Samantha’s stomach dropped as they rolled into the parking lot of the Hobart Garden Hotel. This was it, what the whole trip had been leading up to, but now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for it. She looked over at Tristan, thankful they’d be so busy during the wedding that she wouldn’t have time to miss him—but she feared that wasn’t true, and squeezed his hand as they came closer toward the valet stand.
Renee had explained to Samantha how much money was being spent on the wedding, but there was nothing that could have prepared her for this. The hotel was a hundred stories high, like a wall of windows looking over the big city. Pristine, beautiful, and made her instantly self-conscious about the way she was dressed. She tugged at the tattered edge of her denim shorts and waited in the car for the valet to retrieve her from her seat.
“Madame,” he said respectfully, offering his arm for her to hold onto.
She pulled down the hem of her tank top, then retrieved her backpack from the back seat before accepting his help. “Thank you,” she said, then stepped up to the curb, not knowing what else to do.
The valet turned to Tristan, offering a red ticket in exchange for his keys. “Should I send your bags ahead, sir?” the man asked, but Tristan only shook his head, set his glasses on the bridge his nose, and threw his backpack high on his shoulder.
“That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
Samantha busied herself braiding her hair as she followed Tristan to the elevator. “Do you know where we’re supposed to go?” she asked, looking around to the masses of people, all dressed in business suits and dresses.
He shrugged and smiled down at her. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” He reached for her hand, but she immediately retreated.
“Wild Stallion, remember?”
He cracked a smile, but ignored her warning and stepped toward her anyway. “You can call me that whenever you want to, baby.” He then tugged on one of her braids and pressed the call button for the elevator.
They stepped out to the lobby a short time later, where a bus boy with a hopper full of matching luggage passed in a hurry. Samantha looked around for the reception desk, wondering if that was where they should try first. “Maybe we can call Renee—”
But before she could finish her thought, a squeal came from the other side of the elevators and traveled all the way down the hall. Not two seconds later, a flurry of light brown hair and skinny legs launched themselves to the top of Tristan’s back.
“It’s about time!” Renee shouted.
Samantha covered her mouth, watching Tristan almost tumble forward before catching his balance and reaching up over his head to flip his sister over his shoulders. She was in a headlock before she could even blink.
“Woah, woah, woah!” protested a very tall, very lean man who came to stand beside them. “That’s my future bride you have there.”
Samantha instantly grinned. She’d seen pictures of the handsome ballet dancer, but there were people who were more attractive in person, and Renee’s fiancée was one of them. He had a sort of James Dean quality about him. Inky dark hair that was both perfectly combed but messy at the same time, and his eyelashes were so thick it almost looked like a chore to hold his eyes open.
Renee glanced up, head twisted around Tristan’s death grip, and giggled. “Phin, you remember my brother Tristan.”
Tristan let go of Renee, almost dropping her, then draped his arm over her shoulder, anchoring her arms at her waist. “Sisters,” he said, holding a hand out to shake. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”
Phin only laughed, and shook Tristan’s hand. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, then he turned toward Samantha and took the backpack from her shoulder. “And you must be Samantha. Renee has been talking about you for months.”
Samantha glanced over at her friend, a lump forming in her throat as she held out a hand to Phin—but he immediately yanked her forward and into a two-armed hug. “It’s good to meet you, finally.”
Emotion hit her like a sack of onions—without warning, tears stung her eyes and she blinked them quickly way. After all this time, after all these months, she was finally meeting the man her best friend would marry. No, she wasn’t just meeting him, she was pressed into his chest barely able to breathe. Renee was as close as she had to as a sister, and until this moment Samantha wasn’t sure she liked Phin. He was a strange man who had swept in like Batman, capturing her best friend—with no plans to ever let her go.
But she did like him.