Page 71 of Love Under Snowfall

“He’s this way.” Benjamin jerked his thumb over his shoulder, biceps straining against his jacket sleeve. Frankie grumbled then followed closely behind as they made their way down to deal with the chaos the soon-to-be-dead man was causing.

The massive tent, brimming with long white tables, twinkling lights, and plenty of space heaters to chase away the December chill, hummed with activity. Caterers prepared the serving station for dinner and dessert. The wedding planner and her swarm of assistants buzzed around tables, putting the finishing touches on the centerpieces. The bartender glanced around nervously as Zac and some woman stood at the little bar, preparing to take shots of tequila.

“Zackariah Sebastian Hartford the third,” Frankie bellowed, eliciting a physical jolt from everyone nearby. “You put that shot glass down right now or I’ll cram it down your throat.”

The lanky redhead behind the counter breathed a sigh of relief and made himself useful by stocking cans of beer in the small fridge behind him.

“Busted,” Zac chortled, setting down his tequila and wiping the salt off the back of his hand with a cocktail napkin. “Frankie, you look sexy as hell. Can I interest you in a shot?”

“What are you doing?” Her lethal glare oscillated between Zac and the woman standing beside him. Either he’d convinced one of the employees to shirk responsibility and throw back a few, or this was the groomsman’s date.

“Bethany’s my plus one—”

“It’s Bethanne, actually,” the woman tried to correct around Zac’s shoulder.

“And she rode here with me. We’re having a couple drinks to kill time before the ceremony.”

“You should be with Jonathan. Not ‘killing time’ out here.”

“What’s the big deal,Francesca?” He flicked a spiteful glance at Benjamin. “It’s not like groomsmen do anything besides walk a hopefully hot bridesmaid down the aisle. I don’t hold the rings. I don’t give a speech. I didn’t even get to help plan the bachelor party, for Christ’s sake. Not that Jon had one. He didn’t ‘feel up to it’ since you two were too busy fucking in the woods.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Benjamin stepped forward, but Frankie stretched out an arm to block his path. She watched in shocked outrage as Zac clinked glasses with his date and threw back the shot. Thankfully, Bethanne, accurately reading the escalating agitation, had the good sense to set her own shot down and shrug into her coat.

“Maybe I’d better grab a seat. Let you get back to. . .” She trailed off, turned, and scurried away.

“Well, that was rude,” Zac snorted. “You scared my date away.”

The nerve of this guy. Frankie was reaching her boiling point and judging by the vibrations coming off Benjamin, she was in good company. She hadn’t quite realized until this point how bitter Zac was over not being Jonathan’s best man. Ever the casual, roll-with-the-punches-while-wearing-a-smarmy-grin kind of guy, his reaction seemed so out of left field that Frankie almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Still, she softened her expression—or at least made her best attempt. It was her duty to de-escalate thecurrent drama so they could have a stress-free, happy wedding.

“Look. Your feelings are hurt.” She ignored Zac’s scoff and continued, “But Jon is counting on you. Will you please go to his suite and be there for him? Put aside whatever this is and deal with it tomorrow. He’s your best friend.”

He looked pointedly at Benjamin. “It just sucks that I’m not his.”

Frankie watched Zac slink out of the tent, relieved to have avoided the situation becoming a bigger deal than it already was. She turned to the bartender and requested a bottle of J.P. Trodden and a few tumblers.

“Weren’t you just giving Zac the business about drinking before the wedding?” Benjamin’s husky voice prickled the back of her neck. His warmth permeated their shared space. He was so close.

Too close.

“Lucy requested it. Besides, having a drink as a group before the wedding is one thing. Throwing back a few shots with your date when you should be attending to the groom is completely different.”

Accepting the bottle and stack of glassware, Frankie turned to Benjamin. “Thanks for letting me know what was going on.”

“Honestly, I was more worried about what I would do if I didn’t have you as a witness.” He grinned fiendishly and stuffed one hand in his pocket. “Can I help you carry that?”

“Thanks, no.”

She turned to make her way out of the tent. Then turned. “Another thing.”

Benjamin inclined his head. “Anything.”

“What Zac said about us in the woods. I don’t need someone defending my honor.”

Chapter thirty-nine

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