The Wedding Wrecker

14. Emma

14

EMMA

" I t was just a small tumble," I insisted as Lily fussed over my bruised knee and sore ankle. My sister looked perfect as always—long blonde hair falling in soft waves, her skin perfectly smooth and glowing. Meanwhile, I looked like I'd been put through a snowblower and then partially thawed.

"You went airborne," James corrected from where he was arranging pillows on the oversized leather chair. "And did a very impressive cartwheel."

"I did not?—"

"Two full rotations. I counted." He grinned. "Though your form could use work. I'd give the technical execution a six, but the dramatic flair was a solid nine."

“Well,” I said, smiling a little. “Thank you for appreciating my dramatic flair, at least.”

James gave me a sympathetic pat on the head, then walked off toward the lounge bar.

We'd found a cozy corner of the resort's main lobby, where a massive stone fireplace crackled and popped beside intimate seating arrangements. Outside, snow was starting to fall again, making the whole scene feel almost magical. It was so damn cozy I could almost forget my aching everything and the fact that my stubbornness nearly got me killed on a mountain today.

Okay, I probably hadn’t almost died. But my dignity might have.

"Here." James returned and handed me a steaming mug of hot chocolate, complete with tiny marshmallows. "Drink this while I grab more pillows."

"I don't need?—"

He was already gone. I'd finally managed to placate Maggie with a text promising "every scandalous detail later, including why I might have chosen death by ski slope over facing another night alone with the wedding wrecker." But now I had an overly attentive fake boyfriend to deal with.

A fake boyfriend who'd changed into a soft gray sweater that made me want to run my hands over it. Or maybe that was just an excuse for wanting to run my hands over what was under it. Between that and his slightly windblown hair and the way his jeans fit as he walked away... I took a long sip of hot chocolate and tried to focus on my bruises instead of his assets.

"He's sweet," Lily sighed, curling up on the couch. Her engagement ring caught the firelight. I remember being somewhat impressed when I’d seen it. After hearing how filthy rich the Wellington’s were, I expected it to look like a geological artifact—something so large she’d barely be able to straighten her wrist under its weight. Instead, it was a surprisingly modest ring, almost like something an average guy could’ve afforded.

"You don’t think this injury is going to keep you from coming to the activities right?” Lily asked. “I was really looking forward to having you along for it all.”

“It’s seriously not even worthy of being called an injury,” I said. “James is just fussing over nothing. I’m only a little sore and a tiny bit bruised. I promise, I’ll be completely fine by tomorrow morning.”

“Mhm,” Lily said with a knowing grin. “I imagine anybody would recover with the level of pampering your boyfriend is lathering on. Maybe I should hire him to run a Pawsh Pets franchise for me. If he applied those skills to my customer’s pets, his franchise would be a hit the moment it opened.”

“Should we float the idea to him?” Marcus cut in with his perfect smile. He had that polished look the whole Wellington family seemed born with. "I’ve been telling you we need to capitalize while Pawsh Pets is getting so much media coverage. It would be the perfect time to expand and start offering franchises.”

“Easy, Tiger,” Lily said, touching his bicep and giving him a soft smile. “The most important thing to me is that we take care of the pets. Once I’m confident I could expand without compromising that, then… maybe. But I just want to think about us right now, not the business.”

“Of course,” Marcus said, clasping her hand and giving her a dazzling smile.

“What kind of work does he do, anyway?” Lily asked.

“Um,” I said.

James returned with not only more pillows, but also a soft throw blanket that probably belonged somewhere else in the resort. "Lawyer. Currently not practicing, though,” he said, saving me from having to make something up. “Lift up," he ordered me.

His hands were at my waist before I could protest, lifting me slightly to adjust the cushions. The casual display of strength sent a traitorous shiver down my spine. It really wasn't fair that he could just manhandle me like that and make it seem so effortless.

A girl could almost be forgiven if her mind went straight to him using that strength to do things like throw me over one shoulder and carry me off to a broom closet somewhere.

“Why aren’t you practicing?” Lily asked.

James paused with his hands still fussing over my blanket. “There was a personal issue. I needed to take some time away to think about where I wanted to go with my future.”

“Oh,” Lily said, sounding a little sorry she’d asked.

“I heard you mention Pawsh Pets,” he said, smoothly changing the subject as his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary on my thighs through the blanket. “I remember Emma mentioning it, but she didn’t explain what it is, exactly.”

Did not, I thought. But I was happy to explain, if for no other reason than to distract myself from the lingering heat of his touch.

“It’s Lily’s luxury pet spa. The business went viral after she posted a video of a certain pop star's pomsky getting a blueberry facial."

"The precious little expression he had!" Lily gushed as her whole face lit up the way it always did when she talked about animals. "Now we can barely keep up with bookings. Everyone wants the 'celebrity pet treatment' package."

"She's being modest," Marcus said, pulling out a deck of cards. "Pawsh Pets is revolutionizing the industry. The expansion potential is incredible. Imagine one in every major city."

"I don't know about that," Lily laughed, but I caught a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Some businesses get so caught up in expansion that they lose sight of what’s important. I don’t want that for Pawsh Pets.”

"But think bigger, angel. With the right investors?—"

"Oh, look! Cards. Anyone want to play?" I cut in as I lifted a deck of cards the resort had sitting on the table. My sister was brilliant with animals and social media, but she wasn’t exactly ambitious. I could sense the awkward tension in the conversation and wanted to change the topic for her.

"Couples against couples," Lily declared. "Though maybe we should go easy on the injured party."

"I’ll keep her comfortable," James said, his hand settling warm on my shoulder.

The touch sent another shiver through me. Especially when I remembered we'd have to share a bed again tonight. After this morning's... incident. Which we were never, ever speaking of again.

"Your ears are turning pink," James whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

"Shut up and deal."

"What are you two whispering about?" Lily asked with way too much interest.

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"She's remembering this morning?—"

I elbowed him hard enough to make him grunt.

"What happened this morning?" Lily leaned forward eagerly.

"She—"

"Had a very small, super uninteresting incident," I cut in. "Nothing anyone would ever care to know about."

James caught my hand under the blanket and squeezed. "Whatever you say, princess. But maybe tonight we should establish a safe word?—"

I stomped on his foot.

Lily bit back a laugh and shot Marcus a look, but he was distracted by something on his phone.

We played a few hands of various card games while Lily peppered us with questions about "our relationship" between rounds. I tried to focus on the cards and not how James kept absently running his thumb over my knuckles when he thought no one was watching. Or how good he smelled when he leaned close to check my cards. Or how his whole body tensed whenever I gave the slightest hint that I might be in a little bit of pain.

For a man who heartlessly crashed the wedding of my career and ruined two people’s happily-ever-after in Ireland, he was suspiciously good at being a caretaker.

"So what other activities do you have planned?" Lily asked as she shuffled.

"Winter picnic on Thursday," I said. "Though maybe we'll move it indoors given my track record with snow."

"Perfect timing," Marcus said, his professional smile firmly in place. "That's when your new celebrity client's video should be going live, right babe? The one with the high engagement rate?"

I noticed James sit a little straighter. Was he suspicious of Marcus because of his interest in Lily’s business? I could see how it was suspicious, but someone who wasn’t paranoid could also say it was sweet that he was so interested in her career. Some guys couldn’t be bothered to learn a thing about their girlfriend’s company. Marcus already seemed like an expert.

"Oh, right!" Lily brightened. "She has the cutest little cockapoo. I can’t wait to see the video.”

“Right,” Marcus said. “And it’ll be great for?—”

"Well, well." A familiar voice made me cringe. "I’m surprised to see you alive and breathing after that spill on the slopes."

Dick sauntered over, followed by the trio of muscle brothers whose names I couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Richard Wellington, brought up the rear.

"I'm fine," I said quickly.

"Doesn't look fine." Dick perched on the arm of my chair, ignoring how James had gone very still. "I know some massage techniques that might help?—"

"She said she's fine." James' hand slid possessively around my shoulders. The temperature in his voice dropped about twenty degrees.

"Just trying to help." Dick raised his hands in surrender, but his smirk said otherwise.

"Yes, well." Richard's voice could have frozen the fireplace. "We can't have the wedding planner incapacitated. I trust this won't affect your duties?"

"Of course not, sir."

"Excellent. Though perhaps, next time, you could be more of a professional and stick to activities more suited to your... abilities."

James stood. "Emma's perfectly capable?—"

"It's fine," I cut in, touching his arm. The last thing I needed was my fake boyfriend starting a fight with my sister's future father-in-law. Even if the way he'd tensed to defend me was doing funny things to my stomach.

Mr. Wellington cocked an eyebrow in challenge at James, then walked off to order a drink at the bar. One of the muscle brothers gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“Feel better, Emma,” he said in his deep voice. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to look at the clearly jealous fire in James’ eyes as the men walked off.

"Don't mind my father," Marcus said smoothly. "He doesn’t mean anything by what he said. He just likes to be in control, and he gets a little cranky when it comes to surprises or unforeseen events.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “He hired me to make sure you guys have the perfect wedding, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

We played a few more hands, but even though the conversation never touched on anything beyond innocent, idle talk and competitive teasing, I couldn’t help shaking the feeling that something was off about the interaction.

Eventually, Marcus and Lily excused themselves to go see about some alterations to Marcus’ suit for the big day. I offered to take care of it for them, but the two of them seemed to want the excuse to spend a little time together, so I dropped the idea.

Even though I was usually nervous to be alone with James, I’d grown tired from the ambient music playing in the lobby, the sound of the fireplace, and the white serenity outside. I ended up dozing off with my head in James’ lap while he read a book he plucked from the shelves in the nearby library.

When I woke, I saw it was getting dark outside, and James was idly running a hand through my hair.

Rule number one.

But I was too weak to say anything to stop him. I lay there a while, just enjoying the sensation of his fingers against my scalp. Finally, I stirred because I had to itch my leg.

“Ah, sleeping beauty has awoken.”

I yawned. “Sorry. You didn’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to.”

I cleared my throat awkwardly and sat back up. I could feel my hair was a mess, so I tried to tamp it down a little.

“Well?” James eventually asked. “Ready for bed? Or did you nap too long to go to sleep?”

“No,” I said, yawning again. “I’m definitely tired.”

“That settles it,” he said, standing and taking my arm, as if he was worried I might not be able to walk.

I gave him a look. “I’m just a little tender. I can walk, James.”

“Mhm. This is the same woman who confidently told everyone she could handle Thunder Ridge. I’m not sure I can trust you with your own safety, Em.”

Em. I’d told him not to call me that, but I couldn’t find the energy to correct him this time.

We didn’t talk much until we reached the door to our room.

James tapped his keycard to the electric reader above the door handle and paused as he was pushing it open. His eyes met mine, deadly serious. “Now… are you going to behave yourself? Or should I ask the front desk if they have any handcuffs I could use on you?”

For some completely unknown reason, the image of James handcuffing me to the bed did… funny things to my insides. I cleared my throat. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

“We’ll see, won’t we? But maybe we could establish a few ground rules about sleep-grinding. Probably best to make sure we stick to doing it through our clothes for now. Though, I suppose if you’re planning to sleep in that lingerie I saw, it would hardly count as clothing.”

I elbowed him, face burning as I slid past him into the doorway. My small laugh betrayed me. “I hate you. Have I mentioned that?”

“While you’re awake, yes,” he said, closing the door. “But your sleep moans tell a different story.”

I groaned. I might not survive this man, but I wasn’t sure which form my death would take yet. Death by embarrassment? Death by arousal? Or maybe I’d just suffer lethal levels of annoyance and burst into a ball of flames.

Compared to the mortification of waking up with his concerningly large, erect member between my legs again… I might take the flames.