Page 3 of Their Sweetest Obsession

My body ached just imagining it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Keats,” Opal, the wedding planner we’d hired to make this effortless for Marina, apologized. “But I’ve emailed her multiple times a day, as well as attempted to call and text Miss Weston. She hasn’t responded to any of my messages.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled deeply, searching for the patience I needed but was in short supply. As the wedding day drew closer, my control shredded more and more. I just wanted her as our wife, damn it!

“I’ll speak to her,” I said with a grunt, ending the call before I took my frustration out on the woman.

“Mr. Keats.” My assistant tapped her nails on the top of the documents she was waiting for me to sign.

Continuing to ignore her, I texted Marina.

Me: Call me as soon as you get this message, princess.

I hit send and immediately saw it was delivered.

“Mr. Keats,” my assistant murmured beside me.

I held up my hand to quiet her, not in the right headspace to even hear her voice. All I wanted was to find out why Marina hadn’t picked a dress for our wedding. Once she did that, then I would feel calmer. Until then, I didn’t have the patience to deal with anyone else.

While I stared at the screen in anticipation of her reply—or better yet, call so I could hear her voice—the READ receipt popped up under my message. But long moments passed without a response. Not even the three little dots to let me know she was typing.

“Wilder!”

My bellow caused the woman still standing beside my desk to jump. Pushing back my chair, I jerked to my feet, already stomping toward the door when he jogged in. His blond brows lifted when he saw my face. We looked nothing alike because we weren’t related by blood, but I would lay down my life for this man.

William Keats had always known he was sterile. When he went looking for his first wife, his only criteria had been that she already had a kid. Preferably a son he could adopt to one day take over his business empire. My greedy mother had hit the jackpot when she met William. He wanted a son. She wanted his money. Win-win.

When they divorced, he paid out another lump sum to retain custody of me. I hadn’t seen her since.

Wife number two had also had kids, but for whatever reason, William decided he didn’t want to adopt them. That marriage had lasted less than six months. Three weeks later, Wilder’s mother was in the picture.

There had been an instant connection between Wilder and me. Five minutes in each other’s presence and I’d known he would be my best friend for life. William signed the adoption papers for Wilder the same day he married Wilder’s mother. But two years later, she’d passed after a rough battle with cancer.

For years afterward, it had been just the two of us. Mostly Wilder causing trouble and me bailing him out. But then William met Stephanie, and our lives changed forever the moment we set eyes on Marina. I knew when I saw her that she was the one meant for us.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Wilder demanded, his blue eyes running over me like he expected me to have lost a limb. Of the two of us, he was the openly emotional one. Loved fiercely. Had the quickest-burning temper. But I was hanging by a thread. When Marina was our wife, I’d calm down.

I fucking hoped.

Having my best friend in front of me quieted my racing mind somewhat. “When’s the last time you spoke to Marina?” I demanded.

“Not for a few days. She’s been dealing with finals, and I didn’t want to distract her.” His eyes widened, his chest expanding with a sharp inhale. “Why? Is she okay? What’s going on?”

“The wedding planner can’t get in touch with her,” I gritted out.

“Fuck, okay.” He pulled out his phone, already texting her. “Don’t worry. Both her day and night shift security have assured me everything has been fine. Mack gave me a report not half an hour ago. She went to her Econ final and then straight back to her apartment with her roommate.”

I combed my fingers through my short, dark hair. “Is she responding?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Reeve, man, I just hit send.”

“Has she read it?” I persisted. My palms were sweaty. Something about Marina not communicating with the wedding planner felt off. Now, she wasn’t answering our messages.

Was she second-guessing marrying us? Did she have doubts about the three of us being together? What if she wanted to leave us?

“Fuck it.” I couldn’t stand not knowing. If she was having misgivings, we would reassure her. “We’re going up to see her.”

Walking back to my desk to grab my things, I noticed my assistant still standing beside my chair. “Whatever you need me to sign, it can wait,” I snapped at her.

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