Wild Temptation (Wild, #1)(9)

By: Emma Hart

“Give me five minutes.” I hang up and sigh.

I don’t know who’s more stressed over this wedding—her or me. If there’s not something going wrong, like the bridal store ordering in the wrong size shoes, then she’s asking me a bunch of questions about the bridal shower and bachelorette party.

Are they done yet? Have I organized anything? Do I have any idea what I’m doing?

Someone needs to remind her that shit is a surprise.

I brush my hair from my face and dump some biscuits in Angus’s bowl in response to his incessant mewing. “Oh, don’t look at me that way,” I say at his affected look. “You can’t always have the canned food. There’s nothing wrong with cat biscuits, you little snob.”

Besides, I need to visit the store. Later.

I get behind the wheel of my car and head in the direction of Dayton’s apartment. Given the distress in her voice, the fuck-up is a good one, so I brace myself for a meltdown. I even check my glove box at some lights for a bottle of Tylenol.

I park in the underground parking lot next to her BMW and key in the unlock code for Aaron’s penthouse elevator. And yes, I roll my eyes. A keypad for an elevator.

“Tell Aaron he needs to get rid of that keypad. It’s so stupid,” I say, walking into the apartment without knocking.

Dayton waves her hand. “Whatever. Liv, disaster. It’s a disaster.”

“What, did the venue burn down or something?”

She shoots an evil look my way at my sarcasm. “Knowing my luck, it probably will. If she weren’t forbidden from any contact with us, I’d put my money on Naomi fucking around with my plans.”

“So what’s the problem?” I sit opposite her at the bar.

“The caterer is going out of business.”

Well, shit. That’s a kick in the balls right there.

“Aaron Stone is paying him to cater for his wedding and he’s going out of business?” I raise my eyebrows.

“I just… Where am I going to find anyone able to cater for us at short notice?”

“Um, it’s not like it’s tomorrow.”

She groans and clicks at her laptop. “No, no, no!” She drops her head to the bar. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes are supposed to be champagne, not fucking ivory!”

She is really not having a good day. I pat her shoulder. “There, there, Bridezilla. You have three months still to chew their asses out until they get it right.”

“Liv, with the amount Aaron is paying them to get it right, I shouldn’t have to be chewing asses.” She sits up, sighing heavily. “This is crazy. Why can’t we just elope in some exotic country and get married without all this fancy crap?”

I laugh at the thought. Yes, Dayton would forgo her dream wedding for a small party on a beach somewhere. Sure.

I close her laptop down and stand up. “Okay, babe. Let’s get you a drink. You and I both know you wouldn’t want to have this any other way.”

“I know. I just… It’s three months away and already I’m being bogged down by shit. Why can’t these people just get things right?”

I fill two glasses of wine and put them on the table between us. “Listen to me, Dayton. You will get this fixed. Has Aaron chosen his best man yet?”

Distraction is the best policy. In this case, it’s by wine and a rare instance of Aaron’s incompetence. Here’s hoping she says he has…

“Yes. He had him picked three months ago. He just got his ass in gear and asked him.”

“Who is it? Anyone hot and rich from his company?”

Hey, distraction is the best policy. I could use a good distraction.

I grab her laptop and open her email.

Day snorts. “His cousin. Although, Tyler is hot and rich. And kind of from the company. I mean, he’s a photographer. He’s the guy training me. I don’t know how you two haven’t met yet. Hmm.”

Wait. Did she just say?

Fuck no. This is an awful, awful, coincidence that my best friend’s fiancé happens to have a cousin named Tyler who’s a photographer, right? Seattle is a big place. It’s totally plausible.

Still, I feel my cheeks flush, and Dayton frowns.

“Uh, Liv?”

“Um.” Cue nervous giggle. “Did you say Tyler? A photographer?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Does he happen to be British?”

A beat of silence passes before, “Yes.”

Oh, fucking crap.

“I know him already,” I squeak out.

Dayton tilts her head to the side, looking at me blankly. “Well, I suppose that will make everything easier. Maid of honor and best man thing. You guys have to get along.”

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