To Have And To Hold: The Wedding Belles Book 1 (35 page)

No, Seth’s chest hurt from something even more timeless than clogged arteries.

It was women.

Women made his chest hurt.

Specifically, a blond wedding planner who was no longer
his
wedding planner. Or his sister’s wedding planner, if one wanted to get specific about it.

Seth understood why Brooke had passed off Maya’s wedding to Alexis. He respected the choice, even,
because Brooke was a consummate professional, and the conflict of interest would have killed her.

But it didn’t make him miss her any less.

The emails he received from Alexis Morgan at the end of every business day were perfectly fine. Professional, to the point, and loaded with details of his sister’s wedding that he didn’t give a crap about. Bows. Blooms. Even the decision to use ivory candles instead of pure white, as though Seth gave a fuck.

Because yes, the wedding was still happening. Maya was still marrying a man she thought to be Neil Garrett.

Seth hadn’t told her the truth.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced such acute agony as knowing something that his baby sister needed to know but also knowing that he’d come about the information in the entirely wrong way.

Seth had two options, to tell her or not to tell her, and both seemed unbearably selfish.

If he didn’t tell her, she’d enter into a relationship with an imposter, but at least she wouldn’t blame Seth when it went sideways. To Brooke’s point, he’d be letting Maya lead her own life, her way.

If he did tell her, she’d hate his guts for not telling her about the investigation he’d launched, but at least she’d be free of the dirtbag. Because much as Seth was realizing that he shouldn’t know what he knew, he couldn’t unlearn it.

Hell.

Seth reached for one of the pill bottles. Maybe he did have the ol’ tension headache after all.

It was the end of the workday, and he’d turned
down all business dinner obligations, so at the very least he was spared the company of other people.

The downside?

Yet another night at home. Alone. In his hotel suite.

With no sister, since she was in bridezilla panic mode.

No best friend, since he and Grant were still chilly as all hell.

And no Brooke.

At this point, Seth was about five minutes from asking Jared the Sniveling Intern out for a beer.

Luckily, he was saved from such acts of desperation by a knock at the door and his sister’s familiar face.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “You got a minute?”

Seth swallowed and nodded, gesturing awkwardly for her to come in, feeling uncomfortably emotional that she’d come to see him. It seemed a long-ass time since she’d sought him out.

Maybe not even since that day when she’d first told him she was getting married.

Seth was on his feet, moving toward her and scooping her into a hug before his confused brain could even register his intentions. Seth was not a hugger, but as he pulled his sister close, tucking her head against his chest, whether she liked it or not, he realized just how desperately he needed her.

He’d always assumed it was the other way around. That she needed him. That Maya needed Seth to guide her and guard her and, hell, double-check her shit taste in men. And perhaps there was still a little bit of that at work. The woman had apparently
lost her credit card to a gambling-addicted imposter and still didn’t know he was racking up charges. There were things he would and could do to increase Maya’s independence and awareness of the world around her.

But that wasn’t what this moment was about.

It was about
him
needing
her
. Needing to learn how to love her the right way, because he did love her. Fiercely.

“Hey there,” she said with a little laugh as she patted his back. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, clearing his throat and forcing himself to release her. “Okay.”

She gave him a knowing look. “You don’t look okay. You look terrible.”

“Stop. I’m blushing,” he said sarcastically, returning to his desk chair.

“I’m serious. I don’t know what you did that made Brooke dump you, but you need to undo it. You’re miserable. She’s miserable.”

His head shot up. “You’ve seen her?”

“Well, no,” she admitted.

“Talked to her? Have you talked to her?”

She gave him a little smile. “Oh man. You are adorable right now.”

“Maya.”

His voice was close to pleading, and her smile slipped. “No, sorry, big bro. I haven’t talked to her.”

He slumped back. It was no less than he’d expected, but it picked at the not-yet-healed wound all the same.

“Much as I’m dying to interrogate you about your
love life,” Maya said as she sat across from him and crossed her legs, “I’m actually here to talk about mine.”

Seth forced his face to remain impassive. To let her lead the conversation where she wanted it to go, not where his control-freak tendencies thought it should. “Sure. What’s up?”

Maya waited until he met her eyes before she spoke again. “I’m in love with Grant.”

Seth opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was suddenly very grateful he was already sitting. Maya gave him a little smile. “I know. Trust me, I know. You don’t have to say anything, I just . . . I wanted you to be the first to know. Well, second,” she corrected.

“You told Grant this already?” he asked, finding his words.

She shook her head, her eyes clouding over. “No. I told Neil.”

Well . . .

Hell.

This was not how he’d expected things to play out.

Seth cleared his throat. “Just so I’m understanding. You told the man you’re going to marry that you’re in love with another man?”

Maya held up a hand. “Small correction. I told the man I
was
going to marry that I’m in love with another man.”

Seth felt a stab of relief so intense it nearly blinded him for a moment. “You’re not marrying Neil?”

Maya shook her head. “No. And actually, his name isn’t Neil.”

Seth
froze.

“It’s Ned Alonzo,” Maya said with a little sigh. “He’s not an entrepreneur; he’s a two-bit poker player and sports bettor, and I don’t even know what else.”

In all of his troubleshooting mental exercises in trying to figure out how to deal with this mess of a situation, this had not been one of Seth’s scenarios.

He cleared his throat. “Oh?”

She gave him a look. “Please. Don’t pretend you haven’t been awkwardly sitting on this information for weeks trying to figure out how to break it to me. I know you, Seth. I knew when I hired my own private investigator that you were likely doing the same thing.”

Well, knock him over with a feather. “Maya, I—”

She shook her head and stood. “I know you love me, Seth. I know it’s why you did that. I know that. I’m not going to say I’m not a tiny bit pissed, but honestly . . .” Her eyes filled just for a second. “I want to say thank you. For caring, even if you do so in a horribly invasive way.”

Damn. Now his eyes felt suspiciously close to spilling over with . . . something.

“I want to talk more about this, but there’s someone else I need to talk to first,” she said quietly. “And that conversation’s going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than this one.”

“Grant?” Seth asked.

Maya nodded, and for the first time since she walked into his office, she looked less than 100 percent self-assured. Maybe a tiny bit scared.

Seth opened his mouth to tell her that maybe the
conversation wouldn’t be as hard as she thought. That maybe Grant felt the same way.

But then he remembered what Brooke had said. That Maya needed to live her own life, make her own choices . . . and her own mistakes. Although he didn’t think this thing with Grant and Maya, whatever one might call it, was a mistake, still, he kept his mouth shut and decided to go a different route.

Maya shook her head in disbelief as he rounded the desk and wrapped his arms around her once more, although briefer this time.

“Two hugs in one day?” she said when she pulled back. “I don’t know what the heck Brooke Baldwin did to you, but I think I like it.”

Seth’s good mood faded slightly at the mention of Brooke, knowing that he wasn’t likely to get the second chance with her that he had apparently gotten with Maya. He and Maya were blood, with close to three decades of history behind them. Brooke had known him for all of two months and had no reason to give him a second chance. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved one.

Maya went on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“And Brooke. You love her, too?”

Seth waited for the familiar stab of panic at the thought—at the uncomfortable sense of unpredictability that came from losing one’s heart to someone spontaneously, without knowing whether they loved you back. Of the wild, terrifying abandon of caring about someone so deeply that they could turn you inside out.

He
felt none of that. There was only sureness. Rightness.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I love her.”

Maya’s smile was wide and beaming. “You know how you’re always throwing out advice at me, even when I don’t ask for it?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

She patted his chest playfully. “Well, here’s some unsolicited advice for you. If you want to win her back, go big. Throw your whole heart into it. Because I think she’s worth it.”

Seth watched his sister stroll out of his office, all sassy confidence as she went to get her man.

Just like Seth was about to get his woman.

Because unlike Maya, Seth didn’t think Brooke was worth it.

He
knew
she was.

J
UST THINK,
MAN, BY
this time tomorrow night you could be getting laid,” Grant said, picking up an ugly vase off Seth’s bookshelf as though he intended to pack it and instead going to the fridge to help himself to a beer.

Such had been the entire afternoon.

His best friend’s idea of “helping him pack” seemed to be limited to the refrigerator and pantry, and instead of anything making it into the boxes, it all went directly into Grant’s stomach.

Seth ignored his friend as he picked up an ugly metal figurine, studying it for a half second, realizing he’d never even noticed it before, and chucking it in the Goodwill pile that was considerably larger than his keep pile.

Goal number one of new life, get shit I actually like.

Actually, no, that wasn’t the first goal.

First he was going to win back Brooke.

Then he’d figure out how to hire a designer that
didn’t have a strange fascination with humanoid figures crafted from various types of metal.

“I’m just saying, you’d be a lot less grumpy if you got laid,” Grant said, pointing the beer bottle at him.

“Great. I’ll be sure to call you in the aftermath so that you can reap the benefits of my postcoital glow,” Seth replied.

Grant winced. “Dude. Don’t.”

“You don’t get to
don’t
me. You’re sleeping with my sister.”

“Hell yes, I am,” Grant said with a cocky smile. “And it’s—”

“No,” Seth said. “No fucking way. Don’t finish that sentence. For Chrissake, get me a beer. No, never mind, I need whisky.”

It had been six weeks since Maya had called off her wedding and told Grant how she felt about him. Seth wasn’t exactly sure how everything had played out, and wasn’t at all sure he wanted the details, but they were both the happiest he’d ever seen them, and that was enough for him.

He and Grant had mended things, too, in the way that men not entirely comfortable with emotion tended to do. Seth had shown up at Grant’s door with a bottle of Pappy and invited himself inside. Grant had nodded, stepped aside to let him in.

And just like that, they were back to normal.

Simple. Basic. Easy.

Fixing things with Brooke? Not nearly so easy.

Even the reappearance of Grant in Seth’s life wasn’t helping his nerves right about now. For close to two months he’d been working tirelessly on what
Etta had started calling The Project, and although he’d never felt so solid about something in his life, he couldn’t deny that the undercurrent of the unknown was starting to eat at him.

“What do you think she’ll do?” he asked, pouring a liberal amount of bourbon into his tumbler.

Grant’s expression turned considering as he studied his beer bottle. “Honestly, man? I don’t know. If I’ve learned anything in the past couple months, it’s that I’m not nearly as good at reading women as I thought I was. And if that’s true of me, the certified chick whisperer, then there’s really no hope for you, my friend.”

“Helpful.” Seth lifted his glass. “Thanks.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, man, stop by the wedding shop with pinot grigio and marshmallows and see if she’s been doodling your name in that planner she always carries around with her?”

“I don’t know why she uses the paper planner,” Seth said, mostly to himself. “It’d be far more efficient to use an iPad or an electronic alternative.”

Grant barked out a laugh before letting his head fall forward in defeat. “Do me a favor and keep that bit to yourself tomorrow, ’kay? Say the
good
stuff.”