Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
T he plane landed with a gentle bump, and Ava forced herself to unclench her fingers from the armrests. She wasn’t a nervous flyer, exactly—more like an unpracticed one. Between medical school, residency, and an endless rotation of double shifts at Elizabethtown General, vacations had never been a priority. But when Rachel had all but begged her to come on this bridesmaids' weekend in Vegas, Ava hadn’t been able to say no.
Rachel needed the break. Desperately. Ever since announcing her engagement to Kyle, her high school sweetheart, Rachel had been a wreck—not because of him, but because of the circus surrounding the wedding.
Rachel’s divorced parents loathed each other with a fiery passion, dragging their new families into the battleground of every disagreement. Feuds were practically a sport in Kentucky, and the Morgans were Olympic-level champions. Meanwhile, Kyle’s family wasn’t much better, treating Rachel like an interloper, a disruption to their perfect son’s future. Every wedding decision turned into a fight, and more than once, Ava had found Rachel in the break room at the hospital in tears.
Ava couldn’t help but wonder if Rachel would even make it to the altar—and if the marriage could survive the absolute chaos surrounding it.
But for now, they were here, away from all that. Vegas was a fresh start. A temporary escape.
Beside her, Rachel exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for months, her tension easing the moment the plane touched solid ground. She reached over, squeezing Ava’s hand. “Thanks for coming with me. I know you had to pull extra shifts to make it happen.”
Ava grimaced, the reminder of Dr. Cipponelli’s disapproving glare still fresh. He’d tolerated her request for time off, but his parting words had been a warning—that the coveted full-time ED position wasn’t guaranteed, that she needed to prove she was fully committed.
Never mind that Joe Salvini, her fellow resident, had just returned from a weeklong Caribbean getaway without a peep from administration. Double standards were alive and well at Elizabethtown General.
But Rachel didn’t need to hear about that. Heck, she worked with Ava, so she was well aware of the situation. Ava forced a shrug, turning to the small airplane window, where the desert stretched endlessly toward the mountains. “It’s worth it to spend time with you before the wedding madness kicks into high gear. What’s the plan? Poolside naps? A show? Gambling?”
Rachel tapped at her phone; her expression guarded. “I thought we could play it by ear.”
Ava raised an eyebrow, suspicion flaring. “Rachel Morgan, you’ve never ‘played it by ear’ in your life.” She ticked off her points on her fingers. “You planned your school outfits on Sunday nights, mapped out your career path at fourteen, and had your future kids’ names picked before you even dated Kyle. Don’t tell me you suddenly want to wing it.”
Rachel gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m tired of planning everything. Look where it’s gotten me—migraines, adult acne from all the fried food I’m stuffing in my face, and I’m pretty sure I have an ulcer from this damned wedding.”
Ava’s teasing faded, concern creeping in. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Rachel’s shoulders slumped. “About Kyle? Never.” Her voice softened, but the exhaustion in her eyes didn’t fade. “About the wedding? Every day. If it wouldn’t kill my MeeMaw for us to live together without getting married, I wouldn’t even bother with the whole thing.”
Her laugh was hollow, and Ava’s chest ached for her. MeeMaw’s opinion carried weight—had always carried weight. Rachel had spent her entire life trying to keep that woman proud of her.
Ava squeezed her friend’s hand as the plane taxied to the gate. “You’ll get through this. Then all you have to do is survive marriage.”
Rachel gave a watery chuckle, swiping at her eyes. “Piece of cake.”
By the time they stepped into the airport terminal, the chaos of Vegas slammed into Ava like a neon-lit freight train. The scent of fast food and overpriced perfume mingled in the air. Slot machines flashed and beeped, their electronic jingles fighting to be heard over the steady hum of travelers. It was overstimulating, dizzying.
Rachel slowed her pace, glancing around as if looking for someone.
“Bathroom break?” Ava guessed, adjusting the strap of her bag.
Rachel shook her head. “I’m just looking for something.”
Ava frowned but didn’t press. “Fine. Hold my stuff while I go.”
She handed Rachel her bag and joined the line for the women’s restroom, grateful that it moved quickly. But when she returned, Rachel was gone.
Ava’s stomach clenched. Rachel wasn’t the type to just wander off. Not unless something was wrong.
Her pulse quickened as her gaze swept the crowd, scanning for that familiar head of dark curls. And then?—
Her heart stopped.
Reed Campbell.
Standing near a row of seat, relaxed and confident in dark jeans and a fitted Henley that clung to broad shoulders, his posture so effortlessly him. The kind of man who looked like he belonged anywhere he went. He hadn’t spotted her yet, too busy talking to…
Kyle.
Rachel stood between them, her fingers twisted in Kyle’s shirt, her face pale.
Ava’s feet froze.
What the hell was going on?
And then Reed turned, as if sensing her, and the moment their eyes met, something flickered in his expression—something sharp, something wicked. His grin spread slowly, lazy and amused, and damn him, genuine.
“Ava,” he called over the noise, his voice deep and smooth. “Great to see you.”
Ava’s pulse did something stupid, tripping over itself as if her body hadn’t gotten the memo that she was mad at him. That she should be mad at him. But instead, all she could focus on was the way his gaze lingered, sweeping over her, heat sparking beneath the surface.
A slow curl of awareness unspooled in her stomach.
Vegas, it seemed, had just gotten a lot more complicated.
R eed had been excited when Kyle asked him to be his best man. Noah showed no signs of settling down anytime soon, and Reed’s older brother was too busy saving the world halfway across the globe to even think about marriage. So, this might be his only shot at throwing a bachelor party.
At first, it had been perfect—a weekend of camping, rock climbing, beer by the fire, swapping stories under the stars. No drama. No family feuds. Just them, the way it had always been.
Then Kyle mentioned Vegas.
Reed had never had much interest in the city. Too glitzy, too loud, too artificial. He preferred the wild, where the only lights came from the stars and the only sound was the wind through the trees. But the idea had still intrigued him. He could get the same adrenaline rush at the Blackjack table that he got climbing a sheer rock face. The same thrill from the roll of dice as he did from tackling a near-impossible trail. And sure, there’d be plenty of distractions—pretty women, strong drinks, a weekend of not thinking too hard.
That last part was key. Because lately, there was one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Ava Spencer.
She’d been a distraction from the moment she set foot in the ED. At first, he’d chalked it up to curiosity—Noah’s little sister, all grown up, with sharp wit and even sharper ambition. But the more he saw of her, the worse it got. The way she moved, graceful and efficient, her blonde hair always slipping from whatever professional twist she forced it into. The way she argued with him, her eyes flashing, her lips curling just slightly at the edges, as if daring him to push harder.
The last thing Noah would ever approve of was his best friend messing with his little sister—especially him, with his less-than-stellar track record when it came to relationships. And Ava? She wouldn’t give him the time of day. She was too focused on her career, on proving herself. She wanted stability. Predictability. And he was anything but that.
Unfortunately, his dick hadn’t gotten the message.
So, yeah. Vegas seemed like a damn good idea.
Now, as he lounged on a metal bench at Harry Reid International Airport, his ass going numb, he watched Kyle pace in front of him like an expectant father. Reed took another sip of his chocolate shake, savoring the rich flavor, and took a lazy bite of his burger.
“Are we gonna spend the weekend at the airport?” he drawled. “Not that it’s a bad place. The food’s good, there’s gambling. But this isn’t exactly the weekend you promised me.”
Kyle barely spared him a glance. “You’re the best man. You’re supposed to be the one who planned this whole shindig.”
Reed crumpled his empty burger wrapper and tossed it into the trash. “Yeah, well, the thing about this weekend is that I didn’t really have a choice, did I? I had a plan. You changed it. I’m just along for the ride. So why don’t you tell me why we’re really here?”
Kyle’s eyes flicked toward the terminal entrance, his lips curving into a slow grin. Then, without a word, he took off, shoving through the crowd toward someone.
Reed followed his line of sight, and everything clicked.
Rachel.
Kyle lifted her effortlessly, spinning her around, her delighted laughter ringing out above the dull hum of travelers.
Reed sighed, grabbed their bags, and followed at a more leisurely pace. He wasn’t in a hurry to intrude on their reunion.
Rachel caught sight of him and wiggled out of Kyle’s hold long enough to throw her arms around Reed. “I’m so glad you could come too.”
He shot Kyle a dry look over her shoulder. “Not sure I had much of a choice.”
Rachel laughed, but there was something a little off—a nervous energy just beneath the surface. “Of course you did. But we wouldn’t want to share this weekend with anyone else.” She hesitated, then added, “Well, except for one more person.”
And just like that, the air changed.
Reed felt it before he even turned around. A shift, a weight, like something inevitable, was pulling him toward it.
Then he saw her.
Ava Spencer walked toward them, the crowd parting around her like she didn’t belong in the chaos. She wasn’t in scrubs, wasn’t haggard from an endless shift. No exhaustion, no stress lines. Just Ava, in soft jeans that hugged her curves in a way he really shouldn’t be noticing, a pale pink top that skimmed her shoulders, and lips—those full, damn distracting lips—painted with just the slightest hint of gloss.
His pulse did something stupid.
Her steps faltered when she saw him, just for a fraction of a second, before she recovered, her expression smoothing into something neutral. Controlled. But not before he caught that flash of surprise, of something else flickering in those blue eyes.
Reed smirked. “Ava! Great to see you.”
Her smile was polite. Distant. “Reed. I didn’t expect to see you this weekend.”
Yeah. No kidding.
She turned to hug Kyle, then shot Rachel a pointed look.
Rachel latched onto Kyle’s arm, looking a little too innocent. “Well, now that we’re all here, I guess you’re wondering why.”
Ava crossed her arms. “That’s an understatement.”
Rachel bit her lip, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Kyle and I… we decided to get married here in Vegas!”
Silence.
Reed’s first thought was, Fucking thank you, I don’t have to wear that damn tux .
His second was that he should probably not say that out loud.
Instead, he went with, “As long as you’re happy, then I’ll support your decision.” He held out a hand for Kyle to shake, then turned to Ava?—
Who was definitely not on board.
Her brows were pulled together, her lower lip caught between her teeth in that way that always distracted the hell out of him.
“Are you sure this is the right decision?” she asked Rachel. “Your family is going to be super pissed and might make your life miserable.”
Rachel let out a sharp breath. “They already do. Aunt Gerty refuses to sit near Aunt Sarah. Uncle Sam and Cousin Michael nearly got into a fistfight over the seating chart. I just want to actually enjoy my wedding. Is that too much to ask?”
Ava still looked unconvinced, but before she could open her mouth, Reed shifted closer, draping an arm over her shoulders. He felt the way she tensed—just for a second—before she flicked him an unreadable look.
His palm brushed her bare shoulder, and fuck, her skin was soft. Warm.
“It’s Rachel’s wedding,” he said smoothly, his voice a little lower than necessary. “She should get to do whatever she wants.”
Ava tilted her head up at him, her expression screaming, Are you serious right now?
But then something else flickered through her gaze, something questioning, something curious.
Reed smirked.
Ava turned back to Rachel, exhaling. “Of course, we’ll support you. What do you need from us?”
Rachel’s smile was instant. “I’m so glad you asked. You packed a nice dress, right?”
Ava groaned.
Reed grinned. This weekend was about to get very interesting.