Page 95 of A Lot Like Love
“And you think a quickie Vegas wedding’s going to prove that to her?”
Ryder shrugged. “It’s a damn good start, and if she has too much time to think about it she might run.”
Chase laughed. “I hope for your sake you can pull it off.”
“Me too.” Ryder charged his drink and bought a bottle of water, taking the cap off and guzzling it. He still had a bit of a hangover from the champagne, and he hadn’t exactly had a lot of sleep. Resting and playing, sure, but not much sleep. “Keep your phones on and don’t let me down. Got it?”
Chase grinned and Nate just shook his head. Trust his oldest brother to expect him to screw it up.
“I’ll meet you guys in the lobby in a few hours. And if you see Chloe, don’t say a word.”
Ryder disappeared, checking his wallet to make sure his Amex card was in his wallet. If memory served him correct there was a Tiffany store accessible through the hotel, and he wanted to make sure he had time to find the perfect ring. And if they didn’t have a big enough rock in the store, he wanted them to have time to fly one in ASAP for him.
He was pulling out all the stops for Chloe—he didn’t care how much it cost or what he had to do. There was no way she was walking away from him, not if he had a say in the matter.
* * *
Chloe stepped out of the elevator and glanced around the lobby, heading for the door. She’d half expected to see the boys at the bar or in the lobby, but she didn’t see anyone she recognized. After trying Nate and Chase’s rooms a couple of times, she was starting to feel like they’d all abandoned her.
“Ms. Rivers!” Chloe stopped and looked over her shoulder, hearing someone call her name. “Ms. Rivers!”
The concierge was running toward her, waving her hand to get her attention. Chloe frowned. “Is something wrong?” Why else would the concierge be chasing her through the lobby? The last time that had happened to her was when she was fifteen. Her dad had put them up in some extravagant hotel, then he’d promptly lost his money and they’d had to skip out on paying. Memories like that made her want to leave Vegas and never return.
“I have a message for you,” the woman said, her smile genuine as she held out a card. “Mr. King left it at reception. Three large boxes arrived for you just now, too, Ms. Rivers. Would you like me to have them sent straight up to your room?”
Chloe took the card and opened it. She wasn’t sure which King had left it for her, but a quick scan to the bottom showed Ryder’s name scrawled across it. She closed it and decided to read it in private.
“Yes, send them up,” she instructed. “And would you mind ordering me a chardonnay too.” Whatever the hell was going on, she needed a drink.
Chloe cancelled her shopping plans and headed back up, embarrassed at the large boxes being ferried up with her. She craned her neck to read the words on the side and almost choked.Vera Wang?Why the hell were three boxes from Vera Wang being delivered to her?
“Can I just cross-check that these are definitely for me?” she asked.
The man smiled and pulled out a docket. “Chloe Rivers care of Ryder King, staying in the Bellagio Suite. That sound like you?”
She nodded, leaning back against the wall and staring up at the changing numbers as they ascended. The card from Ryder was burning a hole in her pocket.
When they arrived at her floor she stepped out, opened the door for the parcels, and then tipped the bellboy. She eyed the boxes like they were full of bombs and sat down on the sofa, slowly opening the card again. It was the first time she’d seen Ryder’s handwriting and it was more scrawly than she’d expected.
Chloe, meet me downstairs at 7 p.m. I’ll be in the lobby waiting. I’ve sent up three dresses hoping that one will be right, and I need you to trust me. Wear your favorite one and I’ll see you soon. Ryder.
A knock at the door made her jump. “Room service!”
Chloe crossed the room, tipped the waiter, and took her wine. Thank god she’d ordered it. She took a long, slow sip and eyed the boxes in the center of the living area. She set down her drink and slid a nail under the seal of the first one, sucking back a breath when she saw the dress wrapped so carefully in tissue paper. It was the softest dove gray color, and as she lifted it out she could see that it was strapless, the bust shaped and the soft fabric bolstered by structured stitching and a nipped-in waist.
Chloe draped it over the chair beside her and opened the second one, eyes almost popping out of her head as she spied the off-white layers of tulle. The bust was a delicate symphony of tiny beads that gently caught the light, the waist defined by a subtle strip of satin, before the tulle took over and made a princess skirt.
Tears pricked her eyes as she held it up. Was Ryder serious? Did he actually expect her to wear one of these dresses without knowing what the hell he had planned? Was this some kind of test?
She reluctantly put down the second dress and opened the final box, parting the tissue to inspect the dress. It was satin, the softest champagne color, and she imagined it would hug all her curves like a second skin, fluting out like a mermaid’s tail at the back.
Chloe put it carefully back in the box and rose, taking her glass and going to stand beside the window. She looked out over Vegas and sipped her wine, her thoughts full of dresses that didn’t make sense to her. All she wanted was to rewind twenty-four hours, hell, even a few hours, and just stay there forever. But of all the good things that had happened to her in her life, none had lasted. Not one. Each great moment had been replaced with one ten times worse than the last.
She picked up her phone and dialed Ryder. It rang, then went to voice mail, so she hung up, turning at the same time to survey the open boxes behind her. Here she was, surrounded by exquisite dresses that looked suspiciously like wedding gowns, all alone, and wondering what the hell was going on. All she knew for sure was that Ryder was expecting her to take a serious leap of faith, and as romantic as whatever he had planned for her might be, trusting anyone like that didn’t come naturally to her.
Her phone vibrated in her hand and she glanced at the screen, swiping across to open it. “Shelly?”
“Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”
