Page 13 of Reckless Encore

They reached the path to their neighboring villa, and Ryan stopped. “Do you want to check to see if your drinking buddy is already at the bar?”

“Do we have to?”

“It’s up to you.” Ryan shrugged. “You know what he’s like.”

She huffed, strode for Mason’s door, and rapped her knuckles against the wood. Seconds later an aggressive, undecipherable yell sounded from inside.

“They’re still in there.” She leaned to the right and peered through the wall of glass. “Mason, open the door.”

A minute of silence followed, then his darkened frame came into view. His stride was forceful as he made his way to the door and flung it wide. The lead singer of Reckless Beat stood before her in nothing but his boxers, hair a mess, face equally disheveled with sleep wrinkles along his cheek, and dry, cracked lips.

“You’re not even dressed.”

“What?” the lead singer snarled.

She laughed through her headache. “Not feeling too good?”

He moved to close the door.

Ryan snickered and shoved his hand against the wood. “Hurry up and get ready. We’re late for this thing with Sean.”

Mason shook his head. “No can do. The fucks I have to give about a team-building exercise are nowhere to be found.”

“And what do you expect us to tell them?” she asked.

“Like I said, I have no fucks to give. I’m sure Sean will understand.”

The door slammed in her face.

“God, he’s a dick.” His douchebaggery only increased when she struggled with a hangover.

“I heard that,” carried from the other side of the door.

“It’s not a secret.” She held out a hand for her husband. “Come on. We better hurry.”

They hustled along the boardwalk, moved even faster once they reached the beach, and made it to the empty bar ten minutes late.

None of their group was in sight.

Not a single soul.

“Shit.” Ryan turned in a circle. “We’ve missed them.”

“They can’t be too far.” She scanned the gardens and the pool, not recognizing any of her friends among the swimmers.

“You’re with the wedding party, right?” The bartender straightened from cleaning a table at the far corner of the outdoor covered area. “It’s over by the gazebo.”

“No. That’s not us.” She smiled and continued trailing her scrutiny around the resort. “We’re looking for a friend.”

“He’s a big guy,” Ryan started. “Broad shoulders. Buzz-cut. Petite wife with red hair.”

“Yes. The bride and groom.” The man nodded and came toward them, swinging a cloth at his side. “Mr. Taiden is over there by the gazebo.”

Leah’s heart dropped to her toes as she followed the man’s gaze across the pool. She squinted, looking past the glistening water, manicured grass, and neatly trimmed gardens, to the gazebo immaculately decorated in flowers and white fabric. The adornments perfectly highlighted Sean standing center stage.

“Do you see that?” The entrance was bordered by a line of eight chairs. Eight—Ryan, Leah, Mitch, Alana, Blake, Gabi, Mason, and Sidney. Eight damn chairs. But all of them were empty. She turned her burning eyes to Ryan. “Nobody else is here.”

The horror etched across her husband’s features spoke volumes.

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