Best Man with Benefits Page 7

  Or, no, even better, she was one of those monkeys with the red asses who—

  “So, we don’t have to call it a date. We can have, like, a friendly hangout or whatever. That’s all it will be. Just two friends.”

  “We’re not friends,” Jacob replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish my brunch in peace.”

  Trisha’s eyes went round as saucers. Her mouth popped open, exposing the red line of lipstick along the inside of it, and the pink beyond. A noise escaped her, a soft groan barely audible above the clatter of cutlery and the talk from further down the table. She stared for a minute longer, then blinked and looked down at her plate, utterly defeated.

  Jacob had that effect on people.

  He was good at lifting them up and bringing them crashing down. It was a natural talent, and it was part of the reason he was both irresistible and highly frustrating.

  “Well,” Addy said and left the word hanging in the air.

  I hoovered my crêpes, then dabbed at my lips and made to rise. Addy’s hand clamped down on my arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. “You know we have a ladies’ get-together right after this. It’s the pre-engagement-party party.”

  “I—uh, OK? Are you kidding?”

  “Of course not. Most of the women here don’t know each other well enough yet. It’s super important to me that we hang out.” Addy squeezed my arm gently. “You’ll be there, right?”

  “What time?” I asked.

  Addy pursed her lips. “You did see the itinerary for the week in your room, right? I made sure that every room had one. I was very explicit about that with the hotel staff. Do I need to talk to someone about this?”

  “No! No, the itinerary.” I racked my brain.

  I vaguely recalled a cream folder, embossed in gold print with Charlie and Addy’s names. That was probably it. I wasn’t that much of a routine girl, so I’d passed on rifling through all the contents of that one.

  “Yeah, it’s in my room.”

  “OK, then you should know what time it is,” Addy said.

  “Sure. Right. I’m going to go up to the room and freshen up.” And memorize an itinerary, apparently. “I’ll talk to you later?”

  “That’s not a question. That’s a necessity.” Addy kissed me on the cheek.

  “Thanks for breakfast.” It didn’t help that Addy and Charlie were funding the entire endeavor themselves. Skipping out on pre-planned events would be a major no-no. Charlie was a billionaire, but that didn’t matter. It was still…a handout.

  I rose from the table, waved the bridesmaids—one or two actually returned it—and walked for the exit. Thank god that was over.

  I’d have a few minutes to recoup and figure out how I’d make it through the rest of this wedding extravaganza without either wailing on Jacob or falling into bed with him. I finally reached the hall and the elevator. The glossed-up doors opened, and I stepped inside.

  “Hold it.” Jacob strode in after me, tucking hands into his pockets.

  My stomach bobbed, weaved, and then sank. I hit the button for the fifth floor silently then backed into the corner of the elevator without further comment.

  If I was going to make it through the ride up without throwing myself at him, this was how I’d do it.

  “Chloe,” he said.

  So much for that idea.

  Twelve

  Jacob

  “Chloe,” I repeated. “We’re going to have to talk about it at some point.”

  “Are we?” she asked. “We could avoid the whole topic and pretend it never happened.”

  “That’s what you want?” It couldn’t be. I’d pictured fucking her at least five times in the last two minutes. “To avoid this.”

  “I don’t see that we have another choice, Jacob. We’re not going to make anything of this.”

  “Make anything? Shit, like what? A relationship?”

  Chloe didn’t answer. She stared at the elevator doors. She was one of the few women I’d seen who had an attractive side profile. Fuck, was it weird that I noticed that about her? A chin that wasn’t too strong, the gentle slope of her nose, the pout of her lips.

  “Chloe.”

  “No, not a relationship. I told you not a relationship,” she snapped, tossing her head. A few strands fell free from that messy bun. Strands that begged to be toyed with. “God, you are so fucking full of yourself. That’s the immediate conclusion you jump to? That I’m so pathetic I’d want to fall into a relationship with you?”

  “You’re the one jumping to conclusions.”

  “No, it’s there. On your face. You’re already scared that I’m going to ask you for more than you’re willing to give. Well, let me save you the frustration here—I am not interested in you like that.” Chloe’s words were spears, but I didn’t blame her for her anger.

  The elevator doors opened, and she stalked down the hall toward her room. She swiped her key card and entered. I reached the door before she could slam it and pressed my palm flat against the wood. “Hold up,” I said.

  “Why should I?” she asked and dumped her handbag on her king-sized bed. Our two rooms were basically carbon copies, with a few decorative changes here or there. Chloe marched to the table and lifted a manila folder from it. She flicked it open and rifled through the pages.

  “Chloe, chill.” I shut the door. “I’m talking to you for a good reason. For your brother.”

  She raised her chin. “Of course. For my brother.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “It’s not a problem. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I needed to hear. God forbid I should think you cared about me.”

  “I do care about you. I’ve made that pretty clear. But there’s more to it than that.”

  “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she replied. “I’ve got a bridesmaids get-together to attend. Can’t fucking wait to sit through drinks with women who have nothing to talk about but their trust funds and their rich husbands and how successful their lives are.”

  “You should try pink gin.”

  “Huh?”

  “Pink gin. It goes well with bitters. And man, I’ve never seen you this bitter,” I said.

  “You’ve barely seen me since the day you fucked me and left town.”

  “Jesus. OK. Maybe I deserved that.”

  “And maybe I’m an idiot,” she said, clapping the folder closed. Those sparkling green eyes were two emeralds shimmering against white sand. “Actually, there’s no maybe in there. I am an idiot for ever having gotten involved with you again. What was I expecting? I’m the pathetic girl who has a crush on her brother’s best friend, and you’re …you.”

  “I’d love to know what that means. Will my ego be able to take it?”

  “Whatever. It’s—let’s avoid each other from now on. OK? No more…talking, sex, anything else. Last night was a mistake.”

  “Suits me.” I shrugged and walked for the door, hating this. It didn’t suit me. I wanted her. It would never work out. “I meant everything I said.”

  “Huh?” Chloe had her fists on her hips.

  “To you. All the things I’ve said, I’ve meant them.”

  “And today at breakfast? The commitment, the dating?”

  So, that was what had gotten to her. She was angry that I couldn’t be more than a fuck she hated? “How would that work, Chloe? How would we ever be together?”

  “I’m not saying we should be together. I don’t want that.”

  “But you’re pissed at me for saying I didn’t want to date anyone.”

  “No.”

  “Fuck, we’re talking in circles here,” I said. “It’s better if I leave.”

  “Me too.” Chloe followed me out of her room. “Apparently, I’m about two minutes away from having drinks with women who can’t stand me.”

  It was times like these that frustrated the shit out of me. Once again, I wanted to comfort her, tell her things would be a
ll right. Fuck it, save her from going to this meet-up with the other ladies.

  Chloe exhaled. “It will be fine. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure that they’re not as bad as I’m making them out to be.”

  “Sure.”

  Her gaze wandered as she spoke. “So, yeah, see you at the next scheduled event. I’m going to—what the fuck?”

  “You’re going to what the fuck?”

  “No, Jacob. I mean, what the fuck. Your room door is open. Like wide open.”

  I spun on my heel, brow creasing.

  She was right. The door to my room was wide open, and uneven light filtered from within. I’d left my curtains closed this morning. Hadn’t had the chance to do anything but roll out of bed and get ready, the late-night sex dominating my mind.

  “The fuck?” I marched down the hall, Chloe tottering along behind me.

  My room had been trashed.

  Papers spread across the floor, one of the curtains ripped right off the railing, glasses from atop the mini-fridge shattered and spread across the carpeting. The sheets had been ripped, mattress overturned. Feathers from the pillows drifted in the breeze from the open window.

  I entered, searching for any sign of the intruder, but they were long gone by now. Nothing had been left untouched.

  “Why? How?” Chloe asked behind me.

  I had some idea, but I couldn’t tell her. I shook my head instead.

  “I’m calling the cops. And management.”

  “Not the cops. That isn’t necessary.” Fuck knew how Pritchard would react to the cops. Would he attack someone next?

  “What? Jacob, don’t be ridiculous. The minute the hotel finds out about this, they’re going to call the cops anyway. Just… I’m calling them.” And then she crunched over broken glass and out of the room, tugging at the straps of her handbag.

  What had they been looking for?

  There wasn’t a shred of doubt in my mind that this was connected to Pritchard Young. Not a fucking shred. But why? Why would he have sent goons in here to mess my shit up? What was the purpose of it, unless it was to show me that they could reach me anywhere?

  I’d already known that.

  What had they stolen?

  Everything was ruined, but nothing had been taken on first glance. Even my clothes were in the armoire, one of the doors hanging skewed on its hinges to reveal them on their hangers.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Then what?”

  The safe. It was open. And empty.

  There had been only two things in that safe. Two velvet boxes containing the rings for Charlie and Addy’s wedding.

  “Shit!” I charged toward the safe.

  “OK,” Chloe said. “Management is on their way up and the police have been called as well. And—what’s wrong?”

  “They took the rings.” I faced her. “They took Charlie and Addison’s wedding bands.”

  * * *

  The cops had come and gone and hadn’t been able to help us. Management had relocated me to another room, on the floor one lower than this one, which was likely a good idea given how the proximity to Chloe had fucked up my plans good.

  But now that this had happened, and right next door to her room…

  What if she’s next?

  I’d already settled my shit into the new room they’d given me. It was as big as the last but styled in teal blue and gold. Not that I gave a shit about the peripherals.

  My cell phone was silent. I unlocked the screen and scrolled through to my messages. I’d texted Smith a half an hour ago, and still nothing. He was MIA, and that didn’t bode well for the supposed “operation.”

  Fuck, the last time I’d heard from him, it had been vague at best. Were they struggling to track Pritchard down? To come up with something that would work?

  Chloe knocked on the room’s open door and entered, grasping her handbag to her side. Even now, I was struck by how beautiful she was. And strong. She’d taken none of the hotel manager’s shit and had delivered a significant amount of it herself. “Well, they’re definitely missing.” She’d stuck by my side since the break-in. “The rings. The cops say there’s no sign of them in there.”

  I gripped my forehead. “Fuck. This is bad. Those rings were engraved, they were special. Charlie gave them to me with the instructions to guard them with my life.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Chloe said.

  But it was. She had no idea.

  “This kind of thing happens. I mean, they probably saw you with the rings, followed you, and then decided to break in for them.”

  And crack a safe. For two rings. “It doesn’t matter how or why it happened, just that they’re gone. I have to find them. Or buy new ones.”

  “There’s no surveillance?” Chloe asked. “Surely, the hotel has some camera footage of who might have done this. Someone entering the building?”

  “I asked. They were cagey about it but did tell me that, yeah, no, there’s nothing on this floor.” I gritted my teeth. It was a lame excuse, and it aroused my suspicions. How deeply had Pritchard embedded himself here? How close was he to the men who worked in this hotel?

  “Shit.” Chloe tugged at her messy bun. “Shit. Then you’ll have to tell Charlie what happened. He’ll understand.”

  “Fuck that. He doesn’t need the extra stress.” And neither did I.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  My phone buzzed, and I unlocked the screen, read the message.

  Stand by. We will be in touch shortly. S.

  That was it. No comfort, fuck, not that I needed it, but absolutely no indication as to what was going on out there. Or how Pritchard had gotten into my room without the FBI knowing.

  “Jacob?” Chloe stepped up.

  I shut off my phone and slipped it into my pocket, studying her face. The anger from earlier was gone. She held nothing but concern, and it would’ve been endearing if it wasn’t plain interference. The longer she hung out with me, the closer she got to danger.

  “I’m going to replace the rings,” I said. “There’s got to be a jeweler around here who will help me.”

  “On such short notice? What about the engravings?”

  “Money talks.” I shrugged and walked for the door.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said.

  “What about your bridesmaids’ event?”

  “That ship has definitely sailed. And are you kidding? This is the perfect excuse to skip out on that.”

  I paused, my gaze lingering on her lips, her hips, her thighs. She cleared her throat.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s roll.”

  Thirteen

  Chloe

  “Let’s roll?” I kept pace with him as we entered a small jeweler’s off a quaint paved side-street.

  “You’re not going to get over that, are you?” Jacob asked, deadpan.

  “It’s …you sounded like a Power Ranger. Or like some old-timey journalist.” I faked tugging on a fedora, and put on a thick accent. “Let’s roll, baby doll. We’re about to blow this whole case wide open.”

  “I’m glad you have a sense of humor, given the situation.” But Jacob’s voice warbled with barely-contained laughter. “I doubt that you’ll be appreciated for it in here, though.”

  Chloe stopped past the gilt gate that separated the outside of the jeweler’s from the inside. A chandelier cast sparkling light over rich maroon carpeting. Walnut counters, topped and sided with glass, stretched around the edges of the room, and a central island of glass displayed a diamond tiara and a collection of necklaces that was fit for the literal queen.

  “Uh, Jacob?”

  “Yeah?” He looked at me, and my insides turned to mush and nerves all over again.

  “Isn’t this a little out of the budget range?”

  “I don’t mean to brag here or anything, but do you know who I am?” He chuckled.

  A throat cleared from behind the counter. “May I help you?” The shop assistant sported a mustache and a neat suit, matching
it with a French accent.

  “Yeah,” Jacob said, turning on the King charm. “We’re in trouble, and we figured you might be the best person to help us.”

  “Seriously?” I murmured.

  “Watch and learn, gorgeous,” Jacob replied.

  It was so natural, coming from him. We’d fought, but it hadn’t changed anything. I wanted him, he still wanted me, and the whole affair was impossible.

  “I’m afraid I will need more specifics than that,” the assistant said.

  Jacob swaggered forward. I followed, genuinely intrigued to see him in action. “My name is Jacob King,” he said. “You might have heard of me.”

  “I haven’t,” the man replied.

  “What’s your name?” I chipped in, trying to soften the ego mismatch between them. The place smelled lightly of lavender perfume. “I’m Chloe.”

  “Pierre,” he replied. “This is an exclusive establishment, madame. If you are not going to purchase anything, I will have to ask you to leave.” He wasn’t impressed by my sundress.

  “We are going to purchase,” Jacob said, smiling. “We need wedding rings. Engraved wedding rings. Today.”

  Pierre’s demeanor altered immediately. A simpering smile spread across his thin lips, and he spread his arms wide. “But of course. Of course. Paris, as you well know, is the city of love.”

  “Then it’s the perfect place to get married,” Jacob said. “Who would have thought?”

  “Does your fiancée have any preferences for the material of the ring?” Pierre nodded to me.

  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.” I put up my hands and shook them in front of the guy’s face. “No.”

  “One more no, and I’ll believe you’re uncomfortable.” Jacob looped his arm around my waist and tugged me close. He nuzzled my cheek with the tip of his nose and planted a soft kiss there. “She means no, she doesn’t have a preference. But I do.”

  “Yes, monsieur?”

  “White gold,” he said.

  “Ah, give me one moment. I think I may have something that would suit you in the back.” Pierre bowed himself out, and slipped into a back room through a polished wooden door.