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  “She’ll probably be fine sleeping there for ten minutes on her own,” I said, standing and sidling with a goofy smirk on my face toward my husband. “She needs her rest, after all.”

  “Ten minutes?” Anthony’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Honey, I’ve got more than ten minutes planned for you and me.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing,” he said, pulling me to his chest. “I love you, and you love me, and I think we deserve a little alone time, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but we’re hardly alone—”

  Anthony nodded toward the bathroom which, to my great surprise, was pretty decent looking. It boasted a huge jacuzzi tub next to a shower, sparkling clean, with towels folded into all sorts of exotic shapes and lined up along the edges.

  Anthony reached for a swan towel and began to unfold it.

  “Don’t do that,” I said, grabbing it from him. “Use one of the unfolded ones. I’m taking this one home.”

  “Lacey Luzzi,” Anthony said with a shake of his head. “I thought I was the one who broke the law.”

  “Yeah, well, you corrupted me,” I said, tucking the swan next to the sink before slithering out of my shirt. “Now why don’t you corrupt me all over again? And make it fast, buddy. She might wake up at any minute.”

  Anthony laughed and stepped closer. “No promises, sweetheart.”

  But as Anthony helped me out of my pants, I was quite thrilled about the idea of some alone time. His dark hair fell loosely over his forehead, framing a rugged jawline and naturally tanned skin. His arms curled around me, pulling me against his long, hard body—a body that had unfairly not gained an ounce of baby weight—and planted soft, desperate kisses against my lips.

  “Oh, look!” I said as Anthony tugged me toward the jacuzzi. “They have bath salts and bubbles.”

  “You want to use them?”

  “No,” I said, hoarding them to my chest. “I want to take them home. And the shampoos—we have to collect those, too. Especially the lotions and the conditioners.”

  “When did you turn into a kleptomaniac?”

  “I’m not a klepto,” I said. “I’m just a bargain shopper. Moms are bargain shoppers, you know, and it doesn’t get better than free.”

  “Lacey, have you seen our bank account? We aren’t hurting for money.”

  “You never know,” I said. “And anyway, it’s about the principle.”

  “Speaking of principles,” Anthony said, tugging me with a bright grin toward the jacuzzi as he cranked on the water. “I’m about to lose mine. Will you join me?”

  “Principles?” I said, tossing the bath salts over my shoulder. “Who said anything about principles?”

  “Good.” He sat on the edge of the tub and pulled me onto his lap, letting me wriggle in until we were as close as physically possible. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  His hands had just gotten busy dancing around the edge of my undies when the moment was ruined all over again. This time, by no fault of my own. This time, the fault belonged to the madman trying to break our door down.

  “What in the world?” I gasped, coming up for air after a particularly steamy kiss. “Who’s that?”

  I stumbled to grab a bathrobe looped over a hanger in the closet and wrapped it over my body. Thumps and bumps followed me from the bathroom as the usually smooth and suave Anthony bumbled around in a state of undress.

  “Lacey, wait for me—” he said, but it was too late.

  I’d yanked the door open and stuck my head into the hall. “Hello?” I called, but there was no answer. “Hello?!”

  The hallway in front of our room was empty. Completely devoid of any life, save for the dying cactus someone had forgotten about near the elevator.

  By the time I’d registered the emptiness in the hallway, Anthony had stumbled out of the bathroom, and the feel of his naked warmth pressed against my back as he peeked out over my shoulder.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. “Where’d they go? They were just knocking...”

  “Welp,” I said, slamming the door. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone! Where were we?”

  Anthony’s gaze darkened as he caught my stare lingering on his body, down past the towel he’d draped around his waist. The towel hit the floor, and we were on each other again before Anthony could flick the deadbolt shut.

  Just as we toppled into the bathroom, however, the pounding resumed.

  “I said, open the door!” Pound—pound—thud. “This is the bridezilla!”

  I pulled back from Anthony with a quizzical expression on my face. “But how...”

  As Anthony’s face drained of color, I realized exactly what had happened. Anthony’s hand came up, pinched his forehead in what looked like horrible agony. “Don’t tell me...”

  “We have adjoining rooms,” I said, wincing, “with the bride and groom.”

  “I’m just going to lie here,” Anthony said, easing onto the edge of the jacuzzi. “And die a slow, sweet death. Don’t bother to feed me—it’ll only slow the process.”

  “Oh, don’t be dramatic,” I said, plucking the robe up and re-wrapping it around me. “It won’t be that bad.”

  “Are you guys making out?” Meg asked in between pounds against the door. “Because I have a very important question to ask you. Both of you. Open up, please.”

  I jogged over to the door, pulling it open mid-thump from Meg’s knuckles. “Do you mind?” I hissed. “The baby’s sleeping.”

  “Aw, that’s cute,” Meg said, reaching out to grasp me by the robe and yanking me through to the other side. It was like she’d sucked me into a portal away from the cozy comfort of my little family and into the chaos that was the World of Meg. “Isn’t this great? It’s like one big sleepover.”

  “Are you positive you want your wedding week to feel like a sleepover?”

  “Oh, sure,” Meg said. “Me and Clay have the rest of our lives to be alone together. The resort was gonna upgrade us to the Presidential Suite, but I was all like—no way, buddy, put me next to my friends. Right next to them.”

  “Yep,” I said with a half-hearted shrug. “And here we are. Right next to each other. Sharing a wall on your wedding night.”

  “And honeymoon.” She pointed a finger at me and winked. “We’ve got this whole week to be together, chickadee.”

  “Lovely,” I said, speaking louder so that Meg couldn’t hear Anthony in the other room as he dialed in a noise complaint for the room next door.

  I then heard him mention something about a Presidential Suite and decided it’d be better if I kept Meg and Anthony as far apart as possible during this trip.

  “So anyway,” I said, calling loudly enough to signal Anthony that I’d be right back, “What was this important question you had to ask me?”

  Meg reached a hand out as I tried to shut the door to my room. “Not so fast, chickadee. Is that Anthony I see in there? Is he almost naked? You know, that’s on my bucket list of World Wonders to see.”

  “Yeah, well,” I said, easing her hand off the doorknob. “He’s a little cranky. Probably best if we just sort of...let him cool off.”

  “His hotness only gets better with age, if you ask me,” Meg said. “But then again, so does Clay’s. Guess we’re both lucky gal’s, huh?”

  I frowned at her assessments of my husband and cousin, then cinched the robe tighter around my body. “About this question you had?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Meg said. “On the second cake—should I get chocolate on top or on the bottom?”

  I bit my lip. “That was your life-threatening question?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Meg said. “I have to decide by tomorrow. So, you know, sleep on it.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Well, I think I hear Bella crying, so I’m going to feed her, but I’ll see you for dinner tonight?”

  “Sure thing,” Meg said. “And if you see Clay, send him over here. I don’t know where he’s gone. Runaway groom, if you know what I’m sa
yin’.”

  “Uh, oh,” I said. “Well, I will keep an eye out.”

  With a salute, I slunk back into my room unable to make eye contact with Anthony. I could feel the rays of frustration radiating from his body. Things didn’t improve when a knock came from the other door—the real door. I scurried to answer it and found the runaway groom right before my eyes.

  “Clay?” I sized up my cousin and took in his bedraggled appearance. On a good day, he looked like the perfect candidate for a big squishy hug. Today, his face looked drawn and exhausted—as if he’d rapidly deteriorated after we exited the plane. “Don’t tell me you’re avoiding Meg.”

  “What?” Clay’s eyes darted around. “Is she here? Did you tell her you saw me? What did she say?”

  I reached for the front of his shirt and yanked him into the room, closing the door behind him. “What are you thinking? I know sometimes Meg can be overwhelming, but she really, really loves you. Your whole family is here to watch you get married.”

  “I know,” Clay said, wiping an arm across his clammy, perspiring brow. “That’s why this is such a tragedy.”

  “I’m walking you down that aisle if I have to handcuff myself to you,” I said. “End of story.”

  “What?” Clay gaped at me. “Oh, Lacey. You think this is cold feet?”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem like warm feet to me.”

  “You haven’t let him talk,” Anthony called. “Why don’t you hear him out?”

  “Huh,” I said, leaning a hip against the wall. “I suppose that’s a clever idea, but you’ll need to keep it down. The baby is sleeping.”

  Clay glanced over my shoulder and gave a quick nod. “I am avoiding Meg, but not because of the reasons you think. I want to marry her more than anything.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” I tilted my head in a gesture toward the shared door. “She’s right there, and she wants to marry you, too.”

  “They lost my luggage.”

  “They didn’t lose Meg’s backpack with the parachutes by chance, too, did they?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Dang,” I said. “Anyway, what was so important about that luggage?”

  Clay hesitated. “My wedding gift to my bride was in that suitcase.”

  “Oh, Clay,” I said, exhaling a sigh of relief. “That’s no problem at all. I’m sure it’ll get here in just a day or two. Your wedding isn’t for a few days, and even if it’s a little late I’m sure Meg will understand! It’s the thought that counts. Luggage gets lost all the time.”

  Clay’s lips tightened. “Yeah, except...”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Except what?”

  “It wasn’t so much lost as it was confiscated,” Clay said. “Sort of.”

  “Did you pack explosives?” I asked, then gave a sigh. “What did I tell you about dangerous gifts? I thought we went over this with Bella’s mobile.”

  “We did, but this was for Meg, and I swear I wasn’t going to bring it near the baby,” Clay said, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the next. “It’s totally safe. Probably safe. I was going to test the safety someday soon.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Buy Meg a nice set of earrings or something. She doesn’t want anything that explodes.”

  “You don’t know her as well as I do,” Clay said. “She would love this. And she needs it for her special day.”

  “You make me incredibly nervous,” I said. “And also confused. What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Well, I think I can recreate it,” Clay said. “In fact, I’m sure I can. I just need a few hard-to-find ingredients, and I thought maybe since you’re so good at finding things, you could help me out.”

  “But—”

  “Please!”

  Clay blinked, and I swore he was almost in tears. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen my cousin cry. While blatantly ignoring Anthony, I heaved a huge breath of frustrated air. “What’s on this list of things you need?”

  “You are the best,” Clay said, and dug in his pocket for a pre-made list. “I knew you’d pull through.”

  I raised my eyebrows at some of the contents on the list. “I am making no promises. But you are.”

  “I am?”

  “It’s not going to hurt anyone?” I pressed. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Clay said. “I swear. I’ll owe you.”

  “We’ll see what I can do,” I said. “Now go convince your bride you’re not having cold feet.”

  Clay was out of the room before I could blink. Leaving me alone with my husband who was distinctly less happy than he’d been five minutes ago. In all areas.

  “I know you’re not happy with me...”

  “Let me see the list.” Anthony extended a hand.

  I offered him the list, taking Clay’s lead and moving uncomfortably from one foot to the next. “Well?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said simply, but not without a huge sigh.

  “Have I told you I love you?” I asked. “And that you’re the very, very best?”

  “You’ve mentioned it,” Anthony said, “but I wouldn’t mind a demonstration.”

  “I’m going to take the baby over to Nora’s,” I said. “Right now. Cutting the cord. An hour of uninterrupted mommy and daddy time. How’s that?”

  “Will you let me do that one thing you like—”

  “Whatever you want!” I hissed, glaring at him before pointing to the baby. “Cripes. Give me five minutes. Why don’t you go down and refill the ice?”

  “You’re going to have your first glass of champagne in over a year?” Anthony grinned big time. “I’ll be right back, my bride.”

  Jumping to his feet with renewed determination, he swooped me into a kiss and let me go, practically leaping from the room to fill the ice bucket. I took my time gathering baby Bella into my arms, along with everything she might possibly need to spend an hour across the hall (more or less three suitcases of supplies) and shuffled awkwardly out of the room.

  I locked the door and managed to balance the suitcases while retrieving my phone from the deep recesses of the diaper bag. I texted Nora for her room number. She responded quickly, and it turned out she was one floor above us and just down the hall. I would happily report to Anthony that we were not in danger of sharing a hotel wall with my very-in-love grandparents.

  “Look at me, Bella,” Nora instructed as I secured her into her grandmother’s loving and very grabby arms. “Here, sweetie.”

  For some reason, Bella was intent on staring at Carlos, sitting quietly in the corner. Nora cast her husband a dirty glance.

  “What’s so interesting about Carlos?” Nora asked. “Can you give me a smile? Lacey—get out of here. It’s not alone time with my grandbaby if you’re staring over my shoulder.”

  It took twenty minutes, a scroll’s worth of instructions, and a physical kick out the door, before I started back down the hall. Nora and Carlos promised they’d stay put in the room for the next hour. Flicking my hair over my shoulder, I made my way to the elevator and tapped my foot impatiently against the floor while I waited for a family of seven to unload their suitcases.

  It was difficult to say if I was anxious to get back to Anthony or to Bella. Maybe both, I thought, as the elevator dinged open on our floor. I turned my feet toward our room, but I’d barely taken one step before I heard it. A bang, a boom, and a gigantic whomp. The door to our hotel room flew off and crumpled in flames as a wave of heat flooded the hallway.

  I turned away from the blast, feeling the warmth wash over me despite the localized burn in the hotel room. My ears rang with the after effects of the blast, and my balance felt wobbly, as if I was trying to balance on a suspension bridge. Stumbling, I shouted for Anthony and simultaneously prayed that I’d mistaken our room number, and really, a neighboring room had blown up.

  Until I realized that the neighboring room was Meg’s, and then I ran even faster. There was no good ending to this. Either m
y husband or my best friend had been in that blast. My skin felt clammy and my brain felt compressed and squeezed out of shape. I itched with nerves as I sprinted the last few feet and reached the door to my hotel room.

  Except, the door was across the hall.

  In front of me blazed a raging fire that had ripped through the door. It reached greedily for me with ugly, hot fingers. Demanding, screeching, taking.

  I didn’t realize it was me demanding and screeching until firm arms wrapped around me and pulled me back, and a familiar scent hit hard and fast. “Anthony?”

  “Darling, I’m fine,” he said, holding my limp body upright on a pair of wobbly feet. “Are you? Where’s Bella?”

  I saw the fear in his eyes, the utter terror, and I gasped. Pointed. “Upstairs,” I said. “With Nora. And Meg?”

  “I don’t know,” Anthony said. “I actively try to not know where Meg is.”

  “Was she in the room?” I asked dumbly, not processing. “Where were you?”

  “You sent me to get ice,” Anthony said, and then gave a sheepish shrug. “And I might have stopped downstairs to pick up an extra bottle of champagne.”

  We were interrupted in our reunion by the arrival of a firefighter or policeman or security guard—someone in a uniform who spoke with authority and demanded we step back.

  “But my friend might be in there,” I said. “That’s my room! What happened?!”

  “Lacey, it’s done. Whatever’s in there is...” Anthony hesitated.

  “Toast,” the security guard finished blandly. “That room is toast.”

  Chapter 2

  After pounding on the room next door and getting no answer, I turned a frenzied gaze to Anthony. “Meg was just in there. We just saw her.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Anthony said. “I wasn’t dressed.”

  “Can you scrounge up a key to her room? I have to see if she’s in there.”