’s back.
Tate turned his head. “I’m sorry, when you did what?”
Roman gave him a bland look.
“Thank you.” Scarlet’s words made them look up. She’d pulled her headset down to hang around her neck. “Normally I would do this setup, but I’m playing catch-up with all the confirmations and timeline stuff I wasn’t able to do yesterday.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d said that, and they simply nodded. Roman started to hum Baby Shark, and Tate elbowed him in the stomach. Roman groaned, but he was smiling.
“Alright, general, what else do you need?” Tate had given up hope of escape. “We are yours to command.”
Scarlet’s lips twitched. “Well, I do need someone to taste test the signature cocktails.”
Tate and Roman both raised their hands.
She laughed. “Come with me. I brought in a mixologist from New York for this, and he just got here.”
“Fancy,” Roman said. “But, if you need us to do something else...”
Roman looked at Tate, frowning slightly. Tate nodded in understanding.
“You agreed to tak
e a nap. You were up almost all night. We’re not letting you exhaust yourself,” Tate said.
Scarlet paused and arched a brow. “Letting me?”
Tate cleared his throat. “I’m a henchman. I will haul you up to my room and tie you to the bed if I need to.”
“...to make sure you get some rest,” Roman said mildly, but his gaze skittered down Scarlet’s body.
“Right, that.” Tate nodded.
Scarlet’s lips twitched. “Let’s have some drinks, and then, if you’re still willing—and I know neither of you signed up for this—I could use some more help. If we hurry, there will be time for a nap, since guests won’t start arriving until 8:30 p.m., with the ceremony at 10:00 p.m.”
“Have you eaten today?” Tate asked, and then looked at Roman. “Either of you?”
“Drinks...and some food,” Scarlet amended. “But I can only give this break twenty-five minutes, max.”
“Make it thirty, and Tate will threaten people into working faster,” Roman said.
“Why am I the one threatening?” Tate crossed his arms as he said it.
Roman arched a brow, letting the look answer his question.
Tate glanced down, chuckling at his badass Marine stance. “Got it.”
Scarlet smiled, and some of the tension drained from his shoulders. “You know what? We make a good team.”
Tate looked around at them, the three of them. “Yeah...we do.”
They made a really good team.
They’d make an even better trinity.
Chapter Nine
Nantucket, Two Days Later
Scarlet bounced on her toes—partly due to the cold January wind whipping from the water and partly because she was excited—as Roman slipped the key into the door of their cottage. Tate stood beside her, carrying his duffel and her suitcase.
Selene, Oscar, and Luca had surprised them the morning after the wedding with an all-expenses paid week at this waterfront cottage in Nantucket.
She wished she could have been there when Oscar finally realized that yes, he was getting married. It probably would have been ridiculously romantic. But that had happened during the official binding ceremony at headquarters. She’d made sure they got into the limo in time to make the ceremony and greeted the happy throuple when they returned to the hotel just before eight. She never got emotional when she was working, but the way Oscar, Selene, and Luca had looked at each other had been enough to make her throat tight with happy tears.