Love on Beach Avenue(4)
Bella giggled, but took up the defense. She was the peacekeeping middle child and loyal to her role. “T’s right. Once the high season hits, you won’t be able to have much fun or socialize. Go do something crazy, Avery.”
Annoyance flashed. She had no time for crazy. Her schedule was crammed, her phone buzzed nonstop, and even her sleep was disturbed by crazed brides and grooms who had midnight panic attacks and figured their wedding coordinator was the perfect person to talk to.
She knew Taylor wasn’t committed to the business long term, and Bella had her daughter to care about, but ganging up on her because she wasn’t dating or doing reckless things was not cool. Was she the only one who cared that the family business needed to come first? That everything their parents had worked for and cultivated was important? Fun could come later, when their bank accounts were fat and they had solidified themselves as the premier wedding planners for the Jersey shore—not just Cape May. Yes, they’d achieved some success, but there was always a competitor ready to take over. They needed to be consistently sharp and on their game. The only way to accomplish this was by working their asses off, and that meant missing an occasional day off.
She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it. No. She wouldn’t go on a tirade when they were tired and cranky. Best to attack it in the brightness of the morning, after a few cups of coffee. “I am,” she said brightly. “This meeting is adjourned. I’m getting my ass to bed. Personally, I think that’s enough crazy from me.”
She marched past her sisters, the first in line to leave and not even checking to see if the front door was locked behind her.
Yeah. Take that crazy.
Chapter Two
“I’m getting married!”
Carter Ross pulled his cell phone away from his ear and stared at the offending object. His usual steady heartbeat began exploding from his chest, and he wondered if all those damn chocolate croissants he loved so much had finally done their job.
He was having a heart attack.
Gripping the edge of his sleek walnut desk, he focused on his breathing, barely hearing his sister’s voice ramble on. Sweat beaded his forehead. Should he hang up and dial 911? No, he refused to kick it when he was the only family Ally had left. He’d probably just had too much coffee. He made a mental note to switch to half-decaf, shut his eyes, and slowly got his body back under control. Until the next wave of disaster hit in the form of emotion, which he despised. God knew anything messy and unpredictable had no place in his life, but here it was, crashing in with gaudy neon lights.
Anger. Pride. Helplessness. Grief.
Denial.
He pressed the phone back to his ear. “Ally, slow down,” he commanded. “What are you talking about? Who do you think you’re marrying?”
A frustrated hiss echoed over the line. “Are you serious? I’m marrying Jason, you idiot!”
His mind flashed on the image of a tall, slender man with dark hair and blue eyes that gazed at his sister with affection. Yes, Carter had met him a few times and actually liked him. The guy was the head of some big marketing firm, and he didn’t act like an asshole even though he was rich. But they hadn’t been dating long. Why get married so fast? Unless . . .
His heart rate sped up again.
“Ally-Cat, you can tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”
A laugh burst out, and he almost fell out of the chair in relief. “Oh my God, you are so dramatic. No, I’m not pregnant. We’re doing this the traditional way. Maybe you’ll do it one day, too, if you ever decide to go out on an actual date. With a human, not canine.”
He relaxed in the worn leather chair, which squeaked a bit too loudly. He mentally added fixing it to his to-do list. “Lucy would take offense. And just because I don’t talk about my love life doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”
“Is your right foot shaking?” she asked, a smile in her voice.
He looked down and immediately stilled his twitching foot. “You’re changing the subject. Jason never called me to ask for permission to marry you.”
“I’m over thirty. I think we’re past that stage, don’t you?” she asked softly.
The image of his sister’s face floated in his mind. She’d always been bigger than life, as full of temper and vitality as her shock of red hair. Her brown eyes held dreams of glory but were always so kind. She’d always been the type to pull lost mutts to his doorstep, invite lonely kids to dinner, and forgive everyone before they deserved it. He’d tried to protect her from the known scum, but it was hard getting respect as her brother, even though he’d been more of a father than sibling to her after their parents died when she was only ten years old.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to keep tabs on her anymore or scare any assholes away since she’d moved to Texas. He made a mental note to call his private detective to get a check on Jason and make sure there weren’t any past zombies hidden in his closet. “Bring me up to speed. How long have you two been dating?”
“A year.”
“Barely enough time to know if he leaves the cap off the toothpaste.”
“He does, and I don’t care. Not like you, who threatened me with sticky notes in the bathroom.”
He winced. Not one of his better moves, but Carter found that being thorough was quite helpful in the majority of life, as opposed to Ally, who claimed she did her best work within chaos. He shuddered at the thought. “Fine, but there are bigger issues to consider. Does he gamble? Flirt with other women? Leave a bad tip at restaurants? Obsess with those ridiculous phone apps or social-media networks? I don’t want you to get caught off guard, because hiring a hit man to kill him isn’t as easy as the movies make it seem.”