Page 50 of The Worst Best Man
“That’s kinda the way they do things.”
“Your friends are horrible people,” Frankie yelled.
“Pru, baby?” Chip said into the phone. “Yeah, kidnapped. I know, right? Look, I gotta go. Aiden’s calling, and Frankie’s hanging out of the car, and we’ll be there so soon. I’ll explain everything after you’re my wife. I can’t wait to see you in your dress. I love you,” Chip shouted over the wind.
“Don’t you dare answer that call—” Frankie’s warning did no good.
“Oh, hey, Aiden. Oh, good. You’re right behind us… No, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell her that right now. She’s pretty mad at you… I don’t know. We haven’t really had time to talk.”
Frankie reached behind her and snatched the phone back. “What the hell are you going to do, Kilbourn? Run us off the road? Shoot us in the back of the head?”
“Sit your ass down, buckle your seatbelt, and try to stay alive,” he growled into the phone.
“Excuse me? I don’t take orders from kidnappers.”
“He didn’t kidnap me!” Chip said.
“I didn’t kidnap him!”
“Whatever. Don’t even think about trying to keep us from the wedding. It won’t go well for you.”
“I’m not trying to keep you from the wedding, you irresponsible, exasperating idiot. I’m on your side.”
“Bullshit. You knew your brother had Chip.”
“I did,” he admitted. That temporarily shut her up. “I realized it when you read the business name on the room register last night. It’s a subsidiary of the family company.”
“Well, good news for you.”
“I promise you, I’ll deal with Elliot later. For now, let’s try to get the groom to his wedding in one piece.”
“You are the worst human being in the world, and I know a lot of people,” Frankie shouted into the phone.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He disconnected before she could have the satisfaction of hanging up on him.
“Agh!”
“So Money Bags kidnapped you?” Antonio asked as he skirted through an alley.
“Yes,” Frankie said.
“No,” Chip said. “Hey, are you old enough to drive?”
They made it to the resort in one adrenalized piece. The big black SUV maintained its course and pulled up to the hotel behind them. Frankie tossed every bill she had in her wallet at Antonio, blew him a kiss, and dragged Chip out of the car.
Aiden burst out of the passenger door of the SUV, and the three took off at a dead run through the lobby.
The concierge and front desk manager gaped after them.
“We have to get you dressed,” Frankie said, pushing Chip toward the elevator. The doors miraculously opened, but Aiden slid in behind them. The close quarters were what pushed her over the edge. She launched herself at Aiden. Her hands were so angry they didn’t know whether to slap or punch and instead flopped uselessly against his chest.
“She’s going Solange on you,” Chip observed.
“Thank you. I can see that,” Aiden said dryly, wrestling Frankie into the corner of the elevator. “Stop. Hitting.”
He held her there with the weight of his body. Frankie’s rage kicked up another notch when her body reacted as if it was happy to have six-plus feet of lying asshole pressed against it. Stupid, traitorous body.
“Hold still, Franchesca. I’m just trying to look at the cut on your head.” He gripped her chin from behind as she flailed against him. “Stop.” He gave the order softly.
