Christina Lauren - Beautiful Beginning

She gave me her trademark gloating smile. “I believe I said ‘run.’ Run to Vegas. As in flee .”

“Right.”

“You know, we’re not that far from the airport,” she reminded me, motioning out the window to where we could still see planes landing and taking off. “It’s not too late to escape.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, because as much as I suspected we were careening headlong into disaster, I didn’t actually want to leave. San Diego had always been special to us: it was where I stopped being an idiot and finally let myself love her. It was where Chloe finally let me. And Jesus, had it really been over two years? How was that even possible? It felt like only yesterday I was covertly ogling Miss Mills’ ass as we checked into the W. Later, she’d called me by my first name, for the very first time.

We’d been back together one other time, of course, to select the location for this weekend. But that had been such a whirlwind trip, and this one carried a far greater weight. We were here for our wedding. Despite the way she’d crashed the bachelor party, the fact that we’d bought a Manhattan apartment together, or the ring on Chloe’s finger, it was this strange moment of nerves that made it finally sink in. We were getting married. When I left here again, Chloe would be my wife .

Holy shit.

I reached up, ran a shaking hand across my clammy forehead.

“You’re being awfully quiet over there. Can I take your contemplative silence to mean you’re actually considering fleeing?” Chloe asked.

I shook my head. “No way,” I said, tightening my grip on her hand. “We’re here. And there isn’t a chance in hell I’d miss seeing you walk down that aisle. I’ve fought way too fucking hard for you.”

“Knock it off, Bennett. You’re a lot easier to deal with when you’re being a dick.”

“And I put up with way too much of your shit,” I added, grinning when I felt her fist connect with my shoulder. “But I do feel I should warn you one more time. Some members of my family are a bit . . .”

“Nuts? As in, building a vitamin-manufacturing facility in their garage? As in, paying tens of thousands of dollars for advertising in the AARP magazine?”

I blinked over to her. “ What? Who did that?”

“Your cousin Bull,” she answered, shrugging. “Henry told me some stories on the phone the other day. Apparently it’s his new venture. He’s going to make a pitch this week for some financial backing from Will and Max.”

“Why am I even surprised?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Families are supposed to be a handful, Bennett. Otherwise you’d never leave them. And mine isn’t quite all there, either. You know my aunts are . . . let’s just say they’re really going to enjoy the Ryan family gene pool. I hope you packed your running shoes.”

“Well—” I began, but stopped as she crossed her legs in front of her. “Chloe?”

She picked some nonexistent lint off her nonexistent stockings. “Hmm?”

“What in the fuck are you wearing ?”

“You like?” she said, lifting her foot and moving it from side to side. Her shoes looked positively dangerous. Spiked heel, deep blue patent leather.

“Were you wearing those when we left the hotel?”

“I was. You were on the phone with your brother.”

I wasn’t one to catalog everything Chloe wore, but the familiar stirring in my pants told me I’d most definitely seen these shoes before—over my shoulders, if I wasn’t mistaken. “Where have I seen those?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She was a rotten liar. “At home?”

At home, in our bedroom.

The dirty little box we kept under our bed. The things we did when that box was out.

I remembered the night she wore them, almost two months ago. We hadn’t seen each other in weeks and I couldn’t get close enough, touch her enough, fuck her hard enough. She’d pulled out those shoes along with something new she wanted to try: a bottle of self-warming wax. I could still remember the heat as she’d dribbled it along my skin; the way goose bumps began at that warm puddle of wax and radiated out, spreading along my body. She teased me for so long I actually promised her I’d kneel and hand-feed her breakfast the next day. I came so hard I almost blacked out that night.

“You’re doing this to fuck with me, aren’t you?” I asked. “This is about the let’s-wait-to-have-sex-until-after-the-wedding thing, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

We found a parking spot about a block away from Barbarella in La Jolla and I stepped out, walking around to open Chloe’s door. I took her hand and watched as she climbed out of the car—tan legs that went on forever, shoes you could easily impale yourself on—and shook my head at her the entire time.

“You’re a demon,” I said. “I feel like a bride guarding my virginity before the wedding.”

“Well, then feel free to give it up, Ryan,” she said, pushing up onto her toes to kiss me.

I groaned but somehow managed to pull away, both of us looking in the direction of the restaurant. “Here we go . . . ”

With the patio area open and visible from the street, we could hear our fathers talking before we’d even made it in the door.

“You need to make sure they sit together,” Chloe’s dad was saying.

“Nonsense, Frederick, they’ll be fine.” My father, always the diplomat. “Susan put a lot of thought into the seating arrangement and she knows what she’s doing. I’m sure your sisters are wonderful ladies. Let’s spread them around a little, give the others a chance to get to know them.”

“‘Spread them around’? I don’t think you understand, Elliott. My sisters are crazy . They’re man-hungry and newly single. They will hunt down every available male within a six-mile radius if you give them the chance.”

I stopped Chloe at the threshold, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looking into her brown eyes. “You ready for this?” I asked.

She stood up on her toes and pressed her warm lips to mine. “Absolutely not,” she said against my mouth.

I took her hand and we stepped inside just in time to see my father laugh. “Don’t you think you might be exaggerating a little?”

Frederick sighed. “I wish I were. I—”

“It’s about time,” Henry said, cutting in front of them to walk toward me. Both fathers looked in our direction as Henry continued, “I was worried you two wouldn’t show up and I’d have to drag you naked from your hotel room.”

“That’s a horrifying image,” I said, hugging my brother. “And for the record, I’m having you banned from our floor.”

“Bennett,” my father said, hugging me next. “Frederick and I were just discussing the seating arrangements.”

“And what a disaster it will be if we split up Judith and Mary,” Frederick added, directing his words toward Chloe.

Chloe hugged my dad and then moved on to hers. “This isn’t going to win me any points with Susan,” she told my father, “but I have to agree with my dad here. Keep them together; we don’t want them taking over more real estate than necessary. There will be fewer casualties that way.”

With that settled, I pulled my dad to the side to give Chloe a moment alone with Frederick.

My mother had rented out the entire beachside restaurant, and I had to admit it was perfect. Tucked away in a quaint little neighborhood, meticulously maintained boxwoods lined the walk and flowering vines and greenery clung to every available surface. Now that the sun was starting to set, the huge outdoor seating area twinkled with strings of tiny lights. The tables were beginning to fill, and I realized I couldn’t identify half the people who were smiling in our direction.